Black Beauty, Anna Sewell [good books to read for women txt] 📗

Black Beauty

By Anna Sewell.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint Part I I: My Early Home II: The Hunt III: My Breaking In IV: Birtwick Park V: A Fair Start VI: Liberty VII: Ginger VIII: Ginger’s Story Continued IX: Merrylegs X: A Talk in the Orchard XI: Plain Speaking XII: A Stormy Day XIII: The Devil’s Trade Mark XIV: James Howard XV: The Old Hostler XVI: The Fire XVII: John Manly’s Talk XVIII: Going for the Doctor XIX: Only Ignorance XX: Joe Green XXI: The Parting Part II XXII: Earlshall XXIII: A Strike for Liberty XXIV: The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse XXV: Reuben Smith XXVI: How It Ended XXVII: Ruined and Going Downhill XXVIII: A Job Horse and His Drivers XXIX: Cockneys XXX: A Thief XXXI: A Humbug Part III XXXII: A Horse Fair XXXIII: A London Cab Horse XXXIV: An Old War Horse XXXV: Jerry Barker XXXVI: The Sunday Cab XXXVII: The Golden Rule XXXVIII: Dolly and a Real Gentleman XXXIX: Seedy Sam XL: Poor Ginger XLI: The Butcher XLII: The Election XLIII: A Friend in Need XLIV: Old Captain and His Successor XLV: Jerry’s New Year Part IV XLVI: Jakes and the Lady XLVII: Hard Times XLVIII: Farmer Thoroughgood and His Grandson Willie XLIX: My Last Home Endnotes Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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Part I I My Early Home

The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master’s house, which stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank.

While I was young I lived upon my mother’s milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold we had a nice warm shed near the grove.

As soon as I was old enough to eat grass my mother used to go out to work in the daytime, and come back in the evening.

There were six young colts in the meadow besides me; they were older than I was; some were nearly as large as grownup horses. I used to run with them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all together round and round the field, as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had rather rough play, for they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop.

One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then she said:

“I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. The colts who live here are very good colts, but they are carthorse colts, and of course they have not learned manners. You have been well-bred and wellborn; your father has a great name in these parts, and your grandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races; your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do your work with a good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play.”

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice; I knew she was a wise old horse, and our master thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, but he often called her Pet.

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words; he spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We were all fond of him, and my mother loved him very much. When she saw him at the gate she would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He would pat and stroke her and say, “Well, old Pet, and how is your little Darkie?” I was a dull black, so he called me Darkie; then he would give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought a carrot for my mother. All the horses would come to him, but I think we were his favorites. My mother always took him to the town on a market