pony would be, and wrote out a long list of names suitable for a
Shetland. I wished that it might be black, and my sister wished for a
cream colour; but I believe that no such thing exists as a
cream-coloured Shetland. And after all our expectation, Papa came home
so late, that we did not see him that night.
We besieged his door next morning, shouting, "Did you find a pony? Have
you bought the pony?" Yes, a pony had come, but we were not to look at
him until Papa came down; and after breakfast, Papa sent for it to the
dining-room window. Oh! what a nice little roly-poly of rough hair it
was. It was very small, and its funny little face peeped out from the
shaggy bunch of hair over its eyes, in such a sly way. Its mane was a
complete bush, and its tail just swept along the ground. And all over
its body the coat was so thick and soft, and so long, that the legs
looked quite short and dumpy. Altogether, it was the most darling
little fellow any one could imagine; its colour was dark-brown, and its
mane and tail nearly black.
Papa promised to get a nice saddle and bridle for it, as we declared
that Neddy's old pad was so shabby, that it would be a shame to put it
on this little beauty. But, meantime, we were well satisfied to use it,
and commenced our rides forthwith; scarcely a day passed without our
making a long excursion. Sometimes Mamma walked with us, and sometimes
only nurse; we used to trot along the road for some distance, and then
canter back again to Mamma, so that we had a long ride, whilst she only
took a moderate walk; and we soon had explored every lane and bye-road
near our new home.
After much debate about the pony's name, we had fixed on two or three,
and finding that we could not agree on the important subject, we wrote
out the names on slips of paper, and drew lots. "Bluebeard" was the
name that we drew the oftenest, so that was decided; and as he really
had a very long beard, we thought it very appropriate.
Although Bluebeard was a decided beauty, it must be confessed that he
had a great number of tricks, and was not the best-behaved pony in the
world. When we were out riding, if we met any carts on the road, or in
passing through the streets, Mamma or nurse used to lead him by the
bridle; this _we_ used to consider a great affront to our horsemanship,
and Bluebeard, doubtless, thought it an affront to himself, for he
could not bear to be led; he shook his head, and tried to get the
bridle out of their hand, and failing to do so, he revenged himself by
biting and tearing Mamma's shawl or dress; and our poor nurse had
scarcely a gown left that was not in rents and holes from Bluebeard's
teeth; she said it took her half her time to mend her clothes, for she
never went out with us and returned with her clothes whole. This amused
us very much; but Mamma thought she should have liked Bluebeard better
if he had been less playful.
With good living, and the care that was lavished on him in our stable,
he soon became fatter, and very frisky, so full of wild spirits and
play, that we could not quite manage him. So Mamma had a very small
basket-work carriage made, just to fit Bluebeard; it was painted
dark-blue, and was very pretty; it had two seats, so just carried us,
and Mamma and nurse.
Now we drove out one day, and rode the next; the carriage was so low,
that we could jump in and out as Bluebeard trotted along; and we liked
to run, holding on by the back, to see whether we could run as fast as
Bluebeard at his fastest trot; and when we jumped out, he used to turn
his head round and look for us, and sometimes made a full stop till we
got in again. Mamma thought that the heavier work of drawing the
carriage with four people in it, would prevent Bluebeard from becoming
too frisky and unmanageable, as, certainly, it was far greater labour
for him than a quiet trot with only myself or sister on his back; but I
believe that the more work he had, the more corn he ate, for he
scampered along with the carriage as if it were nothing at all, and
grew more and more skittish. It was very amusing to watch for donkeys
as we drove along the roads, for he could not bear to meet one; if he
spied the long ears at a little distance, he used to fling up his head,
stand still for an instant, and then turn sharply round, and rush away
in the opposite direction to the offending object; this he did whether
we were riding or in the carriage. It signified but little when we
rode; for all that happened was our tumbling off, when he twitched
himself round; and as he met Mamma and nurse a little way back on the
road, he was always stopped.
But in the carriage it was a very awkward trick, and we should often
have been upset, had not the front wheels turned completely under the
body of the carriage, so Bluebeard could twist round, and put his head
quite inside without upsetting us.
Once or twice, when going up a hill, a donkey suddenly put up his head
from behind the hedge. Round flew Bluebeard with such a jerk, as nearly
to throw us out of the carriage, and having whisked us round, he tore
down the hill at a furious rate. All that could be done on such
occasions, was for one of us to jump out and hold his head before he
had time to turn round; and, therefore, we always kept a sharp look out
for donkeys on the road. This dread of Bluebeard's was the more
strange, as he was extremely friendly with a poor half-starved donkey
that was sometimes put into the same field with him. He used to rub his
head against it, talk to it, (that is, hold their noses near together),
and seemed quite to like its company. But any other donkey inspired him
with downright terror. Another bad trick when in the carriage, was
kicking, which he often did, sometimes throwing his heels so high that
he got them over the shaft, and then we had the fun of unharnessing him
completely, in order to put him in again.
It sometimes took a very long time to catch him, though the field was
very small; he would come close to the groom, and when he put out his
hand to catch him, he would give his head a toss and gallop off round
the field; now and then, when weary of his fruitless attempts at
catching him, the groom would set the field-gate wide open, and
Bluebeard would dart through it, along the lane, and up the hill to our
house. But it was rather a risk doing so, as it was quite a chance
whether he would go home, or in any other direction.
When he was fairly in the stable, and cleaning and harnessing had
commenced, he by no means ceased from his playful tricks: he would roll
in the straw with his legs kicking up; then he would bounce about in
all directions, to prevent the bridle from being put on; and shake his
head till all his shaggy mane fell over his eyes.
All this was meant for play and fun; but the groom often was
reprimanded for unpunctuality, in not bringing the carriage to the door
for half-an-hour or more after the time when it was ordered. Certainly,
if Bluebeard would not be caught, and then would not be harnessed, it
was not the groom's fault. However, he began to be very sharp and cross
with the pony; and once pulling him roughly up from sprawling on his
back, instead of standing still to be combed, Bluebeard dashed his head
at him and gave him a bad bite on the chest.
When Mamma came out to put a plaister on the bite, she was very angry,
and said that if Bluebeard bit in his play, she could not allow us to
keep him; and she desired that he should not have half so much corn.
But I do believe the groom paid no attention to this order, and gave
him just as much as before; for the wicked little pony never became one
bit quieter, and we often had to beg hard that sentence of dismissal
should not be pronounced.
Whenever Papa had time to take us riding with him, or could spare his
horse for the groom, we had a nice ride, Bluebeard having a long rein
which Papa or the groom held, we found that he went a great deal better
than when Mamma walked with us; indeed, he had then no time to play
tricks, for it was as much as he could do to keep up with the great
horse, whose walk matched with our gentle trotting; his trot to our
cantering; and when the horse cantered, Bluebeard was put to his full
speed.
We enjoyed these rides immensely; but, unluckily, they were few and far
between, as the horse could be spared very seldom; therefore, we still
continued our plan of Mamma walking, and we riding by turns; and it was
a great excitement to us, watching for Bluebeard's tricks, for we were
much afraid of his being sent away as too tiresome; and we tried in all
ways to prevent and to conceal his delinquencies.
I very frequently went over his head, for he liked to go precisely the
way he chose; and if we came to a turning in the road, and I pulled the
bridle in one direction, Bluebeard was certain to insist on going the
other. Then he tugged, and I tugged; but his neck was so strong, and
his mouth so hard, that I seldom could succeed in making him go my way;
and unless some one came to my assistance, the dispute generally ended
by Bluebeard putting his head between his legs, and pitching me over
his head.
My sister suggested that the best way to manage him would be always to
urge him to go the way we did not wish, and he, being certain to differ
from us, would take, as his own choice, the road that we really
intended.
This was the same plan as that suggested for refractory pigs, who will
never go forwards; viz., to pull them backwards, when they will at once
make a bolt in the desired direction.
But I objected, that it was a shabby way of proceeding to manage him by
deceit, and I preferred being flung over his head in open contest; and
the plan was given up as too cowardly; and as my rolls were generally
in the soft sandy lanes or on the grass by the road side, I never was
in the least hurt.
My sister, too, had several tumbles which made us laugh very much.
We came once to a place where three lanes met, and Mamma called out to
my sister, who was riding some way in front, to turn to the right; so
she pulled the rein, and, as a matter of course, Bluebeard shook his
mane, tossed his head about, and intimated that he intended to turn
down the opposite lane to the left. Then my sister pulled and pulled,
whipping Bluebeard at the same time; but his coat was so immensely
thick, that he really did not feel a switch the least in the world,
especially from a little arm like my sister's. So he did not stir, but
kept twisting his head along the left-hand lane.
"He will kick in a minute," I said; and Mamma ran quickly to take hold
of his bridle.
When naughty little Bluebeard felt her touch the rein, he made a bolt
down the lane so suddenly, that he dragged Mamma down on the ground,
and flinging up his heels at the same time, sent my sister flying, and
she came down upon Mamma; so there they were rolling over each other in
the dusty lane.
Bluebeard scampered a short way down the lane and then came back to us,
whisking his tail, as if to say, "You might as well have come my way at
once, without causing all this fuss."
And whilst we were employed in shaking the dust off Mamma's and
sister's clothes, he stood looking at us in a triumphant kind of
manner.
But after all, he did not have his own way; for when my sister was
mounted again, Mamma took the bridle and led him down the lane to the
right and all the way home; and he was not in favour with Mamma for
some time after.
When the winter came on, his coat grew so thick and heavy, and his mane
and tail so bushy and long, that he really looked like a great bundle
of hair rolling along the road; for his legs scarcely showed as high as
his knee. As for his eyes, it was a mystery how he saw at all; for they
were not visible, except when we pulled back the hair to look at them:
there never was such a curious rolypoly-looking little creature.
When the cold of the winter was passing away, it was agreed that
Bluebeard had better be clipped, his coat being really much too heavy;
no sheep's fleece could have weighed more.
So we had the pleasure of seeing the little fellow carefully shorn of
his thick dress; his long bushy tail was left at our particular
request, and also plenty of mane; we liked that, because we found it a
great help to clutch a handful of mane, when he tried to kick us off;
but his eyes were left free to look out, and very saucy they looked.
We were astonished to find how small he looked, and how thin and
elegant his stumpy little legs appeared, we thought they scarcely
seemed strong enough to bear our weight; and in the carriage he would
appear a perfect shrimp.
Then his colour was entirely altered. Instead of dark brown, he was now
a pale sort of grey; indeed, we could scarcely believe that the same
pony was before us.
He did not look so droll and round, but much prettier; and we felt
quite proud of him the next time we rode out with Papa.
When he was next put into the pony-carriage, he almost appeared too
small for it; and one bad effect of clipping him was, that he evidently
felt so light and unshackled, that he could not restrain his wish to
prance and jump; he now perpetually was kicking his legs over the
shafts; and so, two or three times during a drive, we unharnessed him
before we could replace him where he ought to be--between the shafts;
instead of having his fore legs inside, and his hind legs outside.
Mamma said that this was dangerous, and that she feared Bluebeard might
either break his own legs by this trick, or would upset the carriage
and break ours. And we began to fear that Bluebeard would some day
bring on his own dismissal.
One day, Mamma rode Bluebeard herself; and in spite of the greater
weight, which he must have found very different from that of such small
children as my sister and myself, Bluebeard kicked so much, and behaved
altogether in such an improper manner, that Mamma declared he was no
longer a safe pony for such young children, and said she should expect
to see us brought home with fractured skulls or broken limbs, if we
were allowed to ride him.
All our beggings and prayings had no effect. Bluebeard was sold to a
man in the neighbouring town.
When this man said that he wanted the pony for a little boy to ride,
Mamma said that he was too ill-broken and too unmanageable for any
child, and that she did not wish to sell him for that purpose.
But he said that he intended to tie the boy tightly on to the saddle,
and should make a groom walk with him with a long rein; and then should
have no fear about the boy's safety. And he bought him, notwithstanding
Mamma's warning.
We were so sorry to see the poor little fellow led away; our only
consolation was, that in a year or two we should become too big for
Bluebeard; and then, at any rate, we must have parted with him.
Now and then we saw the little boy riding him; and the groom that was
with him showed us that he was strapped on to the saddle by a strap
across each thigh, and also a strap below each knee; so that it was
really impossible that he should fall off.
Mamma said it was not at all safe for a child to be fastened in that
way; for if Bluebeard should take into his head to roll on his back, he
would most probably kill the child. But as she had warned the father,
and had told him of all the pony's bad tricks, it was no longer her
affair to say anything about him, or to meddle with his arrangements.
It was a long time before Papa met with a pony to suit us better. The
next one was to be so large, that he would last us for many years; he
must be frisky enough to be pleasant and amusing, and yet must have no
bad tricks; no kicking and running away; and, above all, he must be
very pretty indeed, with long tail and mane.
All these qualities were not so easy to find combined; and before I
talk about the next pony, I will mention some of our other pets.
So good bye to dear little naughty Bluebeard.
JOE, THE GERMAN DOG.
Being for some months in a German town, we proposed, before returning
to England, that we should procure one of the strange-looking little
German terriers, with long backs and short legs; and we made inquiries
as to where we could obtain one of the real German breed. We found that
there are several different races of these dogs; they have all the long
back, and short bandy legs; but one kind is very large, with pointed
nose and long tail; another kind is small, with excessively soft hair,
small head and magnificent large eyes; another kind is small, rather
wiry in the hair, and unusually long and pointed in the nose.
After seeing several, we at last had one offered to us that we liked,
and bought; he was of the last-described species; his body long and
narrow, his legs very short and crooked, and his feet enormous, big
enough for a dog of three times the size; his tail was long, and
dangled down in an ungainly sort of way; his head was small, and his
nose much elongated and pointed; his eyes small and sparkling, and his
ears rather soft and long. Altogether, he was the queerest-looking
little animal you would wish to see. We named him Joe, and commenced
his education by showing him, that he was not to consider our baby
sister a species of rat, and to worry her accordingly, and by teaching
him to sleep on a rug in the corner of one of the bed-rooms. He was a
very sociable merry little fellow, liked scampering after us through
the range of rooms, all on one floor or flat, and enjoyed running along
the roads and in the park with us; but he was terribly chilly; he could
not bear sleeping on his mat, always wanting to be on the bed, or at
least muffled up in a flannel gown; and in the day, he was happiest
when he was allowed to creep under the stove and lie there, really
almost undergoing baking. I never saw an animal bear so much heat with
satisfaction to himself.
He destroyed half the things in the house before he got over his
puppy-days; but every one liked him, and he generally escaped
punishment. He was sharp enough to know his way home, in a very few
days after we bought him. We had him out in the park and missed him, a
long way from home; seeing no sign of him, we concluded that some one
had picked him up, and gave him up for lost, having no idea that the
little young creature would know its way home; and we were quite
surprised when we reached our own door, to find Joe sitting there
waiting; he had come along the crooked walks of the park, through the
streets, and up our long flight of stairs, and our opinion of his
sagacity rose in proportion.
Shortly after we had bought Joe, we travelled to England, and
determined to try whether we could manage to take him in the carriage
with us, instead of letting the poor little fellow be shut up in a
dog-box on the train, with, perhaps, a dozen other savage dogs. So
Papa carried him under his cloak; Joe was very good at the station,
and kept himself perfectly quiet, until we were all seated in the
railway-carriage. We were beginning to think that we had him safe for
that day's journey; and as soon as we had shewn our tickets, could let
him run about the carriage.
The ticket-taker came to the door, had looked all round, and Papa was
showing his ticket, when, at the last minute, Joe began to plunge and
push about under the cloak. Papa held him fast, but the stupid little
animal set up a yelp, just as the man was leaving the carriage. He
immediately asked if we had a dog, and poor Joe was hauled out by his
neck, and Papa had to run in great haste to see him placed in a
dog-box. And for the next three or four hours, Joe howled incessantly.
When we halted in the middle of the day, we managed better; Mamma took
him under her shawl, and got into the carriage some time before the
officials came peeping about, and he lay quiet in her lap, and no one
meddled with him; so the afternoon of his first day of travel was not
so miserable as the commencement. Altogether, Joe was a good deal of
trouble on the journey; there was always a fuss about gaining
permission to have him in the carriage, and we did not know what to do
with him at the inns, for fear he should go down stairs and be lost. At
last we reached England, and for a time lived in London.
At first we were much afraid that Joe would be darting out of the front
door, and would be stolen immediately. But he soon got used to the
confinement, only having a yard behind the house to run in, and he made
himself extremely happy. The house in which we were staying possessed
two dogs, a cat, a variety of birds, and in the yard lived a cock with
several hens.
Joe and the cat used to have famous games together, rolling each other
over and over, then racing round the kitchen, over the tables and
chairs. When pussy was tired, she sat upon a chair and slapped Joe's
face, whenever she could reach him, as he ran barking round the chair.
One of the dogs was very old and fat, and did not at all approve of the
new comer's vivacious ways, but growled at Joe fiercely when he tried
to entice him to play. The other dog was also too fat to be very
active; and when Joe found that no fun was to be had with them, he
merely danced round them now and then, to have the pleasure of making
them angry, and seeing them show their teeth; and then he left them to
their slumbers, and scampered off to the cat, who was more suited to
his age and manners.
Out in the yard he had much amusement with the fowls; at first sight he
had been rather frightened at them, but soon took pleasure in seeing
them flutter about and run away from him. The cock, however, did not
run away, but faced Master Joe, and crowed at him, and ran at him in
the most valiant manner; and when Joe was too pertinacious in barking
at him and teazing him, the cock actually sprang upon his back and
pecked him, until Joe crouched down on the ground fairly beaten. In
return, however, Joe nearly caused a death-warrant to be pronounced
against the cock and all the hens, by teaching them to eat eggs.
One morning, the hens were observed to be in a great state of
excitement, pecking greedily at something on the ground, which, on
examination, proved to be a new-laid egg, broken and devoured by the
unnatural hens. The next day another and another was found in the same
way; in fact, as soon as the eggs were laid, they were brought out of
the hen-house and broken. So it was agreed, that the hens having once
contracted this bad habit, could never be cured, and had better all be
killed. But before this determination had been put in practice, Mamma
chanced to look out of the window early, just after Joe had been sent
out for his morning walk, and spied the naughty creature coming out of
the hen-house with an egg in his mouth. Presently all the hens and the
cock ran out after him, calling, "Stop thief!" or, rather, implying
those words by their cackling and noise; and they pursued Joe round and
round the yard, until they came up with him all in a body, and the egg
being dropped in the scuffle, was of course broken; and then the hens
fell upon it and ate it up.
This it seems took place every morning. Joe fetched eggs out of the
nests; and the hens, after pretending to be very angry, ended by
joining in the robbery.
The next time Joe was seen with an egg in his mouth, one of the
servants went out and called to him, when he placed it on the ground so
gently, that it was not even cracked; and if we could manage to catch
him before the hens rushed upon him, we always obtained the egg safe
enough; for he did not break it or eat it himself, only put it into the
hen's heads to do so; and, probably, his only object was to make the
whole family of hens run after him, which he seemed much to enjoy.
So the sentence of death against the cock and hens was not pronounced,
as it seemed the whole fault lay with Joe; and whenever we could catch
him approaching the hen-house he received a good whipping.
He had, however, that sort of temper which cares not the least for
whipping or scolding; he never was at all abashed or cowed; but made a
most dreadful yelling whilst the whipping was inflicted, and the moment
he was released he would dance about perfectly happy, and immediately
go and repeat the fault--he was quite incorrigible.
We managed to prevent, in a great measure, his stealing eggs, by not
letting him out so early; and when he went into the yard people were
going in and out, that could watch him.
So, to make amends for the loss of his morning's fun, he used to push
aside the window curtain and blind, as soon as it was light, and stand
on his hind legs at the window, watching the cock and hens; now and
then signifying his approval of their proceedings by a short bark.
He slept in an arm-chair, covered up with an old dressing gown. On one
occasion this was removed, and we thought Joe would do just as well
without it; but with his great love of warmth, he absolutely refused to
sleep without a warm covering. He was much perturbed, and ran squeaking
about the room, till after keeping us awake half the night, we were
obliged to get up, and supply him with something soft to envelope him
in the arm-chair.