Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 11860-h.htm or 11860-h.zip:
(http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/8/6/11860/11860-h/11860-h.htm)
or
(http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/8/6/11860/11860-h.zip)
BLACK BEAUTY
YOUNG FOLKS' EDITION
1902
[Illustration]
BLACK BEAUTY
CHAPTER I
MY EARLY HOME
The first place that I can well remember was a pleasant meadow with a
pond of clear water in it. 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. 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 warm shed near the grove.
There were six young colts in the meadow beside me; they were older than
I was. I used to run with them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all
together round the field, as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had
rather rough play, for they would bite and kick, as well as gallop.
[Illustration]
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. The colts who live here are very good colts, but they
are cart-horse colts, and they have not learned manners. You have been
well-bred and well-born; your father has a great name in these parts,
and your grandfather won the cup at the 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."
[Illustration]
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 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 town on a market-day in
a light gig.
We had a ploughboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field to pluck
blackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted he would
have what he called fun with the colts, throwing stones and sticks at
them to make them gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could gallop
off; but sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us.
One day he was at this game, and did not know that the master was in the
next field, watching what was going on; over the hedge he jumped in a
snap, and catching Dick by the arm, he gave him such a box on the ear as
made him roar with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw the master
we trotted up nearer to see what went on.
"Bad boy!" he said, "bad boy! to chase the colts. This is not the first
time, but it shall be the last. There--take your money and go home; I
shall not want you on my farm again." So we never saw Dick any more. Old
Daniel, the man who looked after the horses, was just as gentle as our
master; so we were well off.