Black Beauty The Autobiography of a Horse by Anna Sewell, NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble
BLACK BEAUTY: The Autobiography of a Horse

BLACK BEAUTY: The Autobiography of a Horse

4.1 9
by Anna Sewell
     
 

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01 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

Overview

01 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 grown-up 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 cart-horse colts, and
of course 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 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
day in a light gig.

There was a plowboy, 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; but he was there, 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, nor the second, 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.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
2940012635594
Publisher:
SAP
Publication date:
02/10/2011
Sold by:
Barnes & Noble
Format:
NOOK Book
File size:
141 KB

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