31 And 32 Black Beauty - Read By Stephanie Poppins

Black Beauty - the Autobiography of a Horse - was written in 1877 novel by English author Anna Sewell. It was told from the perspective of a horse, who is the main character. Sewell wrote it in the last years of her life, during which she was bedridden and seriously ill. The novel became an immediate bestseller. With over fifty million copies sold, Black Beauty is one of the best-selling books of all time.

In this episode, a new life in London awaits.

This story has been adapted for radio by Stephanie Poppins at Neworld Books, and is designed to facilitate deep rest.

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Stoicism
Feminism
Sleep
Bedtime
story
Folklore
Relaxation
Literature
Historical context
Emotional healing
Grief
Social dynamics
Domestic life
Nostalgia
Reunion
Emotional reunion
Grief management
Storytelling
Imagination
Fantasy
Characters
Classic literature
Culture
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Moral lessons

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now,

And nowhere you need to go.

Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.

This is your time and your space.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

There is nothing you need to be doing now,

And nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 32 A Horse Fair No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to those who have nothing to lose.

At any rate,

There's plenty to see.

Long strings of young horses out of the country,

Fresh from the marshes,

And rows of shaggy little Welsh ponies no higher than merry legs.

Hundreds of cart horses of all sorts,

Some of them with their long tails braided up and tied with a scarlet cord,

And a good many like myself,

Handsome and high-bred,

But fallen into the middle class through some accident or blemish,

Unsoundness of wind or other complaint.

There were some splendid animals quite in their prime and fit for anything.

They were throwing out their legs and showing off their paces in high style as they were trotted out with the leading rein,

The groom running by their side.

But round in the background there were a number of poor things,

Sadly broken down with hard work,

Their knees were knuckling over and their hind legs swinging out at every step.

Some very dejected looking old horses,

Had their lip hanging down and ears lying back heavily as if there were no more pleasure in life and no more hope.

These were sad sights for a horse to look upon,

Who knows not but that he may come to the same state himself.

There was a great deal of bargaining,

Of running up and beating down,

And if a horse may speak his mind as far as he understands,

I should say there were more lies told and more trickery at that horse fair than a clever man could give an account of.

I was put with two or three other strong,

Useful looking horses,

A good many people came to look at us.

The gentlemen always turned from me when they saw my broken knees,

But the man who had me swore it was only a slip in the stall.

The first thing was to pull my mouth open and look in my eyes,

Then feel all the way down my legs.

It was wonderful what a difference there was in the way these things were done.

Some did it in a rough offhand way,

As if I was only a piece of wood,

But others took their hands gently over me with a pat now and then,

As if to say,

Buy your leave.

Of course I judged some good deal of the buyers by their manners to myself.

There was one man I thought if he would buy me I should be happy.

He was not a gentleman,

Not yet one of the loud flashy sort that call themselves so.

He was rather a small man,

But well made,

And quick in all his motions.

I knew in a moment by the way he handled me he was used to horses.

He spoke gently and his grey eye had a kind,

Cheery look in it.

It may seem strange to say,

But it's true all the same that the clean,

Fresh smell there was about him made me take to him.

There was no smell of old beer or tobacco which I hated,

But a fresh smell as if he'd just come out of a hayloft.

He offered twenty-three pounds,

But that was refused and he walked away.

I looked after him,

But he was gone,

And then a very hard-looking,

Loud-voiced man came.

I was afraid he would have me,

But he walked off.

One or two more came who didn't mean business,

Then the hard-faced man came back again.

He offered twenty-three pounds.

A very close bargain was being driven,

For my salesman began to think he should not get all he asked and must come down,

But just then the grey-eyed man came back.

I could not help reaching out my head towards him.

He stroked my face kindly.

Well,

Old chap,

He said,

I think we'll suit each other.

I'll give twenty-four for him.

Say twenty-five and you'll have him.

Twenty-four ten,

And not another sixpence,

Yes or no?

Done,

Said the salesman,

And you may depend upon it,

There's a monstrous deal of quality in that horse.

If you want him for cab work,

He's a bargain.

The money was paid on the spot,

And my new master took my halter and led me out of the thoroughfare to an inn,

Where he had a saddle and bridle ready.

He gave me a good feed of oats and stood by while I ate it,

Talking to himself and to me.

Half an hour after we were on our way to London,

Through pleasant lanes and country roads,

Until we came to the great London thoroughfare,

On which we travelled steadily,

Till in the twilight we reached the great city.

The gas lamps were already lighted,

There were streets to the right and streets to the left,

And streets crossing each other for mile upon mile.

I thought we should never come to the end of them.

At last,

In passing through one,

We came to a long cab stand,

Where my rider called out,

Good night,

Governor.

Hello,

Cried a voice,

Have you got a good one?

I think so,

Replied my owner.

I wish you luck with him.

Thanks,

Governor.

Then he rode on.

We soon turned up one of the side streets,

And about half way up we turned into a very narrow street,

With rather poor looking houses on one side,

And what seemed to be coach houses and stables on the other.

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and whistled,

And that door flew open.

A young woman,

Followed by a little girl and boy ran out.

There was a very lively greeting as my rider dismounted.

Now then,

Harry,

My boy,

Open the gates and mother I'll bring us the lantern.

The next minute they were all standing around me in the stable yard.

Is he gentle,

Father?

This dolly is gentle as your own kitten,

Come and pat him.

At once the little hand was patting me over my shoulders,

Without fear,

And how good it felt.

Let me get him a brown mash while you rub him down,

Said the mother.

Good idea,

Polly,

It's just what he wants.

Now I know you've got a beautiful mash ready for me.

Sausage,

Dumpling and apple turnover,

Shouted the boy,

Which set them all laughing.

At this,

I was led into a comfortable,

Clean smelling stall,

With plenty of dry stall,

And after a capital supper,

I lay down,

Thinking I was going to be very happy.

Jeremiah Barker was my new master's name,

But as everyone called him Jerry,

I'll do the same.

Polly,

His wife,

Was as good a match as a man could have.

She was a plump,

Trim,

Tiny little woman,

With smooth dark hair,

Dark eyes and a merry little mouth.

Their boy was twelve years old,

A tall,

Frank,

Good-tempered lad,

And little Dorothy,

Or Dolly as they called her,

Was her mother over again at eight.

They were all wonderfully fond of each other.

I never knew such a happy,

Merry family before or since.

Jerry had a cab of his own and two horses,

Which he drove and attended to himself.

His other horse was a tall,

White,

Rather large-boned animal called Captain.

He was old now,

But when he was young he must have been splendid.

He still had a proud way of holding his head and arching his neck.

In fact,

He was a high-bred,

Fine-mannered,

Noble old horse,

Every inch of him.

He told me in his early youth he went to the Crimean War.

He belonged to an officer in the cavalry and used to lead the regiment.

The next morning,

When I was well-groomed,

Polly and Dolly came to the yard to see me and make friends.

Harry had been helping his father since the early morning and had stated his opinion that I should turn out a regular brick.

Polly bought me a slice of apple and Dolly a piece of bread and made as much of me as if I'd been the black beauty of olden times.

It was great to be petted again and talked to in a gentle voice.

I let them see as well as I could I wished to be friendly.

Polly thought I was very handsome and a great deal too good for a cab if it was not for the broken knees.

Of course there's no one to tell us whose fault that was,

Said Jerry,

As long as I don't know I'll give him the benefit of the doubt,

For a firmer knee to step I never rode.

We'll call him Jack after the old one,

Shall we Polly?

Do,

She said.

I like to keep a good name going.

Captain went out to the cab all morning.

Harry came in after school to feed me and give me water and in the afternoon I was put into the cab.

Jerry took as much pains to see the collar and bridle fitted comfortably as if he'd been John Manley over again.

There was no check rein,

No curb,

Nothing but a plain ring snaffle.

What a blessing!

After driving through the side street we came to a large cab stand where Jerry said goodnight and on one side of this wide street were high houses with wonderful shopfronts.

On the other was an old church and churchyard surrounded by iron palisades.

Along these iron rails a number of cabs were drawn up.

They were waiting for passengers and bits of hay were lying about on the ground.

Some of the men were standing together talking,

Some sitting on their boxes reading the newspaper and one or two were feeding their horses with bits of hay.

We pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab and two or three men came round and began to look at me.

Very good for a funeral,

Said one.

Too smart looking,

Said another.

You find out something wrong one of these fine mornings or my name ain't Jones.

Well,

Said Jerry pleasantly,

I suppose I need not find it out till it finds me out,

Hey,

And if so I'll keep up my spirits a little longer.

Then there came up a broad-faced man dressed in a great grey coat with a great grey cap and great white buttons.

His hair was grey too but he was a jolly looking fellow and the other men made way for him.

He looked me all over as if he'd been going to buy me.

Then straightening himself up with a grunt he said,

He's the right sort for you,

Jerry,

I don't care what you gave for him,

He'll be worth it.

And thus my character was established on the stand.

The first week of my life as a cab horse was very trying.

I'd never been used to London and the noise,

The hurry and the crowds of horses,

Carts and carriages.

I felt anxious and harassed but I soon found out I could perfectly trust my driver and then I made myself easy and got used to it.

Jerry was as good a driver as I'd ever known and what was better,

He took as much thought for his horses as he did for himself.

He soon found out I was willing to work and do my best and he never laid the whip on me unless it was generally drawing the end of it over my back when I was to go on.

But I knew this quite well by the way he took up the reins.

I believe his whip was more frequently stuck up by his side than in his hand.

In a short time we understood each other as well as horse and man can do and in the stable too he did all he could for our comfort.

The stalls were the old-fashioned style,

Too much on the slope but he had two movable bars fitted across the back so that at night when we were resting he just took off our halters and put up the bars and we could turn about and stand whichever way we pleased.

Jerry kept us very clean and gave us as much change of food as he could.

There was always plenty of fresh water which he allowed to stand by us both day and night.

Some people say a horse ought not to drink all he likes but I know if we were allowed to drink when we wanted to it would do us a great deal more good than swallowing down half a bucketful when at last it came.

So all in all I decided life was good with Jerry and Captain next door for a companion.

Reviews

😘👌 Good Job, once again, Stephanie.. Thankyou. ☺🙏🌻🐱🐱