35 And 36 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, Sunday is sacred New 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 Adventures 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 36 The Sunday Cab One morning,
As Jerry had just put me into the shafts and was fastening the traces,
A gentleman walked into the yard.
Your servant,
Sir,
Said Jerry.
Good morning,
Mr Barker,
Said the gentleman.
I shall be glad to make some arrangements with you for taking Mrs Briggs regularly to church on Sunday mornings.
We go to the new church now,
And that's rather further than she can walk.
Thank you,
Sir,
Said Jerry,
But I've only taken out a six-days licence,
And therefore I can't take a fare on Sunday.
It won't be legal.
A few years since the annual charge for a cab licence was very much reduced.
Oh,
Said the gentleman,
I didn't know yours was a six-days cab,
But of course it would be very easy to alter your licence.
Oh,
See,
You did not lose by it.
The fact is Mrs Briggs very much prefers you to drive her.
I shall be glad to oblige the lady,
Sir,
But I had a seven-days licence won,
And the work was too hard,
Too hard for my horses.
Year in,
Year out,
Not a day's rest,
And never a Sunday with my wife and kids,
I'll never be able to go to a place of worship,
Which I'd always been used to do before I took to the driving box.
For the last five years,
I've only taken a six-days licence,
And I find it better all the way round.
Well,
Of course,
Replied Mr Briggs.
It's very proper every person should have rest and be able to go to church on Sundays,
But I should have thought you would have not minded such a short distance for the horse,
And only once a day.
You'll have all the afternoon and evening for yourself.
We're very good customers,
You know.
Yes,
Sir,
That is true,
And I am grateful for all the favours.
Anything I could do to oblige you or the lady,
I should be proud and happy to do,
But I can't give up my Sunday,
Sir,
Indeed I can't.
I read that God made man,
And he made horses and all the other beasts,
And as soon as he made them,
He made a day of rest.
He bade that all should rest at least one day in severed,
And I think,
Sir,
He must have known what was good for us.
I'm sure it's good for me,
Too.
I'm stronger and healthier all together now I have a day of rest,
And the horses are fresh.
They don't wear up nearly so fast.
The six-day drivers all tell me the same,
And I've laid more by money in the savings bank than ever I did before.
As for the wife and kids,
While alive,
They wouldn't go back to the seven days for all they could see.
Oh,
Very well,
Said the gentleman.
Don't trouble yourself,
Mr Barker,
Any further.
I'll enquire elsewhere.
He walked away,
And Jerry said,
We can't help it,
Jack old boy.
We must have our Sundays,
Mustn't we?
Polly?
He shouted,
Polly,
Over here.
Polly came in one minute.
What's it all about,
Jerry?
Well,
Me dear,
Mr Briggs wants me to take Mrs Briggs to church every Sunday morning.
I told him I only have a six-days licence,
And he said get a seven-days one and make it worth your while.
You know,
Polly,
They're very good customers.
Mrs Briggs often goes out shopping for hours or making calls,
And she pays down fair and honourable like a lady.
There's no beating down or making three hours to two and a half,
As some folks do.
It is easy work for the horses,
Not like tearing along to catch trains for people who are always a quarter of an hour too late.
If I don't oblige her in this manner,
It's very likely we'll lose them altogether.
What do you say,
Little girl?
Polly spook very slowly.
I say,
If Mrs Briggs will give you a sovereign every Sunday morning,
I would not have you a seven-days cabman again.
We've known what it's like to have no Sundays,
And now we call them our own.
Thank God you earn enough to keep us,
Although it's sometimes close work to pay for all the oats and hay and the licence and the rent.
But Harry will soon be earning something.
I'd rather struggle on harder than we do than go back to those horrid times when you hardly had a minute to look at your own kids.
God forbid if we should ever turn back to those times.
That's what I say,
Cherry.
And that is just what I told Mr Briggs,
My dear,
Said Cherry,
And what I mean to stick to,
So don't go and fret yourself.
I'll not go back to the old times if I earn twice as much.
So it's settled then.
Now cheer up and I'll be off to the stand.
Three weeks had passed after this conversation and no order had come from Mrs Briggs,
So there was nothing but taking jobs from the stand.
Cherry took it to heart a good deal,
For of course the work was harder for a wholesome man,
But Polly would always cheer him up.
Never mind,
She'd say.
Do your best and leave the rest.
It'll come all right.
Some day or night.
It soon became known that Cherry had lost his best customer,
And for what reason.
Most of the men said he was a fool,
But two or three took his side.
If working men don't stick to their Sunday,
Said Truman,
They'll soon have none left.
It's every man's right,
And every beast's right.
By God's law we have a day of rest,
And by the law of England we have a day of rest,
And I say we ought to hold to the rights these laws give us,
And keep them for our kids.
All very well for you religious taps to talk so,
Said Larry,
But I'll turn a shilly where I can.
I don't believe in religion,
For I don't see that your religious people are any better than the rest.
If they're not better,
Put in Jerry,
It's because they're not religious.
You might as well say our country's laws are not good because some people break them.
If a man gives way to his temper and speaks evil of his neighbour,
And doesn't pay his debts,
He's not religious.
I don't care how much he goes to church.
If some men are shams and hungbucks,
That doesn't make religion untrue.
Real religion is the best and truest thing in the world,
And the only thing that can make a man really happy,
Or the world we live in,
Any better.
If religion was good for anything,
Said Jones,
It will prevent your religious people from making us work on Sundays,
As you know many of them do.
And that's why I say religion's nothing but a sham.
If it was not for the church and chapel goers,
It would be hardly worthwhile our coming out on Sunday.
But they have their privileges,
As they call them,
And I go without.
I shall expect them to answer for my soul if I can't get a chance of saving it.
Several of the men then applauded this,
Until Jerry said,
That may sound well enough,
But it won't do.
Every man must look after his own soul.
You can't lay it down at another man's door like a foundling and expect him to take care of it.
Don't you see,
If you're always sitting on your box waiting for a fare,
They'll say,
If we don't take him,
Someone else will,
And he does not look for any Sunday.
Of course they don't go to the bottom of it,
Or they'd see.
If they never came for a cab,
It'd be no use your standing there.
People don't always like to go to the bottom of things.
It might not be convenient to do it,
But if you Sunday drivers would all strike for a day of rest,
Then the thing would be done.
It is not for me to lay down plans for other people,
Said Jerry,
But if they can't walk so far,
They can go to what's nearer,
And if it should rain,
They can put on their Macintoshes as they do on a weekday.
If a thing is right,
It can be done,
And if it's wrong,
It can be done without,
And any good man would find a way.
That is as true for us cabmen as it is for the churchgoers.
Two or three weeks later after this,
As we came into the yard rather late in the evening,
Polly came running across the road with the lantern.
It's come all right,
Jerry.
Mrs Briggs sent her servant this afternoon to get her to take her out tomorrow at eleven o'clock.
I said yes,
I thought so,
But we supposed she'd employed someone else.
Well,
Said he,
The real fact is Master was put out because Mr Barker refused to come on Sundays,
And he's been trying the other cabs.
But I've heard there's something wrong with them all.
Some drive too fast and some too slow,
And the mistress says there's not one of them so nice and clean as ours.
Nothing will suit her but Mr Barker's cab again.
Polly broke into a merry laugh.
Twill all come right some day or night,
Said Jerry.
You were right,
My dear,
You generally are.
Run in and get the supper,
And I'll have Jack's harness off and make him snug and happy in no time.
After this,
Mrs Briggs wanted Jerry's cab quite as often as before.
Never,
However,
On a Sunday.
But there came a day when we had a Sunday work,
And this was how it happened.
We'd all come home on the Saturday night very tired and very glad to think the next day would be rest.
But Sunday morning,
Jerry was cleaning me in the yard when Polly stepped up to him looking very full of something.
What is it?
Said Jerry.
Dinah Brown's just had a letter brought to say her mother's dangerously ill and she must go directly if she wishes to see her alive.
The place is more than ten miles away,
Out in the country,
And she says if she takes the train she'll have four miles to walk.
And so weak is she,
And the baby only four weeks old.
And of course it would be impossible,
And she wants to know if you'd take her in your cab,
And she promises to pay you faithfully as soon as she can get the money.
Oh,
Said Larry,
It's not the money I was thinking about,
But of losing our Sunday.
The horses are tired,
And I'm tired too.
That's where it pinches.
It pinches all round for that matter,
Said Polly.
It's only half Sunday without you,
But you know we should do other people as we should like them to do unto us,
And I know very well what I would like if my mother was dying.
Dear Jerry,
I'm sure it won't break the Sabbath.
If pulling a poor beast or donkey out of a pit wouldn't spoil it,
I'm quite sure taking poor Dinah wouldn't do it.
Polly,
You're as good as the minister,
Said Larry.
I've had my Sunday morning sermon early today.
You can go and tell Dinah I'll be ready for her as the clock strikes ten.
But step round to Butcher Braden's with my compliments and ask him if he'd lend me his light trap,
Will you?
I know he never uses it on a Sunday,
But it would make a wonderful difference to the horse.
Away Polly went,
And soon she returned saying that we could have the trap,
And we were welcome.
All right now,
Said Larry.
Put me up a bit of bread and cheese there,
And I'll be back in the afternoon as soon as I can.
And I'll have the meat pie ready for an early tea instead of dinner,
Said Polly,
And away she went.
I was selected for the journey,
And at ten o'clock we started in a light,
High-wheeled gig,
Which ran so easily,
That after the four-wheeled cab it seemed like nothing.
It was a fine May day,
And as soon as we were out of town the sweet air,
The smell of the fresh grass,
And the soft country roads were as pleasant as they used to be in the old times.
I began to feel quite fresh.
Dinah's family lived in a small farmhouse,
Up a green lane close by a meadow with some fine,
Shady trees.
There were two cows feeding in it,
And a young man asked Jerry to bring his trap into the meadow,
So he would tie me up in the cow shed.
If your cows won't be offended,
Said Jerry,
There's nothing my horse would like so well as to have an hour or two in your beautiful meadow.
He's quiet as Jack,
And it'll be a rare treat for him.
You're welcome,
Said the young man.
The best we have is at your service for your kindness to my sister.
We shall be having some dinner in an hour,
And I hope you'll come in.
Though with mother so ill,
We're out of salts as it is.
Jerry thanked him kindly,
But said as he had some dinner with him,
There was nothing he should like so well as walking about in the meadow.
When my harness was taken off,
I did not know what I should do first.
Whether to eat the grass,
Or roll on my back,
Or lie down and rest,
Or have a gallop across the meadow out of sheer spirits of being free.
I did all by turns.
Jerry seemed to be quite as happy as I was.
He sat down by a bank under a shady tree,
And listened to the birds.
Then he started to sing,
And read out of a little brown book,
And wander round the meadow and down by the little brook,
Where he picked the flowers and the hawthorn and tied them up with long sprays of ivy.
I had a good feed of oats that day,
Which he brought with him.
But the time seemed so short.
I had not been in a field since I left poor Ginger at Earlshaw.
We came home gently,
And Jerry's first words were as we came into the yard.
Well Polly,
Now I've not lost my Sunday after all.
The birds were singing hymns in every bush,
And I joined in the service.
And as for Jack,
He was like a young colt.
Then he handed Dolly the flowers,
And she jumped about for joy.
