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 6 Liberty I was quite happy in my new place and if there was one thing that I missed it must not be that I thought I was discontented.
All who had to do with me were good and I had a light airy stable and a best of food.
What more could I want?
Why,
Liberty!
For three years and a half of my life I had had all the liberty I could wish for.
But now,
Week after week,
Month after month and no doubt year after year,
I must stand up in a stable night and day,
Except when I wanted,
And then I must be just as steady and quiet as any old horse who's worked twenty years.
Straps here and straps there,
A bit in my mouth and blinkers over my eyes.
Now I'm not complaining,
For I know it must be so.
I only mean to say that for a young horse full of strength and spirits who's been used to some large field or plain where he can fling up his head and toss his tail and gallop away at full speed,
Then round and back again with a snort to his companions,
I say it is hard never to have a bit more liberty to do as you like.
Sometimes when I have had less exercise than usual,
I felt so full of life and spring.
Then,
When John's taken me out to exercise,
I really could not keep quiet.
Do what I would,
It seemed as if I must jump or dance or prance,
And many a good shake I know I must have given him,
Especially at the first,
But he was always good and patient.
Steady,
Steady,
My boy,
He would say,
Wait a bit,
We'll have a good swing and soon get the tickle out of your feet.
Then,
As soon as we were out of the village,
He would give me a few miles and a spanking trot,
And then bring me back as fresh as before,
Only clear of the fidgets,
As he called them.
Sprinted horses,
When not enough exercised,
Are often called skittish,
When it is only play.
Some grooms will punish them,
But our John did not,
He knew it was only high spirits.
Still,
He had his own ways of making me understand by the tone of his voice,
Or the touch of the rain.
If he was very serious and determined,
I always knew it by his voice,
And that had more power with me than anything else,
For I was very fond of him.
I ought to say that sometimes we had our liberty for a few hours.
This used to be on fine Sundays in the summer time.
The carriage never went out on Sundays,
Because the church was not far off.
It was a great treat to us to be turned out into the home paddock or the old orchard.
The grass was so cool and soft to our feet,
The air was so sweet,
And the freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant,
To gallop,
Lie down and roll over on our backs,
Or to nibble the sweet grass.
Then it was a very good time for talking,
As we stood together under the shade of the large chestnut tree.
Chapter 7 Ginger One day when Ginger and I were standing alone in the shade,
We had a great deal of talk.
She wanted to know all about my bringing up and breaking in,
So I told her.
"'Well,
' said she,
"'if I had had your bringing up,
I might have had as good a temper as you,
But now I don't believe I ever shall.
' "'Why not?
' I said.
"'Because it's been so different with me,
' she replied.
I never had any one,
Horse or man,
That was kind to me,
Or that I cared to please,
For in the first place I was taken from my mother as soon as I was weaned,
And put with a lot of other young colts.
None of them cared for me,
And I cared for none of them.
There was no kind master like yours to look after me,
And talk to me,
And bring me nice things to eat.
The man that had the care of us never gave me a kind word in my life.
I do not mean that he'll use me,
But he did not care for us one bit further than to see we had plenty to eat and shelter in the winter.
A footpath ran through our field.
Very often the great boys passing would fling stones to make us gallop.
I was never hit,
But one fine young colt was badly cut in the face.
I should think it would be a scar for life.
We did not care for those boys,
But of course it made us more wild,
And we settled it in our minds that they were our enemies.
We had very good fun in the free meadows,
Galloping up and down and chasing each other round and round the field,
Then standing still under the shade of the trees.
But when it came to breaking in,
That was a bad time.
Several men came to catch me,
And when at last they closed me in one corner of the field,
One caught me by the forelock,
Another caught me by the nose,
And held it so tight I could hardly draw my breath.
Then another took my underjaw in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth open,
And by force they got on the halter and the bar.
Then one dragged me along by the halter,
Flogging behind another one,
And this was the first experience I had of men's kindness.
It was all force.
They did not give me a chance to know what they wanted.
I was high bred and had a great deal of spirit,
And was very wild,
They said.
I gave them,
I dare say,
Plenty of trouble,
But it was dreadful to be set up in a stall all day instead of having my liberty,
And I fretted and pined and wanted to get loose.
You know yourself it's bad enough when you have a kind master and plenty of coaxing,
But there was nothing of that sort for me.
There was one,
She went on,
The old master Mr.
Ryder.
I think he could soon have brought me round and could have done anything with me,
But had he given up all the hard part of the trade to his son and another experienced man,
Then he only came at times to oversee.
His son was a strong,
Tall,
Bold man,
And they called him Samson.
He used to boast he'd never found a horse that could throw him.
There was no gentleness in him as there was in his father,
But only hardness.
A hard voice and a hard eye and a hard hand.
I felt from the first all that he wanted was to wear all the spirit out of me and make me into a quite humble,
Obedient piece of horse flesh.
Yes,
That is all that he thought about.
Then Ginger stamped her foot as if the very thought of him made her angry.
If I did not do exactly what he wanted,
She continued,
He would get put out and make me run around with the long rein in the training field till he tired me out.
One afternoon after a terrible struggle I threw him off backward after a flogging.
I heard him fall heavily on the turf,
And without looking behind me I galloped off to the other end of the field,
And there I turned round and saw my persecutor slowly rising from the ground and going into the stable.
I stood under an oak tree and watched,
But no one came to catch me.
The time went on and the sun was very hot.
The fly swarmed round me and settled on my flanks where the spurs had dug in,
And I felt very hungry for I had not eaten since the morning.
Then the sun got low and I saw the other colts lead in,
And knew they were having a good feed.
But at last,
Just as the sun went down,
I saw my old master come out.
Come along lassie,
He called me,
Come along,
And I stood still and let him come up,
And he held out some oats to me,
And I began to eat without fear.
His voice always took all my fear away.
He growled something about the young man being a vicious brute,
And said he hadn't learned his trade yet.
Then he led me into my box,
Took off my saddle and bridle with his own hands,
Tied me up and called for a pail of water and a sponge,
And while the stable man held the pail,
He sponged my sides a good while,
So tenderly,
I knew he knew how sore and bruised they were.
After that,
He often came to see me,
And when my mouth at last was healed,
The other break a job,
They called him,
He went on training me instead.
He was far more steady and very thoughtful,
And I soon learned exactly what to do.
