Black Beauty 13, 14, 15

Enjoy this bedtime tale to help you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Tonight's reading is Black Beauty by Anna Sewell. Through the eyes of a horse, chapters 13, 14, and 15 describe ethical and moral ways to treat animals. This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic, or embark on an adventure before a great night's sleep.

Transcript

CHAPTER XIII THE DEVIL'S TRADEMARK One day when John and I had been out on some business of our master's and were returning gently on a long,

Straight road,

At some distance we saw a boy trying to leap a pony over a gate.

The pony would not take the leap,

And the boy cut him with the whip,

But he only turned off on one side.

He whipped him again,

But the pony turned off on the other side.

Then the boy got off and gave him a hard thrashing and knocked him about the head.

Then he got up again and tried to make him leap the gate,

Kicking him all the time shamefully,

But still the pony refused.

When we were nearly at the spot the pony put down his head and threw up his heels and sent the boy neatly over the broad,

Quick-set hedge.

And with the rain dangling from his head,

He set off home at full gallop.

John laughed out quite loud.

Served him right,

He said.

Oh,

Oh,

Cried the boy as he struggled out among the thorns.

I say,

Come and help me out.

Thank ye,

Said John.

I think you are quite in the right place,

And maybe a little scratching will teach you how not to leap a pony over a gate that is too high for him.

And so with that,

John rode off.

It may be,

Said he to himself,

That young fellow is a liar as well as a cruel one.

We'll just go home by Farmer Bushby's,

Beauty,

And then if anybody wants to know,

You and I can tell him.

So we turned off to the right and soon came up to the stackyard and within sight of the house.

The Farmer was hurrying out into the road,

And his wife was standing at the gate looking very frightened.

Have you seen my boy?

Said Mr.

Bushby as we came up.

He went out an hour ago on my black pony,

And the creature has just come back without a rider.

I should think,

Sir,

Said John,

He had better be without a rider,

Unless he can be ridden properly.

What do you mean?

Said the Farmer.

Well,

Sir,

I saw your son whipping and kicking and knocking that good little pony about shamefully because he would not leap a gate that was too high for him.

The pony behaved well,

Sir,

And showed no vice,

But at last he just threw up his heels and tipped the young gentleman into the thorn hedge.

He wanted me to help him out,

But I hope you will excuse me,

Sir.

I did not feel inclined to do so.

There's no bones broken,

Sir.

He'll only get a few scratches.

I love horses,

And it riles me to see them badly used.

It is a bad plan to aggravate an animal till he uses his heels.

The first time is not always the last.

During this time,

The mother began to cry.

Oh,

My poor Bill.

I must go and meet him.

He must be hurt.

You had better go into the house,

Wife,

Said the Farmer.

Bill wants a lesson about this,

And I must see that he gets it.

This is not the first time nor the second that he is ill-used that pony,

And I shall stop it.

I am much obliged to you,

Manly.

Good evening.

So we went on,

John chuckling all the way home.

Then he told James about it,

Who laughed and said,

Serve him right.

I knew that boy at school.

He took great airs on himself because he was the Farmer's son.

He used to swagger about and bully the little boys.

Of course,

We elder ones would not have any of that nonsense,

And let him know that in school and in the playground,

Farmer's sons and Laborer's sons were all alike.

I well remember one day,

Just before afternoon school,

I found him at the large window catching flies and pulling off their wings.

He did not see me,

And I gave him a box on the ears that laid him sprawling on the floor.

Well,

Angry as I was,

I was almost frightened.

He roared and bellowed in such a style.

The boys rushed in from the playground,

And the Master ran in from the road to see who was being murdered.

Of course,

I said fair and square at once what I had done,

And why,

When I showed the Master the flies,

Some crushed and some crawling about helpless,

And I showed him the wings on the windowsill.

I never saw him so angry before,

But as Bill was still howling and whining like the coward that he was,

He did not give him any more punishment of that kind,

But set him up for a stool for the rest of the afternoon,

And said that he should not go out to play for that week.

Then he talked to all the boys very seriously about cruelty,

And said how hard-hearted and cowardly it was to hurt the weak and the helpless.

But what stuck in my mind was this.

He said that cruelty was the Devil's own trademark.

And if we saw anyone who took pleasure in cruelty,

We might know who he belonged to,

For the Devil was a murderer from the beginning and a tormentor at the end.

On the other hand,

Where we saw people who loved their neighbors and were kind to man and beast,

We might know that that was God's mark.

"'Your master never taught you a truer thing,

' said John.

There is no religion without love.

And people may talk as much as they like about their religion,

But if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast,

It is all a sham,

All a sham,

James,

And it won't stand when things come to be turned inside out.

" CHAPTER XIV.

JAMES HOWARD Early one morning in December,

John had just led me into my box after my daily exercise and was strapping my cloth on,

And James was coming in from the corn chamber with some oats when the master came into the stable.

He looked rather serious and held an open letter in his hand.

John fastened the door of my box,

Touched his cap,

And waited for orders.

"'Good morning,

John,

' said the master.

'I want to know if you've had any complaint to make of James.

' "'Complaint,

Sir?

No,

Sir.

' "'Is he industrious at his work and respectful to you?

' "'Yes,

Sir,

Always.

' "'You'll never find he slights his work when your back is turned?

' "'Never,

Sir.

' "'That's well,

But I must put out another question.

Have you no reason to suspect when he goes out with the horses to exercise them or to take a message that he stops about talking to his acquaintances or goes into houses where he has no business,

Leaving the horses outside?

' "'No,

Sir,

Certainly not.

And if anybody has been saying that about James,

I don't believe it,

And I don't mean to believe it unless I have a fairly proved witness.

It's not for me to say who he's been trying to take away James' character,

But I will say this,

Sir,

That a steadier,

Pleasanter,

Honester,

Smarter young fellow I have never had in this stable.

I can trust his word,

And I can trust his work.

He is gentle and clever with the horses,

And I would rather have them in charge with him than with half the young fellows I know of in laced hats and liveries,

And whoever wants a character of James Howard,

' said John,

With a decided jerk of his head.

Let them come to John manly.

" The master stood all this time grave and attentive,

But as John finished his speech,

A broad smile spread over his face,

And looking kindly across at James,

Who all this time had stood still at the door,

He said,

"'James,

My lad,

Set down the oats and come here.

I am very glad to find that John's opinion of your character agrees so exactly with my own.

John is a cautious man,

' he said,

With a droll smile,

And it is not always easy to get his opinion about people.

So I thought if I beat the bush on this side of the birds would fly out,

And I should learn what I wanted to know quickly.

So now we'll come to business.

I have a letter from my brother-in-law,

Sir Clifford Williams of Clifford Hall.

He wants me to find him a trustworthy young groom,

About twenty or twenty-one,

Who knows his business.

His old coachman who has lived with him thirty years is getting feeble,

And he wants a man to work with him and get into his ways,

Who would be able,

When the old man has pensioned off,

To step into his place.

He would have eighteen shillings a week at first,

A stable suit,

A driving suit,

A bedroom over the coach house,

And a boy under him.

Sir Clifford is a good master,

And if you could get that place it would be a good start for you.

I don't want to part with you,

And if you left us I know John would lose his right hand.

That I should,

Sir,

Said John,

But I would not stand in his light for the world.

How old are you,

James,

Said Master?

Nineteen next May,

Sir.

That's young.

What do you think,

John?

Well,

Sir,

It is young,

But he is as steady as a man,

And is strong and well grown,

And though he has not had much experience in driving,

He is a light firm hand and a quick eye,

And he is very careful,

And I am quite sure no horse of his will be ruined for want of having his feet and shoes looked after.

Your word will go the furthest,

John,

Said the Master,

For Sir Clifford adds in a post script,

If I could find a man trained by your John,

I should like him better than any other.

So,

James,

Lad,

Think it over,

Talk to your mother at dinner time,

And then let me know what your wish is.

In a few days after this conversation it was fully settled that James should go to Clifford Hall,

In a month or six weeks,

As it suited his Master,

And in the meantime he was to get all the practice in driving that could be given to him.

I never knew the carriage to go out so often before,

When the Mistress did not go,

The Master drove himself in the two-wheeled chase,

But now,

Whether it was Master or the young ladies,

Or only an errand,

Ginger and I were put in the carriage,

And James drove us.

At the first John rode with him in the box,

Telling him this and that,

And after that James drove alone.

Then it was wonderful what a number of places the Master would go in the city on Saturday,

And what queer streets we were driven through.

He was sure to go to the railway station just as the train was coming in.

And cabs and carriages,

Carts and omnibuses were all trying to get over the bridge together.

That bridge wanted good horses and good drivers when the railway bell was ringing,

For it was narrow,

And there was a very sharp turn at the station,

Where it would not have been at all difficult for people to run into each other if they did not look sharp and keep their wits about them.

Chapter 15.

The Old Hustler After this,

It was decided by my Master and Mistress to pay a visit to some friends,

Who lived about forty-six miles from our home,

And James was to drive them.

The first day we travelled thirty-two miles.

There were some long,

Heavy hills,

But James drove so carefully and thoughtfully that we were not at all harassed.

He never forgot to put on the brake as we went downhill,

Nor to take it off at the right place.

He kept our feet on the smoothest part of the road,

And if the uphill was very long,

He set the carriage wheels a little across the road,

So as not to run back,

And gave us a breathing.

All these little things help a horse very much,

Particularly if he gets kind words into the bargain.

We stopped once or twice on the road,

And just as the sun was going down we reached the town where we were to spend the night.

We stopped at the principal hotel,

Which was in the marketplace.

It was a very large one.

We drove under an archway with a long yard,

At the further end of which were the stables and coach houses.

Two hustlers came to take us out.

The head hustler was a pleasant,

Active little man,

With a crooked leg and a yellow-striped waistcoat.

I never saw a man unbuckle harnesses so quickly as he did,

And with a pat and a good word he led me to a long stable,

With six or eight stalls in it,

And two or three horses.

The other man brought ginger.

James stood by while we were rubbed down and cleaned.

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as that by a little old man.

When he was done,

James stepped up and felt me over,

As if he thought I could not be thoroughly done,

But he found my coat as clean and smooth as silk.

Well,

He said,

I thought I was pretty quick,

And are John quicker still,

But you do beat all I've ever saw for being quick and thorough at the same time.

Practice makes perfect,

Said the crooked little hustler,

And it would be a pity if I didn't.

Forty years' practice and not perfect.

Ha ha,

That would be a pity,

And as to be quick,

Why,

Bless you,

That is only a matter of habit.

If you get into the habit of being quick,

It is just as easy as being slow.

Easier,

I should say.

In fact,

I don't agree with my health to be hulking about over a job twice as long as I need to take it.

Bless you.

I couldn't whistle if I crawled over my work as some folks do.

You see,

I've been about horses ever since I was twelve years old.

In hunting stables and racing stables.

And being small,

You see,

I was jockey for several years.

But at the good word,

You see,

The turf was very slippery,

And my poor lockspur got a fall,

And I broke my knee,

And so of course I was of no more use there.

But I could not live without horses.

Of course I couldn't.

So I took to the hotels,

And I can tell you,

It is a downright pleasure to handle an animal like this.

Well bred,

Well mannered,

Well cared for,

Bless ye.

I can tell how a horse is treated.

Give me the handling of a horse for twenty minutes,

And I'll tell you what sort of groom he has had.

Look at this one.

Pleasant,

Quiet,

Turns about just as you want him.

Holds up his feet to be cleaned out,

Or anything else you please.

And you'll find another fidgety,

Freddy,

Won't move this way or that,

Or starts across the stall,

Tosses up his head as soon as you come near him,

Lays his ears,

And seems afraid of you,

Or else squares about an inch with you at his heels.

Poor things.

I know what sort of treatment they have had.

If they are timid,

It makes them start or shy.

If they are high meddled,

It makes them vicious or dangerous.

Their tempers are mostly made when they are young.

Bless you.

They are like children,

Up and away they should be,

As the good book says.

And when they are old,

They will not depart from it,

If they have a chance.

I like to hear you talk,

Said James.

That's the way we lay it down at home at our master's.

Who is your master,

Young man?

If it be a proper question,

I should judge he's a good one,

From what I see.

He is Squire Gordon,

Of Birtwick Park,

The other side of the Beacon Hills,

Said James.

Ah,

So,

So.

I have heard tell of him.

Fine judge of horses,

Ain't he?

The best rider in the county.

I believe he is,

Said James,

But he rides very little now.

Since the poor young master was killed.

Ah,

Poor gentleman.

I read all about it in the paper at the time.

A fine horse killed too,

Wasn't there?

Yes,

Said James.

He was a splendid creature,

Brother to this one,

And just like him.

Pity,

Pity,

Said the old man.

Twas a bad place to leap,

If I remember.

A thin fence at top.

A steep bank down to the stream,

Wasn't it?

No chance for a horse to see where he was going.

Now I am for bold riding as much as any man,

But still there are some leaps that only a very knowing old huntsman has any right to take.

A man's life and a horse's life are worth more than a fox's tail.

At least,

I should say they ought to be.

During this time the other man had finished ginger,

And had brought our corn,

And James and the old man left the stable together.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.

Reviews

Thank you for making this book available and for reading it so lovely 🙏🐴✨