Black Beauty 19, 20, 21

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 19, 20, and 21 conclude Part 1 of the book while describing changes to the homestead. 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 19.

Only Ignorance I do not know how long I was ill.

Mr.

Bond,

The horse doctor,

Came every day.

I felt very faint and thought I should die,

And I believe they all thought so too.

Ginger and Marylegs had been moved into another stable so that I might be quiet,

For the fever made me very quick of hearing.

Any little noise seemed quite loud,

And I could tell everyone's footstep going to and from the house.

I knew all that was going on.

One night,

John had to give me a drought.

Thomas Green came to help him,

And after I'd taken it and John had made me as comfortable as he could,

He said he should stay half an hour to see how the medicine settled.

Thomas said he'd stay with me,

So they went and sat down on a bench that had been brought into Marylegs' stalls and put down the lantern at their feet,

That I might not be disturbed with the light.

For a while,

Both men sat silent,

And then Tom Green said in a low voice,

I wish John you'd say a bit of a kind word to Joe.

The boy is quite heartbroken,

He can't eat his meals,

And he can't smile.

He says he knows it was all his fault,

Though he's sure he did his best as he knew.

He says if Beauty dies,

No one will ever speak to him again.

It goes to my heart to hear him.

I think you ought to just give him a word.

He's not a bad boy.

After a short pause,

John said slowly,

You must not be too hard upon me,

Tom.

I know he meant no harm.

I never said he did.

I know he's not a bad boy.

But you see,

I am sore myself,

That horse is the pride of my heart,

To say nothing of his being such a favorite with the master and mistress,

And to think that his life may be flung away in this manner is more than I can bear.

But if you think I am too hard on the boy,

I will try to give him a good word tomorrow.

That is,

I mean if Beauty is better.

Well,

John,

Thank you.

I knew you wished not to be hard,

And I'm glad you see it was only ignorance.

John's voice almost startled me as he answered,

Only ignorance?

Only ignorance?

How can you talk about only ignorance?

Don't you know that that's the worst thing in the world,

Next to wickedness?

And which does the most mischief heaven only knows?

If people can say,

Oh,

I did not know,

I did not mean any harm,

They think it's all right.

Bill Starkey did not mean to frighten his brother into fits when he dressed up like a ghost and ran after him in the moonlight,

But he did.

And that bright,

Handsome little fella,

That might have been the pride of any mother's heart,

Is just no better left than an idiot,

And never will be if he lives to be 80 years old.

And you were a good deal cut up yourself,

Tom,

Two weeks ago when those young ladies left your hothouse door open with the frosty east wind blowing right in.

You said it killed a good many of your plants.

A good many,

Said Tom.

There was not one of the tender cuttings that was not nipped off.

I shall have to strike all over again,

And the worst of it is that I don't know where to get fresh ones.

I was nearly mad when I came in and saw what was done.

And yet,

Said John,

I'm sure the young ladies did not mean it,

It was only ignorance.

I heard no more of this conversation,

For the medicine did well and sent me to sleep,

And in the morning I felt much better.

But I often thought of John's words when I came to know more of the world.

20.

Joe Green Joe Green went on very well.

He learned quickly,

And was so attentive and careful that John began to trust him in many things.

But as I have said,

He was small of his age,

And it was seldom that he was allowed to exercise,

Either Ginger or me.

But it so happened one morning that John was out with Justice in the luggage cart,

And the master wanted a note to be taken immediately to a gentleman's house,

About three miles distance,

And sent his orders for Joe to saddle me and take it,

Adding the caution that he was to ride steadily.

The note was delivered,

And we were quietly returning when we came to a brick field.

Here we saw a cart heavily laden with bricks.

The wheels had stuck fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts,

And the carter was shouting and flogging the two horses unmercifully.

Joe pulled up.

It was a sad sight.

There were two horses straining and struggling with all their might to drag the cart out,

But they could not move it.

The sweat streamed from their legs and flanks,

Their sides heaved,

And every muscle was strained,

While the man fiercely pulling at the head of the forehorse soar and lashed most brutally.

Hold hard,

Said Joe.

Don't go on flogging the horses like that.

The wheels are so stuck they cannot move the cart.

The man took no heed.

Stop,

Pray stop,

Said Joe.

I'll help you lighten the cart.

They can't move it now.

Mind your own business,

You impudent young rascal,

And I'll mind mine.

The man was in a towering passion,

And the worse for drink,

And laid on the whip again.

Joe turned my head,

And the next moment we were going at a round gallop toward the house of the master brickmaker.

I cannot say if John would have approved our pace,

But Joe and I were both of one mind,

And so angry that we could not have gone slower.

The house stood close by the roadside.

Joe knocked at the door and shouted,

Hello,

Is Mr.

Clay at home?

The door was open,

And Mr.

Clay came out himself.

Hello,

Young man,

You seem in a hurry.

Any orders from the squire this morning?

No,

Mr.

Clay,

But there's a fellow in your brickyard flogging two horses.

I told him to stop,

And he wouldn't.

I said I'd help him to lighten the cart,

And he wouldn't.

So I've come to tell you,

Brace or go.

Joe's voice shook with excitement.

Thank ye,

My lad,

Said the man,

Running in for his hat,

Then pausing for a moment.

Will you give evidence of what you saw if I should bring the fellow up before the magistrate?

That I will,

Said Joe,

And glad to.

The man was gone,

And we were on our way home at a smart trot.

Why,

What's the matter with you,

Joe?

You look angry all over,

Said John,

As the boy flung himself from the saddle.

I am angry all over,

I can tell you,

Said the boy,

And then in hurried,

Excited words,

He told them all what happened.

Joe was usually such a quiet,

Gentle little fellow that it was wonderful to see him so roused.

Right,

Joe,

You did right,

My boy,

Whether the fellow gets his summons or not.

Many folks would have ridden by and said it was not their business to interfere.

Now I say that with cruelty and oppression,

It is everybody's business to interfere when they see it.

You did right,

My boy.

Joe was quite calm by this time,

And proud that John approved of him,

And cleaned out my feet and rubbed me down with a firmer hand than usual.

They were just going home to dinner when the footman came down to the stable to say that Joe was wanted directly in Master's private room.

There was a man brought for ill-using horses,

And Joe's evidence was wanted.

The boy fleshed up to his forehead,

And his eyes sparkled.

They shall have it,

Said he.

Put yourself a bit straight,

Said John.

Joe gave him a pull of his necktie and twitch at his jacket,

And was off in a minute.

Our master,

Being one of the county magistrates,

Cases were often brought to him to settle or to say what should be done.

In the stable we heard no more for some time,

As it was the men's dinner hour.

But when Joe came next in the stable,

I saw he was in high spirits.

He gave me a good-natured slap,

And said,

We won't see such things done,

Will we,

Old fellow?

We heard afterward that he had given his evidence so clearly,

And the horses were in such an exhausted state,

Bearing marks of brutal usage,

That the carter was committed to take his trial,

And might possibly be sentenced to two or three months in prison.

It was wonderful what a change had come over Joe.

John laughed,

And said he had grown an inch taller in that week,

And I believe he had.

He was just as kind and gentle as before,

But there was more purpose and determination in all that he said and did,

As if he had jumped at once from a boy into a man.

Chapter 21.

The Parting Now I have lived in this happy place three years,

But sad changes were about to come over us.

We heard from time to time that our mistress was ill,

The doctor was often at the house,

And the master looked grave and anxious.

Then we heard that she must leave her home at once,

And go to warm country for two or three years.

The news fell upon the household like the tolling of a death bell.

Everybody was sorry,

But the master began directly to make arrangements for breaking up his establishment,

And leaving England.

We used to hear it talked about in the stable.

Indeed,

Nothing else was talked about.

John went about his work silent and sad,

And Joe scarcely whistled.

There was a great deal of coming and going.

Ginger and I had full work.

The first of the party who were sent were Miss Jessie and Flora,

With the governess.

They came to bid us goodbye.

They hugged poor Mary Leggs like an old friend,

And so indeed he was.

Then we heard what was arranged for us.

Master had sold Ginger and me to his old friend,

The Earl of W.

,

For he thought we should have a good place there.

Mary Leggs,

He had been given to the vicar,

Who was wanting a pony for Miss Bloomfield,

But it was on the condition that he should never be sold.

Joe was engaged to take care of him and help him to the house,

So I thought that Mary Leggs was well off.

John had the offer of several good places,

But he said he should wait a little and look around.

The evening before they left,

The master came into the stable to give some directions,

And to give his horses the last pat.

He seemed very low-spirited.

I knew that by his voice.

I believe we horses can tell more by the voice than many men can.

Have you decided what to do,

John,

He said.

I find you have not accepted either of those offers.

No,

Sir.

I have made up my mind that if I could get a situation with some first-rate colt breaker and horse trainer,

It would be the right thing for me.

Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by wrong treatment,

Which need not be if the right man took them in hand.

I always get on well with horses,

And if I could help some of them to a fair start,

I should feel as if I am doing something good.

What do you think of that,

Sir?

I don't know a man anywhere,

Said master,

That I should think so suitable for it as yourself.

You understand horses,

And somehow they understand you,

And in the meantime,

You might set up for yourself.

I think you could not do better.

If in any way I can help you,

Write to me.

I shall speak to my agent in London and leave your character with him.

Master gave John the name and address,

And then he thanked him for his long and faithful service,

But that was too much for John.

Pray don't,

Sir,

I can't bear it.

You and my dear mistress have done so much for me that I could never repay it.

But we shall never forget you,

Sir,

And please,

God,

We may someday see mistress back again like herself.

We must keep up hope,

Sir.

Master gave John his hand,

But he did not speak,

And they both left the stable.

The last sad day had come.

The footman and the heavy luggage had gone off the day before,

And there were only master and mistress and her maid.

Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the hall for the last time.

The servants brought out cushions and rugs and many other things,

And when all were arranged,

Master came down the stairs carrying his mistress in his arms.

I was on the side next to the house,

And could see all that went on.

He placed her carefully in the carriage,

While the house servants stood round crying.

Goodbye again,

He said,

We shall not forget any of you,

And he got in.

Drive on,

John.

Joe jumped up,

And we trotted slowly through the park and through the village where the people were standing at their doors to have a last look and say,

God bless them.

When we reached the railway station,

I think mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting room.

I heard her say in her own sweet voice,

Goodbye John,

God bless you.

I felt the rain twitch,

But John made no answer.

Perhaps he could not speak.

As soon as Joe had taken the things out of the carriage,

John called him to stand by the horses,

While he went onto the platform.

Poor Joe,

He stood close up to our heads to hide his tears.

Very soon the train came puffing up into the station.

Then two or three minutes,

And the doors were slammed to,

The guard whistled,

And the train glided away,

Leaving behind it only clouds of white smoke and some very heavy hearts.

When it was quite out of sight,

John came back.

We shall never see her again,

He said,

Never.

He took the reins,

Mounted the box,

And with Joe drove slowly home,

But it was not our home now.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.