Black Beauty 46, 47

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 46 and 47 continue the experiences of Black Beauty with new owners. 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

Part Four Chapter Forty-Six Jake's and the Lady I was sold to a corn dealer in Baker whom Jerry knew,

And with him he thought I should have good food and fair work.

In the first he was quite right,

And if my master had always been on the premises I do not think I should have been overlooked,

But there was a foreman who was always hurrying and driving everyone,

And frequently,

When I had quite a full load,

He would order something else to be taken on.

My carter,

Whose name was Jake's,

Often said it was more than I ought to take,

But the other always overruled him.

It was no use going twice when once would do,

And he chose to get business forward.

Jake's,

Like other carters,

Always had the check rain up,

Which prevented me from drawing easily,

And by the time I had been there three or four months I found the work telling very much on my strength.

One day I was loaded more than usual,

And part of the road was a steep uphill.

I used all my strength,

But I could not get on,

And was obliged continually to stop.

This did not please my driver,

And he laid his whip on badly.

Get on,

You lazy fellow,

He said,

Or I'll make you.

Again,

I started the heavy load,

And struggled on a few yards.

Again the whip came down,

And again I struggled forward.

To be punished and abused when I was doing my very best was so hard it took the heart out of me.

The third time he did this,

A lady stepped quickly up to him and said in a sweet,

Earnest voice,

Oh,

Pray do not whip your good horse any more.

I'm sure he's doing all he can,

And the road is very steep.

I am sure he's doing his best.

If doing his best won't get this load up,

He must do something more than his best.

That's all I know,

Ma'am,

Said Jake's.

But is it not a heavy load,

She said.

Yes,

Yes,

Too heavy,

He said,

But that's not my fault.

The foreman came just as we were starting,

And would have three hundred weight more put on to save the trouble,

And I must get on with it as well as I can.

He was raising the whip again,

And the lady said,

Pray stop.

I think I can help you if you'll let me.

The man laughed.

You see,

She said,

You do not give him a fair chance.

He cannot use all his power with his head held back,

As it with that check rein.

If you would take it off,

I'm sure he would do better.

Do try it.

I should be very glad if you would.

Well,

Well,

Said Jake's with a short laugh.

Anything to please a lady,

Of course.

How far down do you wish it,

Ma'am?

Quite down.

Give him his head altogether.

The rein was taken off,

And in a moment I put my head down to my very knees.

What a comfort it was.

Then I tossed it up and down several times to get the aching stiffness out of my neck.

Poor fellow.

That is what you wanted,

Said she,

Patting and stroking me with her gentle hand.

And now if you will speak kindly to him,

And lead him on,

I believe he'll be able to do better.

Jake's took the rein.

Come on,

Blackie.

I put down my head and threw my whole weight against the collar.

I spared no strength.

The load moved on,

And I pulled it steadily up the hill,

And then stopped to take a breath.

The lady had walked along the footpath and now came across into the road.

She stroked and patted my neck,

As I had not been patted for many a long day.

You see,

He was quite willing when you gave him the chance.

I am sure he is a fine-tempered creature,

And I dare say has known better days.

You won't put that rein on again,

Will you?

For he was just going to hitch it up on the old plan.

Well,

Ma'am,

I can't deny that having his head has helped him up the hill,

And I'll remember it another time.

And thank you,

Ma'am.

But if he went without a rein check,

I should be the laughing stock of all the Carters.

It is the fashion,

You see.

Is it not better,

Said she,

To lead a good old fashion than to follow a bad one?

A great many gentlemen do not use check reins now.

Our carriage horses have not worn them for fifteen years and work with much less fatigue than those who have them.

Besides,

She added in a very serious voice,

We have no right to distress any of God's creatures without a very good reason.

We call them dumb animals,

And so they are,

For they cannot tell us how they feel.

But they do not suffer less because they have no words.

But I must not detain you now.

I thank you for trying my plan with your good horse,

And I am sure you will find it far better than the whip.

Good day.

And with another soft pat on the neck,

She stepped lightly across the path,

And I saw her no more.

That was a real lady.

I'll be bound for it,

Said Jakes to himself.

She spoke just as polite as if I was a gentleman,

And I'll try her plan,

Uphill at any rate.

And I must do him the justice to say that he let my rein out several holes,

And going uphill after that,

He always gave me my head.

But the heavy loads went on.

Good feed and fair rest will keep up one's strength under full work,

But no horse can stand against overloading.

So I was getting so thoroughly pulled down from this cause that a younger horse was bought in my place.

I may as well mention here what I suffered at this time from another cause.

I had heard horses speak of it,

But had never myself had experience of the evil.

This was a badly lit stable.

There was only one very small window at the end,

And the consequence was that the stalls were almost dark.

Besides the depressing effect this had on my spirits,

It very much weakened my sight,

And when I was suddenly brought out of the darkness into the glare of daylight,

It was very painful to my eyes.

Several times I stumbled over the threshold and could scarcely see where I was going.

I believe,

Had I stayed there very long,

I should have become purblind,

And that would have been a great misfortune,

For I've heard men say that a stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one that had imperfect sight,

As it generally makes them very timid.

However,

I escaped without any permanent injury to my sight,

And was sold to a large cab owner.

Chapter 47.

Hard Times My new master I shall never forget.

He had black eyes and a hooked nose.

His mouth was as full as teeth as a bulldog's,

And his voice was as harsh as the grinding of cartwheels over graveled stones.

His name was Nicholas Skinner,

And I believe he was the man that poor Seedy Sam drove for.

I have heard men say that seeing is believing,

But I should say that feeling is believing,

For much as I have seen before,

I never knew now the utter misery of a cab horse life.

Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of drivers.

He was hard on the men,

And the men were hard on the horses.

In this place we had no Sunday rest,

And it was in the heat of summer.

Sometimes on a Sunday morning,

A party of fast men would hire the cab for the day,

Four of them inside and another with the driver,

And I had to take them ten or fifteen miles out into the country and back again.

Never would any of them get down to walk up a hill,

Let it be ever so steep,

Or the day ever so hot,

Unless indeed when the driver was afraid I should not manage it,

And sometimes I was so fevered and worn out I could hardly touch my food.

How I used to long for the nice bran mash that Jerry used to give us on Saturday nights in hot weather,

That used to cool us down and make us so comfortable.

Then we had two nights and a whole day for unbroken rest,

And on Monday morning we were as fresh as young horses again.

But there was no rest here,

And my driver was just as hard as his master.

He had a cruel whip with something so sharp at the end that it sometimes drew blood,

And he would even whip me under the belly and flip the lash out on my head.

Indignities like these took the heart out of me terribly,

But still I did my best and never hung back,

For as poor Ginger said,

It was no use.

Men are the strongest.

My life was utterly so wretched that I wished I might,

Like Ginger,

Just have an end to my misery.

I went on the stand at 8 in the morning and had done a good share of work when we had to take a fare to the railway.

A long train was just expected in,

So my driver pulled up at the back of some of the outside cabs to take the chance of a return fare.

It was a very heavy train,

And as all the cabs were soon engaged,

Ours was called for.

There was a party of four,

A noisy,

Blustering man with a lady,

A little boy,

And a young girl,

And a great deal of luggage.

The lady and the boy got into the cab,

And while the man ordered about the luggage,

The young girl came and looked at me.

Papa,

She said,

I am sure this poor horse cannot take us and all our luggage so far.

He is so very weak and worn up.

Do look at him.

Oh,

He's all right,

Miss,

Said the driver.

He's strong enough.

The porter,

Who was pulling out some heavy boxes,

Suggested to the gentleman,

As there was so much luggage,

Whether he would not take a second cab.

Can your horse do it or can't he?

Said the blustering man.

Oh,

He can do it all right,

Sir.

Send up the boxes,

Porter.

He can take more than that.

And he helped to haul up a big box so heavy that I could feel the springs go down.

Papa,

Papa,

Do take a second cab,

Said the young girl in a beseeching tone.

I am sure we are wrong.

I am sure it is very cruel.

Nonsense,

Grace,

Get in at once,

And don't make all this fuss.

A pretty thing it would be if a man of business had to examine every cab horse before he hired it.

The man knows his own business,

Of course.

There,

Get in and hold your tongue.

My gentle friend had to obey,

And box after box was dragged up and lodged at the top of the cab or settled by the side of the driver.

At last all was ready,

And with his usual jerk at the rein and slash of the whip,

He drove out of the station.

The load was very heavy,

And I had had neither food nor rest since morning,

But I did my best,

As I always had done,

In spite of cruelty and injustice.

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill,

But there the heavy load and my own exhaustion were too much.

I was struggling to keep on,

Goaded by constant chucks of the rein and the use of the whip,

When in a single moment,

I cannot tell how,

My feet slipped from under me,

And I fell heavily to the ground on my side.

The suddenness and the force from which I fell seemed to beat all the breath out of me.

I lay perfectly still indeed.

I had no power to move,

And thought now I was going to die.

I heard a sort of confusion round me,

Loud angry voices,

And the getting down of the luggage,

But it was all like a dream.

I thought I heard that sweet pitiful voice saying,

Oh that poor horse,

It is all our fault.

Someone came and loosened the throat strap off the bridle,

And undid the traces which kept the collar so tight upon me.

Someone said,

He's dead,

He'll never get up again.

Then I could hear a policeman giving orders,

But I did not even open my eyes.

I could only draw a gasping breath now and then.

Some cold water was thrown over my head,

And some cordial was poured into my mouth,

And something was covered over me.

I cannot tell how long I lay there,

But I found my life coming back,

And a kind-voiced man was patting me and encouraging me to rise.

After some more cordial had been given me,

And after one or two attempts,

I staggered to my feet,

And was gently led to some stables which were close by.

Here I was put into a well-littered stall,

And some warm gruel was brought to me,

Which I drank thankfully.

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be led back to Skinner's stables,

Where I think they did the best for me they could.

In the morning Skinner came with a farrier to look at me.

He examined me very closely and said,

This is a case of overwork more than disease,

And if you could give him a run-off for six months he would be able to work again,

But now there is not an ounce of strength left in him.

Then he must just go to the dog,

Said Skinner.

I have no meadows to nurse sick horses in.

He might get well or he might not.

That sort of thing don't suit my business.

My plan is to work him as long as they'll go,

And then sell him for what they'll fetch at the knackers or elsewhere.

If he was broken-winded,

Said the farrier,

You had better have him killed out of the hand,

But he's not.

There is a sale of horses coming off in about ten days.

If you rest him and feed him up,

He may pick up,

And you may get more than his skin is worth at any rate.

Upon this advice Skinner,

Rather unwillingly,

I think,

Gave orders that I should be well-fed and cared for,

And the stableman,

Happily for me,

Carried out the orders with a much better will than his master had given them.

Ten days of perfect rest,

Plenty of good oats,

Hay,

Bran mashes with boiled linseed mixed in them,

Did more to get up my condition than anything else could have done.

Those linseed mashes were delicious,

And I began to think,

After all,

It might be better to live than go to the dogs.

When the twelfth day after the accident came,

I was taken to this sale,

A few miles out of London.

I felt that any change from my present place must be an improvement,

So I held up my head and hoped for the best.

Reviews

So sad— humans can be so terrible 😭 thank you ✨🙏🏼✨