Black Beauty Audiogramme

wild with fright rushed by and made for the woods on came the dogs they burst over the bank left the stream and came dashing across the field followed by the Huntsman

six or eight men leaped their horses clean over close up on the dogs.

the hair tried to get through the fence

it was too thick and she turned sharp round to make for the road.

But it was too late.

the dogs were upon her with their wild cries and

that was the end of her.

I was so astonished that I did not at first see what was going on by the brook.

but when I did look

there was a sad side.

Two fine horses were down one was struggling in the Stream and the other was groaning on the grass.

One of the riders was getting out of the water covered with mud.

the other

they quite still.

His neck is broken.

Said my mother.

There and serve him right, too.

Said one of the cults.

Well, no, she said you must not say that but I never yet could make out why men are so fond of this sport.

They often heard themselves often spoil good horses and tear up the fields and all for a hair or a fox or a stag.

but

we are only horses.

And don't know.

Many of the riders are gone to the young man, but my master who had been watching what was going on was the first to raise him.

Head fell back and his arms hung down and everyone looked very serious.

There was no noise now.

Even the dogs were quiet.

They carried him to our Master's house. I heard afterward that it was young George Gordon the Squires only son a fine tall young man and the Pride of his family.

When Mr Bond the Farrier came to look at the Black Horse groaning on the grass?

He shook his head.

One of his legs was broken.

Then someone ran to our Master's house and came back with a gun.

presently

there

was

a lying horse

Moved no more.

my mother seemed trouble she said she had known that horse for years and his name was Rob Roy

he was a good bold horse and there was no Vic in him.

She never would go to that part of the field afterwards.

I was now beginning to grow handsome.

My code had grown fine and soft and was bright black.

And I had one white foot and a pretty white star on my forehead.

I was thought very handsome.

When I was four years old Squire Gordon came to look at me.

He examined my eyes my mouth and my legs he felt them all down and then I had to walk and chart and gallop before him.

he said

when he has been well broken in he will do very well.

My master said he would break me in himself as he should not like me to be frightened or hurt and he lost no time about it.

For the next day.

he began

breaking means to teach a horse to wear a saddle and Bridle

and to carry on his back a man woman or child.

besides this

he has to learn to wear a collar.

A Crapper and a breaching and to stand still while they are put on.

Then to have a car to a chase fix behind.

He must never started what he sees nor speak to other horses nor bite not kick not have any will of his own.

But always do his master's.

Even though he may be very tired or hungry.

But worst of all.

When his harness is one son?

He met neither jump for joy.

Nor lie down for wearing us.

Those who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot think how bad it feels.

A great piece of cold hard steel as thick as a man's finger to be pushed into one's mouth but between one's teeth and over one's tongue with the ends coming out at the corner of your mouth.

And held fast their by straps over your head and your throat round your nose and under your chin.

it is very

bad

Yes, very bad.

At least I thought so.

The Saddle was not half so bad.

My master put it on my back very gently.

I had a few oats then a little leading about.

This he did every day to I Began to look for the oats and the saddle.

one morning

my master got on my back and rode me around the middle on the soft grass.

in certainly did feel queer

but I must say I felt rather proud to carry my master.

And actually continued to ride me a little every day.

I became a custom to it.

the next unpleasant business was putting on the iron shoes