Black Beauty

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Анна Сьюэлл. Black Beauty

Part I

01 My Early Home

02 The Hunt

03 My Breaking In

04 Birtwick Park

05 A Fair Start

06 Liberty

07 Ginger

08 Ginger’s Story Continued

09 Merrylegs

10 A Talk in the Orchard

11 Plain Speaking

12 A Stormy Day

13 The Devil’s Trade Mark

14 James Howard

15 The Old Hostler

16 The Fire

17 John Manly’s Talk

18 Going for the Doctor

19 Only Ignorance

20 Joe Green

21 The Parting

Part II

22 Earlshall

23 A Strike for Liberty

24 The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse

25 Reuben Smith

26 How it Ended

27 Ruined and Going Downhill

28 A Job Horse and His Drivers

29 Cockneys

30 A Thief

31 A Humbug

Part III

32 A Horse Fair

33 A London Cab Horse

34 An Old War Horse

35 Jerry Barker

36 The Sunday Cab

37 The Golden Rule

38 Dolly and a Real Gentleman

39 Seedy Sam

40 Poor Ginger

41 The Butcher

42 The Election

43 A Friend in Need

44 Old Captain and His Successor

45 Jerry’s New Year

Part IV

46 Jakes and the Lady

47 Hard Times

48 Farmer Thoroughgood and His Grandson Willie

49 My Last Home

Отрывок из книги

The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master’s house, which stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank.

While I was young I lived upon my mother’s milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold we had a nice warm shed near the grove.

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“There was one—the old master, Mr. Ryder—who, I think, could soon have brought me round, and could have done anything with me; but he had given up all the hard part of the trade to his son and to another experienced man, and he only came at times to oversee. His son was a strong, tall, bold man; they called him Samson, and he used to boast that he had 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, a hard eye, a hard hand; and I felt from the first that what he wanted was to wear all the spirit out of me, and just make me into a quiet, humble, obedient piece of horseflesh. ‘Horseflesh’! Yes, that is all that he thought about,” and Ginger stamped her foot as if the very thought of him made her angry. Then she went on:

“If I did not do exactly what he wanted he would get put out, and make me run round with that long rein in the training field till he had tired me out. I think he drank a good deal, and I am quite sure that the oftener he drank the worse it was for me. One day he had worked me hard in every way he could, and when I lay down I was tired, and miserable, and angry; it all seemed so hard. The next morning he came for me early, and ran me round again for a long time. I had scarcely had an hour’s rest, when he came again for me with a saddle and bridle and a new kind of bit. I could never quite tell how it came about; he had only just mounted me on the training ground, when something I did put him out of temper, and he chucked me hard with the rein. The new bit was very painful, and I reared up suddenly, which angered him still more, and he began to flog me. I felt my whole spirit set against him, and I began to kick, and plunge, and rear as I had never done before, and we had a regular fight; for a long time he stuck to the saddle and punished me cruelly with his whip and spurs, but my blood was thoroughly up, and I cared for nothing he could do if only I could get him off. At last after a terrible struggle I threw him off backward. I heard him fall heavily on the turf, and without looking behind me, I galloped off to the other end of the field; 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 flies swarmed round me and settled on my bleeding flanks where the spurs had dug in. I felt hungry, for I had not eaten since the early morning, but there was not enough grass in that meadow for a goose to live on. I wanted to lie down and rest, but with the saddle strapped tightly on there was no comfort, and there was not a drop of water to drink. The afternoon wore on, and the sun got low. I saw the other colts led in, and I knew they were having a good feed.

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