AN EXCERPT FROM BLACK BEAUTY

The first place that I can remember well 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 ploughed 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.

When 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.

As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my mother used to go out to work in the daytime and come back in the evening. There were six young calves in the meadow besides me. They were older than I was; some were nearly as large as the grown-ups. I used to run with the, and had great fun. We used to gallop all together round the field as hard as we could go.

Sometimes we had rather rough play because they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop. One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, my mother whinnied to me to come to her and then said, ‘I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. You have been well bred and well born. Your father has a great name in these areas, and your grandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races. Your grandmother had the sweetest temper of anyone I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good and never learn bad ways. Do your work with good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick, even in play.’

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice. I knew she was wise and our master thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, but he often called her Pet. Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words. He spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We were all fond of him, and my mother loved him very much. When she saw him at the gate, she would neigh with joy and trot up to him. He would pat and stroke her and say, ‘Well, Old Pet, and how is your little Darkie?’ I was a dull black, so he called me Darkie. Then he would give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought a carrot for my mother.