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Our
master
had
two
other
horses
that
stood
in
another
stable
.
One
was
Justice
,
a
roan
cob
,
used
for
riding
or
for
the
luggage
cart
;
the
other
was
an
old
brown
hunter
,
named
Sir
Oliver
;
he
was
past
work
now
,
but
was
a
great
favorite
with
the
master
,
who
gave
him
the
run
of
the
park
;
he
sometimes
did
a
little
light
carting
on
the
estate
,
or
carried
one
of
the
young
ladies
when
they
rode
out
with
their
father
,
for
he
was
very
gentle
and
could
be
trusted
with
a
child
as
well
as
Merrylegs
The
cob
was
a
strong
,
well
-
made
,
good
-
tempered
horse
,
and
we
sometimes
had
a
little
chat
in
the
paddock
,
but
of
course
I
could
not
be
so
intimate
with
him
as
with
Ginger
,
who
stood
in
the
same
stable
.
I
was
quite
happy
in
my
new
place
,
and
if
there
was
one
thing
that
I
missed
it
must
not
be
thought
I
was
discontented
;
all
who
had
to
do
with
me
were
good
and
I
had
a
light
airy
stable
and
the
best
of
food
.
What
more
could
I
want
?
Why
,
liberty
!
For
three
years
and
a
half
of
my
life
I
had
had
all
the
liberty
I
could
wish
for
;
but
now
,
week
after
week
,
month
after
month
,
and
no
doubt
year
after
year
,
I
must
stand
up
in
a
stable
night
and
day
except
when
I
am
wanted
,
and
then
I
must
be
just
as
steady
and
quiet
as
any
old
horse
who
has
worked
twenty
years
.
Straps
here
and
straps
there
,
a
bit
in
my
mouth
,
and
blinkers
over
my
eyes
.
Now
,
I
am
not
complaining
,
for
I
know
it
must
be
so
.
I
only
mean
to
say
that
for
a
young
horse
full
of
strength
and
spirits
,
who
has
been
used
to
some
large
field
or
plain
where
he
can
fling
up
his
head
and
toss
up
his
tail
and
gallop
away
at
full
speed
,
then
round
and
back
again
with
a
snort
to
his
companions
—
I
say
it
is
hard
never
to
have
a
bit
more
liberty
to
do
as
you
like
.
Sometimes
,
when
I
have
had
less
exercise
than
usual
,
I
have
felt
so
full
of
life
and
spring
that
when
John
has
taken
me
out
to
exercise
I
really
could
not
keep
quiet
;
do
what
I
would
,
it
seemed
as
if
I
must
jump
,
or
dance
,
or
prance
,
and
many
a
good
shake
I
know
I
must
have
given
him
,
especially
at
the
first
;
but
he
was
always
good
and
patient
.
“
Steady
,
steady
,
my
boy
,
”
he
would
say
;
“
wait
a
bit
,
and
we
will
have
a
good
swing
,
and
soon
get
the
tickle
out
of
your
feet
”
Then
as
soon
as
we
were
out
of
the
village
,
he
would
give
me
a
few
miles
at
a
spanking
trot
,
and
then
bring
me
back
as
fresh
as
before
,
only
clear
of
the
fidgets
,
as
he
called
them
.
Spirited
horses
,
when
not
enough
exercised
,
are
often
called
skittish
,
when
it
is
only
play
;
and
some
grooms
will
punish
them
,
but
our
John
did
not
;
he
knew
it
was
only
high
spirits
.
Still
,
he
had
his
own
ways
of
making
me
understand
by
the
tone
of
his
voice
or
the
touch
of
the
rein
.
If
he
was
very
serious
and
quite
determined
,
I
always
knew
it
by
his
voice
,
and
that
had
more
power
with
me
than
anything
else
,
for
I
was
very
fond
of
him
.
I
ought
to
say
that
sometimes
we
had
our
liberty
for
a
few
hours
;
this
used
to
be
on
fine
Sundays
in
the
summer
-
time
.
The
carriage
never
went
out
on
Sundays
,
because
the
church
was
not
far
off
.
It
was
a
great
treat
to
us
to
be
turned
out
into
the
home
paddock
or
the
old
orchard
;
the
grass
was
so
cool
and
soft
to
our
feet
,
the
air
so
sweet
,
and
the
freedom
to
do
as
we
liked
was
so
pleasant
—
to
gallop
,
to
lie
down
,
and
roll
over
on
our
backs
,
or
to
nibble
the
sweet
grass
.
Then
it
was
a
very
good
time
for
talking
,
as
we
stood
together
under
the
shade
of
the
large
chestnut
tree
.
One
day
when
Ginger
and
I
were
standing
alone
in
the
shade
,
we
had
a
great
deal
of
talk
;
she
wanted
to
know
all
about
my
bringing
up
and
breaking
in
,
and
I
told
her
.
“
Well
,
”
said
she
,
“
if
I
had
had
your
bringing
up
I
might
have
had
as
good
a
temper
as
you
,
but
now
I
don
’
t
believe
I
ever
shall
.
”
“
Why
not
?
”
I
said
.
