-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Анна Сьюэлл
-
- Чёрный красавец
-
- Стр. 55/106
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
Well
,
I
hardly
know
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
was
timid
when
I
was
young
,
and
was
a
good
deal
frightened
several
times
,
and
if
I
saw
anything
strange
I
used
to
turn
and
look
at
it
—
you
see
,
with
our
blinkers
one
can
’
t
see
or
understand
what
a
thing
is
unless
one
looks
round
—
and
then
my
master
always
gave
me
a
whipping
,
which
of
course
made
me
start
on
,
and
did
not
make
me
less
afraid
.
I
think
if
he
would
have
let
me
just
look
at
things
quietly
,
and
see
that
there
was
nothing
to
hurt
me
,
it
would
have
been
all
right
,
and
I
should
have
got
used
to
them
.
One
day
an
old
gentleman
was
riding
with
him
,
and
a
large
piece
of
white
paper
or
rag
blew
across
just
on
one
side
of
me
.
I
shied
and
started
forward
.
My
master
as
usual
whipped
me
smartly
,
but
the
old
man
cried
out
,
’
You
’
re
wrong
!
you
’
re
wrong
!
You
should
never
whip
a
horse
for
shying
;
he
shies
because
he
is
frightened
,
and
you
only
frighten
him
more
and
make
the
habit
worse
.
’
So
I
suppose
all
men
don
’
t
do
so
.
I
am
sure
I
don
’
t
want
to
shy
for
the
sake
of
it
;
but
how
should
one
know
what
is
dangerous
and
what
is
not
,
if
one
is
never
allowed
to
get
used
to
anything
?
I
am
never
afraid
of
what
I
know
.
Now
I
was
brought
up
in
a
park
where
there
were
deer
;
of
course
I
knew
them
as
well
as
I
did
a
sheep
or
a
cow
,
but
they
are
not
common
,
and
I
know
many
sensible
horses
who
are
frightened
at
them
,
and
who
kick
up
quite
a
shindy
before
they
will
pass
a
paddock
where
there
are
deer
”
I
knew
what
my
companion
said
was
true
,
and
I
wished
that
every
young
horse
had
as
good
masters
as
Farmer
Grey
and
Squire
Gordon
.
Of
course
we
sometimes
came
in
for
good
driving
here
.
I
remember
one
morning
I
was
put
into
the
light
gig
,
and
taken
to
a
house
in
Pulteney
Street
.
Two
gentlemen
came
out
;
the
taller
of
them
came
round
to
my
head
;
he
looked
at
the
bit
and
bridle
,
and
just
shifted
the
collar
with
his
hand
,
to
see
if
it
fitted
comfortably
.
“
Do
you
consider
this
horse
wants
a
curb
?
”
he
said
to
the
hostler
.
“
Well
,
”
said
the
man
,
“
I
should
say
he
would
go
just
as
well
without
;
he
has
an
uncommon
good
mouth
,
and
though
he
has
a
fine
spirit
he
has
no
vice
;
but
we
generally
find
people
like
the
curb
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
like
it
,
”
said
the
gentleman
;
“
be
so
good
as
to
take
it
off
,
and
put
the
rein
in
at
the
cheek
.
An
easy
mouth
is
a
great
thing
on
a
long
journey
,
is
it
not
,
old
fellow
?
”
he
said
,
patting
my
neck
.
Then
he
took
the
reins
,
and
they
both
got
up
.
I
can
remember
now
how
quietly
he
turned
me
round
,
and
then
with
a
light
feel
of
the
rein
,
and
drawing
the
whip
gently
across
my
back
,
we
were
off
.
I
arched
my
neck
and
set
off
at
my
best
pace
.
I
found
I
had
some
one
behind
me
who
knew
how
a
good
horse
ought
to
be
driven
.
It
seemed
like
old
times
again
,
and
made
me
feel
quite
gay
.
This
gentleman
took
a
great
liking
to
me
,
and
after
trying
me
several
times
with
the
saddle
he
prevailed
upon
my
master
to
sell
me
to
a
friend
of
his
,
who
wanted
a
safe
,
pleasant
horse
for
riding
.
And
so
it
came
to
pass
that
in
the
summer
I
was
sold
to
Mr
.
Barry
.