BLACK BEAUTY The Autobiography of a Horse Anna Sewell

ISBN:

Published:

Nook

0 pages


Description

BLACK BEAUTY The Autobiography of a Horse  by  Anna Sewell

BLACK BEAUTY The Autobiography of a Horse by Anna Sewell
| Nook | PDF, EPUB, FB2, DjVu, AUDIO, mp3, RTF | 0 pages | ISBN: | 3.74 Mb

01 My Early HomeThe first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadowwith a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, andrushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one sidewe looked into a plowedMore01 My Early HomeThe first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadowwith a pond of clear water in it.

Some shady trees leaned over it, andrushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one sidewe looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gateat our masters house, which stood by the roadside- at the top of themeadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brookoverhung by a steep bank.While I was young I lived upon my mothers milk, as I could not eatgrass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night I lay down closeby her.

When it was hot we used to stand by the pond in the shade of thetrees, 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 towork in the daytime, and come back in the evening.There were six young colts in the meadow besides me- they were olderthan I was- some were nearly as large as grown-up horses.

I used to runwith them, and had great fun- we used to gallop all together round andround the field as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had rather roughplay, for they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop.One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, my mother whinnied to meto come to her, and then she said:I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. The coltswho live here are very good colts, but they are cart-horse colts, andof course they have not learned manners. You have been well-bredand well-born- your father has a great name in these parts, andyour grandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races- yourgrandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew, and Ithink you have never seen me kick or bite.

I hope you will grow upgentle and good, and never learn bad ways- do your work with a goodwill, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick evenin play.I have never forgotten my mothers advice- I knew she was a wise oldhorse, 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, andkind 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 sawhim at the gate she would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He wouldpat and stroke her and say, Well, old Pet, and how is your littleDarkie? I was a dull black, so he called me Darkie- then he would giveme a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought acarrot for my mother. All the horses would come to him, but I think wewere his favorites.

My mother always took him to the town on a marketday in a light gig.There was a plowboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field to pluckblackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted he wouldhave what he called fun with the colts, throwing stones and sticks atthem to make them gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could gallopoff- but sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us.One day he was at this game, and did not know that the master was in thenext field- but he was there, watching what was going on- over the hedgehe jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm, he gave him such abox on the ear as made him roar with the pain and surprise.

As soon aswe saw the master we trotted up nearer to see what went on.Bad boy! he said, bad boy! to chase the colts. This is not the firsttime, nor the second, but it shall be the last. There--take your moneyand go home- I shall not want you on my farm again. So we never sawDick any more. Old Daniel, the man who looked after the horses, was justas gentle as our master, so we were well off.



Enter the sum





Related Archive Books



Related Books


Comments

Comments for "BLACK BEAUTY The Autobiography of a Horse":


nanoo.pl

©2013-2015 | DMCA | Contact us