Black Beauty Essay, Research Paper
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Black Beauty
by Anna Sewell [English Quaker -- 1820-1878.]
May, 1995 [Etext #271]
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Black Beauty
by Anna Sewell [English Quaker -- 1820-1878.]
[Note: `Black Beauty' was originally published in 1877.
This etext was transcribed from an American edition of 1911.
Some small corrections were made, after being confirmed
against other sources.]
Black Beauty
The Autobiography of a Horse
by Anna Sewell
To my dear and honored Mother,
whose life, no less than her pen,
has been devoted to the welfare of others,
this little book is affectionately dedicated.
Contents
Part I
Chapter
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
Black Beauty
Part I
01 My Early Home
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.
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 colts in the meadow besides me;
they were older than I was; some were nearly as large as grown-up horses.
I used to run with them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all together
round and round the field as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had
rather rough play, 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 me
to come to her, and then she said:
“I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you.
The colts who live here are very good colts, but they are cart-horse colts,
and of course they have not learned manners. You have been
well-bred and well-born; your father has a great name in these parts,
and your grandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races;
your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse 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 a 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 a wise old horse,
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. All the horses
would come to him, but I think we were his favorites.
My mother always took him to the town on a market day in a light gig.
There was a plowboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field
to pluck blackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted
he would have what he called fun with the colts, throwing stones and sticks
at them to make them gallop. We did not much mind him,
for we could gallop off; 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 the next field; but he was there, watching what was going on;
over the hedge he jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm,
he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar
with the pain and surprise. As soon as we 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 first time, nor the second, but it shall be the last. There –
take your money and go home; I shall not want you on my farm again.”
So we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, the man who looked after
the horses, was just as gentle as our master, so we were well off.
02 The Hunt
Before I was two years old a circumstance happened
which I have never forgotten. It was early in the spring;
there had been a little frost in the night, and a light mist