‘He has never laid a whip upon me,’ she would say with a proud toss of her head; ‘he has a heart far too kind for that sort of thing, and he knows I always do my best—and what horse can do more, I wonder.’
But to return to the lesson she gave me. I was ambling3 by her side when Mr. Bayne entered the field, and my mother, as she usually did, ran up to him to be caressed4 and fed with some trifling5 luxury, such as a slice of carrot or bit of sugar. I kept by her side until we reached him; then I, purely6 from 2playfulness, turned and kicked at him, lightly—you know—not by any means in a way to hurt him, I assure you.
‘Woa there,’ shouted Mr. Bayne; ‘vicious are you, my youngster? the mother’s blood don’t seem to run in you.’
He said nothing more, but having fed and stroked my mother, he went out of the field, and left us together. Then I received the lesson to which I have alluded7.
‘How very wrong of you,’ she said, ‘to kick at so good and kind a master.’
‘It was only in play,’ I replied, hanging my head and feeling rather foolish.
‘I know it was so,’ she returned, ‘but it was wrong of you nevertheless. Some men are so stupid that they do not know play from vice8, in a horse, and only few of them seem really to understand us. They often reprove us when we endeavour to do right, and you will be beaten if you do not curb9 your propensity10 to play.’
‘Were you ever beaten?’ I asked.
‘Once I had a very cruel master,’ said my mother with a sigh; ‘but I do not care to talk about it. If ever it should be your lot to find such a man you will know enough about it then.’
‘But why did you endure it?’ I asked; ‘are you not stronger than man? Why did you not kick?’
‘My child,’ said my mother impressively, ‘do not talk so idly: we are created the lawful11 servants of man, and it is our duty to submit. If he is kind we repay him tenfold; if he is cruel we must do our duty still, and the sin of cruelty be upon his head. Besides we are in his power—he has so many things at his command, and if we disobey him he can put us to great pain. You will learn that when you come to be broken.’
‘What is that?’ I inquired.
‘Your training so that you may be useful to man,’ returned my mother; ‘you will have to do your work one day with the rest of us.’
There was a pause after this, and my mother cropped the sweet grass while I meditated12. My curiosity was aroused with regard to this creature who ruled over us, and I soon renewed the subject.
3‘Tell me more about our master, man,’ I said; ‘I am very anxious to learn something about him.’
‘He is a strange creature,’ said my mother—‘as much a puzzle to himself as to the rest of the created world. He is very clever in some things and very stupid in others; for instance, he knows nothing of our language, although we understand his perfectly13. If Giles—that is Mr. Bayne’s foreman—bids me go here or there, I understand him without rein14 or whip; and yet when he was ploughing in the ten-acre field, and I pulling up told him as plain as I could that we were near a piece of hollow ground, he would not understand me, but made me go on—and then the ground gave way and we were almost buried alive.’
‘How did you know it was hollow?’ said I.
‘By the sound,’ said my mother; ‘I don’t think they ever found out what the hollow was—but there it was, as the uneven15 ground will testify. Giles afterwards did me the credit to tell his master that I had pulled up, and my doing so was considered to be remarkably16 clever, but I thought nothing of it.’
‘Giles must be very, very stupid,’ I remarked.
‘Not more than most men,’ said my mother; ‘but they are very clever at some things—they build houses, make carts and harness; but still they are inferior to us in many things. Now there is Mr. Martin’s Boxer17, who is very clever indeed; you know Mr. Martin?’
‘The farmer who drinks so?’ I said.
‘That’s the man,’ rejoined my mother. ‘He goes every Saturday to market, and returns home in a state of helpless intoxication18; he doesn’t know the way home a bit, but Boxer brings him safely to the door, along the dark roads, and through the narrow lanes, much better than any man could do, and yet that fellow Martin—I cannot call him anything less—very often beats Boxer most cruelly.’
‘I am sure he ought to be kicked,’ I said indignantly.
‘Duty forbids, my dear child,’ replied my mother; ‘a proper-minded horse never kicks one who is appointed to be his master; but some kick and bite too; many of these are naturally bad, but I am certain that most of them are made bad 4through ignorant and cruel training. But even that is no excuse; if man forgets his duty to the horse, the horse never ought to forget his duty to man: remember this, my child, act up to it, and you won’t regret it in your old age.’
I promised to remember, and although I was young and therefore rather thoughtless, I really took this lesson to heart, and found it of excellent service to me throughout my varied19 life.
It is not my intention to dwell upon my early days, but I must say a few words more about the paddock—the dear old paddock where I first breathed the pure air. Ah! I can see it now, and would that I was there. I can see the narrow peaceful stream gliding20 away from the water-mill, as if in calm satisfaction of having at least for the time performed its duty. I hear the murmur21 of the wheel as it turns and turns, now in the shadow, now in the sunlight; and the lark22’s song is in my ear again, and I smell the sweet-scented clover in the field, and the mignonette growing by the cotter’s garden gate; and I see the sloping roof of the old farm-house peeping out from the ivy23 clinging lovingly to its walls. Oh, home of the spring-time of my life, it is all before my mind. But these eyes of mine shall never see thee more, nor shall my ears be charmed again with the hum of the bee, the song of the lark, or the murmur of the water-wheel. It is all over now. But let me not anticipate, or waste time in useless regrets, for I have a long story before me and but a short time to tell it in.
To resume. When I was about five months old, another mare and foal were put into the paddock. The mare was an old acquaintance of my mother, and the two were soon gossiping together; but the foal was of course a stranger to me. He informed me that his name was Rip, and I told him—what I might have told my readers before—that Mr. Bayne had named me Blossom. This introductory business over, we became excellent friends, and capered24 about the paddock in fine style. Rip was a better looking foal than I was—he was better bred, and had I believe something of the race-horse in him; he told me that his great-grandfather, on his mother’s side, had nearly won a big race once, and this Rip seemed to be very proud of. I felt sorry for him on account of this 5weakness—it was so much like a man to be proud of such a ridiculous thing.
Rip told me a deal of news which he seemed to have picked up from a number of horses in farmer Martin’s meadow, where he had been with his mother. He knew Boxer, and spoke25 highly of him as a long suffering and much-enduring horse; but he said that Boxer was getting tired of doing all he could for the farmer at night and getting beaten in the morning.
‘I should not be surprised,’ said Rip in a whisper, ‘if he upsets the farmer in the pond by the “Wheatsheaf,” and leaves him there.’
A few weeks before I should have expressed my approval of this; but my mother’s lesson had borne fruit, and I earnestly hoped that Boxer would not so forget himself. Rip, however, favoured the idea of the pond trick, and said that if Boxer did not carry out his threat he should think he was but a poor, mean-spirited thing. In all this I detected, as my readers have doubtless done, the racing26 blood of Rip’s great-grandfather on his mother’s side.
Those were very happy days in the old paddock. Rip and I enjoyed ourselves amazingly, even when we were left alone, which occasionally happened if our mothers were put into the waggon27; but sometimes Giles fetched them for the plough, and then we youngsters went with our mothers and saw the earth ripped up by the terrible implement28 and smelt29 the fresh soil as it was turned over into the sunlight. I was always of a sober and reflective turn, and never lost the chance of ruminating30 upon anything which came under my notice; but Rip was rather giddy—I am afraid I ought to say thoughtless too—and gave his mother a deal of anxiety and trouble. I have heard the poor creature declare a hundred times that he would be the death of her; but Rip always laughed at such declarations, and said that he would grow better some day.
‘If we don’t have some fun now,’ he would say, ‘we never shall. It is all very well for those old fogies to talk, but they were not always so sober as they are now, I give you my word.’
I could not help laughing at Rip, he was so very droll31; but 6I really feared that he was getting into a bad way, and it seemed such a pity, for Rip grew handsomer and handsomer every day, while I, although improving, was but a poor plain animal at the best.
‘Rip will have a gentleman for a master,’ I heard Mr. Bayne say one day to Giles.
‘And who will have Blossom, sir?’ asked Giles.
‘I think Mr. Crawshay will have him,’ replied Mr. Bayne, and all that night I wondered what Mr. Crawshay was like, and whether he was as good, or better, or worse than a gentleman. Rip pretended to know him, and told me that he often drove his horses to death; but Rip frequently said idle things when he was in a joking mood, and I did not mind him.
We passed the winter in the farm belonging to Mr. Bayne, and during the long evenings my mother prepared me for the life which was now not far ahead. She told me to be tractable32 when the horse-breaker took me in hand, and I should escape a deal of punishment and pain. She also prepared me for our parting, and told me that when it came we should probably lose sight of each other for ever. The example of her fortitude33 gave me strength, and for her sake I did my best to conceal34 the pain the prospect35 of parting gave me. As for Rip, he seemed to trouble his mind very little about it, but looked forward to the new life as something to rejoice over.
One day in the spring the parting came. A tall, strong man, clad in velveteen, made his appearance on the farm, and Rip and I were sent with him to the paddock to be ‘broken in.’
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1
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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ambling
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的现在分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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14
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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15
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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17
boxer
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| n.制箱者，拳击手 | |
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18
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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19
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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28
implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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29
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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31
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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32
tractable
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| adj.易驾驭的；温顺的 | |
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33
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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34
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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