Black Beauty The autobiography of a horse
a side street, or the policeman interferes; you have to be ready for
any chance--to dash forward if there be an opening, and be quick as a
rat-dog to see if there be room and if there be time, lest you get your
own wheels locked or smashed, or the shaft of some other vehicle run
into your chest or shoulder. All this is what you have to be ready for.
If you want to get through London fast in the middle of the day it wants
a deal of practice.
Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could beat us at getting through
when we were set upon it. I was quick and bold and could always trust
my driver; Jerry was quick and patient at the same time, and could trust
his horse, which was a great thing too. He very seldom used the whip; I
knew by his voice, and his click, click, when he wanted to get on fast,
and by the rein where I was to go; so there was no need for whipping;
but I must go back to my story.
The streets were very full that day, but we got on pretty well as far
as the bottom of Cheapside, where there was a block for three or four
minutes. The young man put his head out and said anxiously, “I think I
had better get out and walk; I shall never get there if this goes on.”
“I'll do all that can be done, sir,” said Jerry; “I think we shall be
in time. This block-up cannot last much longer, and your luggage is very
heavy for you to carry, sir.”
Just then the cart in front of us began to move on, and then we had a
good turn. In and out, in and out we went, as fast as horseflesh could
do it, and for a wonder had a good clear time on London Bridge, for
there was a whole train of cabs and carriages all going our way at a
quick trot, perhaps wanting to catch that very train. At any rate, we
whirled into the station with many more, just as the great clock pointed
to eight minutes to twelve o'clock.
“Thank God! we are in time,” said the young man, “and thank you, too, my
friend, and your good horse. You have saved me more than money can ever
pay for. Take this extra half-crown.”
“No, sir, no, thank you all the same; so glad we hit the time, sir;
but don't stay now, sir, the bell is ringing. Here, porter! take this
gentleman's luggage--Dover line twelve o'clock train--that's it,” and
without waiting for another word Jerry wheeled me round to make room for
other cabs that were dashing up at the last minute, and drew up on one
side till the crush was past.
“'So glad!' he said, 'so glad!' Poor young fellow! I wonder what it was
that made him so anxious!”
Jerry often talked to himself quite loud enough for me to hear when we
were not moving.
On Jerry's return to the rank there was a good deal of laughing and
chaffing at him for driving hard to the train for an extra fare, as they
said, all against his principles, and they wanted to know how much he
had pocketed.
“A good deal more than I generally get,” said he, nodding slyly; “what
he gave me will keep me in little comforts for several days.”
“Gammon!” said one.
“He's a humbug,” said another; “preaching to us and then doing the same
himself.”
“Look here, mates,” said Jerry; “the gentleman offered me half a crown
extra, but I didn't take it; 'twas quite pay enough for me to see how
glad he was to catch that train; and if Jack and I choose to have a
quick run now and then to please ourselves, that's our business and not
yours.”
“Well,” said Larry, “you'll never be a rich man.”
“Most likely not,” said Jerry; “but I don't know that I shall be the
less happy for that. I have heard the commandments read a great many
times and I never noticed that any of them said, 'Thou shalt be rich';
and there are a good many curious things said in the New Testament about
rich men that I think would make me feel rather queer if I was one of
them.”
“If you ever do get rich,” said Governor Gray, looking over his shoulder
across the top of his cab, “you'll deserve it, Jerry, and you won't find
a curse come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, you'll die poor; you
spend too much in whipcord.”
“Well,” said Larry, “what is a fellow to do if his horse won't go
without it?”
“You never take the trouble to see if he will go without it; your whip
is always going as if you had the St. Vitus' dance in your arm, and
if it does not wear you out it wears your horse out; you know you are
always changing your horses; and why? Because you never give them any
peace or encouragement.”
“Well, I have not had good luck,” said Larry, “that's where it is.”
“And you never will,” said the governor. “Good Luck is rather particular
who she rides with, and mostly prefers those who have got common sense
and a good heart; at least that is my experience.”
Governor Gray turned round again to his newspaper, and the other men
went to their cabs.
36 The Sunday Cab
One morning, as Jerry had just put me into the shafts and was fastening
the traces, a gentleman walked into the yard. “Your servant, sir,” said
Jerry.
“Good-morning, Mr. Barker,” said the gentleman. “I should be glad to
make some arrangements with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to
church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, and that is
rather further than she can walk.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jerry, “but I have only taken out a six-days'
license,* and therefore I could not take a fare on a Sunday; it would
not be legal.”
* A few years since the annual charge for a cab license was very much
reduced, and the difference between the six and seven days' cabs was
abolished.
“Oh!” said the other, “I did not know yours was a six-days' cab; but of
course it would be very easy to alter your license. I would see that you
did not lose by it; the fact is, Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to
drive her.”
“I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I had a seven-days'
license once, and the work was too hard for me, and too hard for my
horses. Year in and year out, not a day's rest, and never a Sunday with
my wife and children; and never able to go to a place of worship, which
I had always been used to do before I took to the driving box. So for
the last five years I have only taken a six-days' license, and I find it
better all the way round.”
“Well, of course,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is very proper that every
person should have rest, and be able to go to church on Sundays, but I
should have thought you would not have minded such a short distance for
the horse, and only once a day; you would have all the afternoon and
evening for yourself, and we are very good customers, you know.”
“Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for all favors, I am sure;
and anything that I could do to oblige you, or the lady, I should be
proud and happy to do; but I can't give up my Sundays, sir, indeed I
can't. I read that God made man, and he made horses and all the other
beasts, and as soon as He had made them He made a day of rest, and bade
that all should rest one day in seven; and I think, sir, He must have
known what was good for them, and I am sure it is good for me; I am
stronger and healthier altogether, now that I have a day of rest; the
horses are fresh too, and do not wear up nearly so fast. The six-day
drivers all tell me the same, and I have laid by more money in the
savings bank than ever I did before; and as for the wife and children,
sir, why, heart alive! they would not go back to the seven days for all
they could see.”
“Oh, very well,” said the gentleman. “Don't trouble yourself, Mr.
Barker, any further. I will inquire somewhere else,” and he walked away.
“Well,” says Jerry to me, “we can't help it, Jack, old boy; we must have
our Sundays.”
“Polly!” he shouted, “Polly! come here.”
She was there in a minute.
“What is it all about, Jerry?”
“Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take Mrs. Briggs to church every
Sunday morning. I say I have only a six-days' license. He says, 'Get a
seven-days' license, and I'll make it worth your while;' and you know,
Polly, they are very good customers to us. Mrs. Briggs often goes out
shopping for hours, or making calls, and then she pays down fair and
honorable like a lady; there's no beating down or making three hours
into two hours and a half, as some folks do; and it is easy work for
the horses; not like tearing along to catch trains for people that are
always a quarter of an hour too late; and if I don't oblige her in this
matter it is very likely we shall lose them altogether. What do you say,
little woman?”
“I say, Jerry,” says she, speaking very slowly, “I say, if Mrs. Briggs
would give you a sovereign every Sunday morning, I would not have you a
seven-days' cabman again. We have known what it was to have no Sundays,
and now we know what it is to call them our own. Thank God, you earn
enough to keep us, though it is sometimes close work to pay for all the
oats and hay, the license, and the rent besides; but Harry will soon be
earning something, and I would rather struggle on harder than we do than
go back to those horrid times when you hardly had a minute to look at
your own children, and we never could go to a place of worship together,
or have a happy, quiet day. God forbid that we should ever turn back to
those times; that's what I say, Jerry.”
“And that is just what I told Mr. Briggs, my dear,” said Jerry, “and
what I mean to stick to. So don't go and fret yourself, Polly” (for she
had begun to cry); “I would not go back to the old times if I earned
twice as much, so that is settled, little woman. Now, cheer up, and I'll
be off to the stand.”
Three weeks had passed away after this conversation, and no order had
come from Mrs. Briggs; so there was nothing but taking jobs from the
stand. Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for of course the work was
harder for horse and man. But Polly would always cheer him up, and say,
“Never mind, father, never, mind.
“'Do your best,
And leave the rest,
'Twill all come right
Some day or night.'”
It soon became known that Jerry had lost his best customer, and for what
reason. Most of the men said he was a fool, but two or three took his
part.
“If workingmen don't stick to their Sunday,” said Truman, “they'll soon
have none left; it is every man's right and every beast's right. By
God's law we have a day of rest, and by the law of England we have a day
of rest; and I say we ought to hold to the rights these laws give us and
keep them for our children.”
“All very well for you religious chaps to talk so,” said Larry; “but
I'll turn a shilling when I can. I don't believe in religion, for I
don't see that your religious people are any better than the rest.”
“If they are not better,” put in Jerry, “it is because they are not
religious. You might as well say that our country's laws are not good
because some people break them. If a man gives way to his temper, and
speaks evil of his neighbor, and does not pay his debts, he is not
religious, I don't care how much he goes to church. If some men are
shams and humbugs, that does not make religion untrue. Real religion is
the best and truest thing in the world, and the only thing that can make
a man really happy or make the world we live in any better.”
“If religion was good for anything,” said Jones, “it would prevent your
religious people from making us work on Sundays, as you know many of
them do, and that's why I say religion is nothing but a sham; why, if it
was not for the church and chapel-goers it would be hardly worth while
our coming out on a Sunday. But they have their privileges, as they call
them, and I go without. I shall expect them to answer for my soul, if I
can't get a chance of saving it.”
Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry said:
“That may sound well enough, but it won't do; every man must look
after his own soul; you can't lay it down at another man's door like a