Every Girl's Library, Volume 8 of 10: A Collection of Appropriate and Instructive Reading for Girls of All Ages from the Best Authors of All Time
General
Every Girl's Library, Volume 8 of 10: A Collection of Appropriate and Instructive Reading for Girls of All Ages from the Best Authors of All Time
Literature -- Collections
When we reached the railway station, I think mistress walked from the
carriage to the waiting-room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice,
"Good-bye, John. God bless you." I felt the rein twitch, but John made
no answer; perhaps he could not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the
things out of the carriage, John called him to stand by the horses,
while he went on the platform. Poor Joe! he stood close up to our heads
to hide his tears. Very soon the train came puffing up into the station;
then two or three minutes, and the doors were slammed to; the guard
whistled and the train glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of
white smoke and some very heavy hearts.
When it was quite out of sight, John came back.
"We shall never see her again," he said--"never." He took the reins,
mounted the box, and with Joe drove slowly home; but it was not our home
now.
The next morning after breakfast, Joe put Merrylegs into the mistress'
low chaise to take him to the vicarage; he came first and said good-bye
to us, and Merrylegs neighed to us from the yard. Then John put the
saddle on Ginger and the leading rein on me, and rode us across the
country about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, where the Earl of
W----lived. There was a very fine house and a great deal of stabling. We
went into the yard through a stone gateway and John asked for Mr. York.
It was some time before he came. He was a fine-looking, middle-aged man,
and his voice said at once that he expected to be obeyed. He was very
friendly and polite to John, and after giving us a slight look he called
a groom to take us to our boxes, and invited John to take some
refreshment.
We were taken to a light, airy stable, and placed in boxes adjoining
each other, where we were rubbed down and fed. In about half an hour
John and Mr. York, who was to be our new coachman, came in to see us.
"Now, Mr. Manly," he said, after carefully looking at us both, "I can
see no fault in these horses; but we all know that horses have their
peculiarities as well as men, and that sometimes they need different
treatment. I should like to know if there is anything particular in
either of these that you would like to mention."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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