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Audiobook - Anna Sewell - Black Beauty - Chapter 01
Poziom:
Temat: Książki
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell
CHAPTER 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.
