he always spoke respectfully when

Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. York came with her and gave his orders, and then came to look at me. In a moment he let down my head. “Confound these check-reins!” he said to himself; “I thought we should have some mischief soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But there, if a woman’s husband can’t rule her of course a servant can’t; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can’t get to the duchess’ garden party I can’t help it.” York did not say this before the men; he always spoke respectfully when they were by. Now he felt me all over, and soon found the place above my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled and painful; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and then some lotion was put on. Lord W— was much put out when he learned what had happened; he blamed York for giving way to his mistress, to which he replied that in future he would much prefer to receive his orders only from his lordship; but I think nothing came of it, for things went on the same as before. I thought York might have stood up better for his horses, but perhaps I am no judge. Ginger was never put into the carriage again, but when she was well of her bruises one of the Lord W—’s younger sons said he should like to have her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called Max; he had always been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was he bore it. “Well,” he said, “I bear it because I must; but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too if you have to stick to it.” “Do you think,” I said, “that our masters know how bad it is for us?” “I can’t say,” he replied, “but the dealers and the horse-doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer’s once, who was training me and another horse to go as a pair; he was getting our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there asked him why he did so. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘people won’t buy them unless we do. The London people always want their horses to carry their heads high and to step high. Of course it is very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they come for another pair.’ That,” said Max, “is what he said in my hearing, and you can judge for yourself.”