cabs and horses, and lets them out. You look well off, and I am glad of
it, but I could not tell you what my life has been. When they found out
my weakness they said I was not worth what they gave for me, and that I
must go into one of the low cabs, and just be used up; that is what
they are doing, whipping and working with never one thought of what I
suffer--they paid for me, and must get it out of me, they say. The man
who hires me now pays a deal of money to the owner every day, and so he
has to get it out of me too; and so it's all the week round and round,
with never a Sunday rest.
I said, You used to stand up for yourself if you were ill-used.
Ah! she said, I did once, but it's no use; men are strongest, and if
they are cruel and have no feeling, there is nothing that we can do, but
just bear it--bear it on and on to the end. I wish the end was come,
I wish I was dead. I have seen dead horses, and I am sure they do not
suffer pain; I wish I may drop down dead at my work, and not be sent off
to the knackers.
I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up to hers, but I could say
nothing to comfort her. I think she was pleased to see me, for she said,
You are the only friend I ever had.
Just then her driver came up, and with a tug at her mouth backed her out
of the line and drove off, leaving me very sad indeed.
A short time after this a cart with a dead horse in it passed our
cab-stand. The head hung out of the cart-tail, the lifeless tongue was
slowly dropping with blood; and the sunken eyes! but I can't speak of
them, the sight was too dreadful. It was a chestnut horse with a long,
thin neck. I saw a white streak down the forehead. I believe it was
Ginger; I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over. Oh! if men
were more merciful they would shoot us before we came to such misery.
41 The Butcher
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