Is he gentle, father?
Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; come and pat him.
At once the little hand was patting about all over my shoulder without
fear. How good it felt!
Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him down, said the mother.
Do, Polly, it's just what he wants; and I know you've got a beautiful
mash ready for me.
Sausage dumpling and apple turnover! shouted the boy, which set them
all laughing. I was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall, with
plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper I lay down, thinking I
was going to be happy.
33 A London Cab Horse
Jeremiah Barker was my new master's name, but as every one called him
Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his wife, was just as good a match as
a man could have. She was a plump, trim, tidy little woman, with smooth,
dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry little mouth. The boy was twelve years
old, a tall, frank, good-tempered lad; and little Dorothy (Dolly they
called her) was her mother over again, at eight years old. They were all
wonderfully fond of each other; I never knew such a happy, merry family
before or since. Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which he
drove and attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, white, rather
large-boned animal called Captain . He was old now, but when he was
young he must have been splendid; he had still a proud way of
holding his head and arching his neck; in fact, he was a high-bred,
fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch of him. He told me that in
his early youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged to an officer
in the cavalry, and used to lead the regiment. I will tell more of that
hereafter.
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