While Mr York was in London, a man called Reuben Smith was left in charge of the stables. He was clever and he was excellent with horses. The only trouble was he had a drink problem.
One day, Reuben rode me into town. He left me at the White Lion inn, telling the ostler to have me ready at four sharp for the ride home.
Four o’clock came and went but there was no sign of Reuben. I waited patiently and it was nine o’clock before Reuben finally came to collect me. I could tell at once that something was wrong. Instead of the polite, gentle person I knew, Reuben was loud and pushy. It was clear that he had been drinking!
‘Did you know that your horse has a loose shoe?’ asked the ostler politely.
‘Tough! It can wait till we get home,’ snapped Reuben, leading me out of the stable.
Reuben rode like a mad thing, whipping me to make me go faster even though I was galloping flat out. My shoe grew looser and more uncomfortable and I wished I could stop. Then suddenly my shoe fell off. Reuben didn’t notice and forced me on over the stones. They split my poor hoof and it was so sore.
Bravely I kept galloping in spite of the terrible pain. But I couldn’t keep it up and suddenly I stumbled and fell on my knees. Reuben flew to the ground. He landed heavily, groaned once and then fell silent. I felt like groaning too but I managed to struggle up. My knees were in agony and I wished that Reuben would get up and take me home. He didn’t.
It wasn’t until around midnight that help finally came. I was so glad to hear a voice I knew, coming from close by.
‘Ginger!’I whinnied as my old friend came along pulling the dog cart.
Two men were riding in the cart and they were very glad to see me.
‘Thank goodness we’ve found them!’ said one, jumping down and running over.
‘Oh no!’ exclaimed the other. ‘Reuben’s dead! The horse must have thrown him. How terrible!’
I was angry and upset that I’d been blamed for Reuben’s death when it wasn’t my fault. I was suffering too. My knees were burning and I could hardly stand up. It was a horrible walk home and I’ll never forget it. Poor Reuben lay in the cart, cold as stone, while I painfully hobbled behind.
Back at the stable, my knees were cleaned and a hot poultice put on my foot to draw the heat out of it. I was in agony but at least the treatment helped. It also helped when everyone realized that Reuben had been drunk and the accident was his fault and not mine.
The next day, the farrier came to treat my knees and leg. The pain went on for many days, but once I started to get better I was put out to graze in a small meadow. It was good to have my freedom again although I missed the company of the other horses, especially my dear friend Ginger. So imagine my excitement when one day Ginger was led into the field.
Sadly, she was not there for a holiday. Lord George had ridden her too hard and ruined her health. Poor Ginger! She was never the same again and suffered terribly with her back and breathing.
‘Look at us!’ she said sadly. ‘Two young horses both ruined by our owners. Life is cruel.’
A few days later, life got even worse. Lord W and Mr York came to see me.
‘The black horse has to go,’ said Lord W. I don’t want a horse with scarred knees. He looks awful.’
Mr York knew a man who kept a livery stable in Bath, who said he would buy me.
‘Black Auster will be well treated there,’ he said.
And so it was! A week later I was on my way to Bath, and it all happened so suddenly that didn’t even have time to say goodbye to my dear friend Ginger!
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备注:负责;主管
in charge of
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in n charge of
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