The Sunday cab
I was very happy living and working with Jerry. He was a good man and he reminded me of John Manly at Birtwick Park. Nothing was too much trouble for him. My harness fitted perfectly and Jerry was a kind driver who hardly ever used the whip.
One of Jerry’s very good clients was a man called Mr Briggs. Early one morning, Mr Briggs came to see Jerry to ask if he could hire a cab every Sunday morning. He was offering good money but Jerry didn’t even think about it.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Briggs,’ he answered. ‘My horses work hard six days a week. Sunday is their day off and they need the rest.’
Mr Briggs offered Jerry a larger sum of money to change his mind. The money would have been useful but still Jerry said no.
‘Suit yourself,’ said Mr Briggs crossly, storming off.
When Jerry told Polly that he had turned the work down she was pleased. ‘Money isn’t everything,’ she said calmly. ‘I would much rather be broke than have you and the horses working seven days a week.’
Money was very tight after that because Mr Briggs stopped using Jerry altogether.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Polly. ‘It will all work out the end.’
And it did. Three weeks later, Polly ran out to meet us as Jerry and I came home from work. ‘Guess what?’ she said excitedly. ‘Mr Briggs sent us a message. He wants you to drive for him tomorrow. He’s tried lots of other cabbies but none of them were as good as you.’
Polly was so pleased she was panting, and Jerry laughed. ‘You said it would all work out in the end!’ he cried. ‘And now it has.’
One Sunday, Jerry broke his golden rule not to work. We had come home late on Saturday night and I was tired and looking forward to my day off.
Then Polly came running into the yard. ‘I need a favour ,’ she told Jerry, as he stood grooming me. ‘Poor Dinah Brown’s mother is dying. Dinah’s desperate to see her but it’s a long train journey followed by a walk from the station. You know Dinah’s just had a baby and she’s not been feeling well. She wants you to take her to visit her mother tomorrow. She’ll pay you the money as soon as she can get it. Please, Jerry, please will you help her?’
Jerry tutted. ‘It’s not the money, Polly,’ he said. ‘It’s the horses. They’re tired and so am I!’
‘Please!’ begged Polly. ‘I’d like to think that someone would help me if my mother was dying.’
‘All right then,’ said Jerry, smiling. ‘Tell Dinah I’ll do it.’
Jerry borrowed a lighter carriage from a friend, and I was chosen to pull it. I didn’t mind. It was a beautiful day and it was lovely to swap the city for the sweet country air.
Dinah’s family lived in a small farmhouse and offered me a stable in an empty cowshed, but Jerry thought I would like to be outside in their field. It was the first time I’d been loose since I’d left poor Ginger at Earlshall. At first I hardly knew what to do- with myself! Should I eat the grass, roll on my back, gallop as fast as I could or lie down and rest? In the end I did everything and it was the best time I’d had in ages.
‘Why Jack,’ laughed Jerry. ‘You’re behaving like a young colt!’
Jerry enjoyed himself too, and he picked a bunch of wild flowers to give to his daughter, Dolly. Happily we drove home, and when Dolly saw the flowers she was so pleased she ran around like I had in the meadow!