Rip underwent a second course of the saddle, and wisely gave in to the hand of his master; but the resistance of the day before had gone against him, and nobody seemed to place entire faith in his docility. I heard the man in the velveteen tell Mr. Bayne that Rip was a tricky youngster, and would require a tight hand to be kept over him for a year or two; so much for first impressions!
About a week after this I left the farm. My going was very sudden, and I had neither time nor opportunity to take leave of any of those I loved. A man came for me, and I learned that he was Mr. Crawshay’s groom. He put a saddle upon my back, and got into it with the easy confidence of a man who could trust the animal he was riding. My mother was away in a team which Giles was driving to some distant town, and Rip was in the hands of his trainer; so without a single word of adieu I turned my back upon the farm and left it behind me—for ever.
CHAPTER III.
MY NEW MASTER.
Of course I had been picturing to myself the style of home I was going to, and as might have been expected I found it quite opposite to the creation of my mind. I had portrayed to myself a house something like that upon the farm, but larger and grander, and surrounded by trees and flowers all carefully arranged, with a fine lawn in the centre; but instead of this I found that my new master lived in the heart of a large country town named Upton, and the ground around it, instead of being devoted to the cultivation of flowers, was sacrificed to the art of making beer. My new master was, in short, a brewer, and his house adjoined his place of business.
I am not going into the question of strong drink,—a little concerning that will be found further on; for the present I confine myself to my master and his family. Mr. Crawshay was a stout, florid man, with a loud voice which many people called genial—perhaps it was, sometimes—but I have heard that same voice address his wife and daughter in a tone anything but genial.
Personally I had no connection with the brewery, but was especially reserved for the use of Mrs. Crawshay and her daughter. Mrs. Crawshay was an invalid, and only went out in a waggonette, which I had the honour of drawing, and when not required in that capacity, Miss Crawshay put on her habit and used me for equestrian purposes. Both these ladies were kind to me—I liked them very much, and used to prick up my ears whenever I heard their voices. The young lady was especially fond of me, and often came to the stable to feed me with some nicety, an apple and so on, out of her delicate hand. Mrs. Crawshay being quite an invalid was unable to perform the same kindness, but I have heard her, at least fifty times, tell the servant, as I stood at the door, to bring me a biscuit; and whenever the morning drive was ended she was always very particular in her injunctions to the groom to take great care of me, and he being in that respect a very excellent fellow, certainly made me as comfortable as a horse could be.
I cannot tell how it was, I suppose it was instinct, but from the first moment I entered this service I felt sorry for my two mistresses. There was a quiet, patient look on their faces which I did not understand then, but which I thoroughly understand now—and Mr. Crawshay and his loud, genial voice had something to do with the look you may be sure.
I never was a great favourite with the brewer—he did not dislike me, but, he took no interest in me. Never once did he either ride or drive me, but he kept for his use a tall, conceited creature, who always turned up his nose at my quiet ways, and called me a ‘draught horse;’ and whenever we met, as we sometimes did with Mr. Crawshay on his back, he passed me as if he had never seen me before, although we spent our leisure time in the same stable.