One day in the spring the parting came. A tall, strong man, clad in velveteen, made his appearance on the farm, and Rip and I were sent with him to the paddock to be ‘broken in.’
CHAPTER II.
‘BROKEN.’
Resolved to be tractable, I yielded myself to the man in velveteen, and he put some leather straps over my head, and a piece of iron in my mouth, and then he got upon my back. His weight was very disagreeable to me, and seemed to destroy in a moment the sense of freedom which I had hitherto enjoyed. My first impulse was to kick out and try to throw him, but the warning I had received from my mother, with the addition of the iron in my mouth, checked me. Obeying the rider’s touch, I made the best of his weight, and ran to and fro in the field, turning when he pulled the reins, which he did unnecessarily hard; and obeying even the pressure of his knees—in fact, acting in accordance with his wishes to the best of my ability.
In about half an hour Mr. Bayne came into the field, and the man in velveteen guided me up to him.
‘This will be a capital nag for a lady,’ he said; ‘a young lady learning to ride will be very glad of him.’
‘I have sold him to Mr. Crawshay,’ replied Mr. Bayne, ‘and they will use him both to ride and drive.’
‘Just the very hanimal,’ said the man, and then he got off my back and went to Rip, who all this time had remained fretting and fuming with his head tied to a gate. Mr. Bayne took charge of me, and the man in velveteen released Rip.
‘Woa there,’ he cried, as my friend gave a violent plunge; ‘steady there—will you? Here’s a horse of another colour. Quiet there!’