“I have always heard a frightened horse is worse than a vicious one,” I observed, hazarding the remark with a certain hesitation in presence of so high an authority.
“That’s right, sir,” answered Tips with a smile, born of gin-and-water and approval. “It’s a frightened horse that will face anything and go anywheres. He’s a mad horse for the time, that’s what he is. So long as you see your horse’s eye standing out wild and red, you know that he’s half out of his senses with excitement and likely to astonish you above a bit; but still he keeps the other half pretty cleverly, and though he might jump a brick wall, he won’t run his head against it. But when you see his eye turn blue, then look out! Nothing will stop him now, and he’ll go overhead into the deep sea as soon as look at it. You saw that gentleman as came in just now, and went out again, sudden—Mr. Naggett? A very nice gentleman he is, and quite the sportsman: dogs, greyhounds, fancy rabbits, and game-fowl, Mr. Naggett he likes to have a turn at them all, and a kind friend he’s been to me besides—we’ll drink his health, sir, if you please. Well, sir, Mr. Naggett owned a well-bred, raking-looking sort of mare about two years ago, that he was uncommon sweet upon, but somehow he never could do much good with her. Tried her hunting, but she was a sight too rash and violent for that; then he thought he’d make a hack of her; beautiful action she had, stepped away like a cat on hot bricks; but she was so unaccountable nervous, he couldn’t get her along the roads at all, if there was much traffic, on market-days and such-like. At last he comes to me in this very shop where we’re sitting now. ‘Tips,’ says he, ‘what’ll you have to drink? I have been thinking about Fancy-Girl,’ says he. You see we called her Fancy-Girl on account of her skittish ways. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to put her in harness.’ ‘Better not, master,’ says I: ‘them Fancy-Girls is bad enough without putting them in traces, a-purpose to kick over.’ ‘You’re a old woman,’ says he; ‘you send for her first thing to-morrow morning, and break her nicely for me, single and double harness, teach her to be generally useful, make tea, and wait at table if required.’ I didn’t like the job, but trade’s trade, and if your own brother’s a undertaker, why he can’t refuse to measure you for a coffin; so the mare came home, and we had her in the break alongside of a steady one afore the week was out.
“Well, sir, I took uncommon pains with ‘The Girl’ as we called her, uncommon to be sure! I drove her in double harness, and I drove her in single, and I was as gentle as a lady with her, and as quiet as a mouse. Somehow I knew she’d play me a trick afore we’d done, and I never let any one touch her but myself.
“One afternoon Mr. Naggett he comes up to my place and wants to see the Girl in harness, and to drive her himself. I told him it wouldn’t be safe, not yet, at no price; but Mr. Naggett he’d been a-drinking, for things had gone cross at home, and he wouldn’t be satisfied without a drive. Well, I got him set down to take a bit of dinner with me at my place (it’s a poor place, sir, for gentlemen like you, but you’re heartily welcome when you are passing that way), and he sent out for some brandy, and made himself quite comfortable. After he’d smoked a pipe or two, I tried to persuade him to go home. ‘Home!’ says he, ‘I ain’t going home for a fortnight! while Mrs. Naggett’s blowing off her steam, I’m a-getting mine up,’ says he; ‘and if I don’t have a jolly good spree this week and the next, I’m a Scotchman!’ says he, ‘and that’s all about it!’
“So we went into the stables, and had the Girl stripped; and at last, if it was only to content him, I was forced to put her into the trap, and take him out for a drive; but I got him to promise he wouldn’t lay a finger on the reins, ‘for,’ says I, ‘if anything should happen,’ says I, ‘without doubt Mrs. N. will cast it up to you, as you should have taken her advice and stayed at home.’ He’s not an obstinate gentleman, Mr. Naggett, and this convinced him at once.
“The Girl went kindly enough for the first half-mile, and I wanted to turn back and go home afore worse came of it; but Mr. Naggett says, ‘We’ll just go down to the Silver Bells at Willow-tree, take a pint of purl, and come back to tea; so, as it’s a good wide road and not much frequented, I put the whip in the bucket, and drove steadily on.
“Well, sir, as luck would have it, we hadn’t gone a mile, before we came to some chaps at the road-side, cutting down a tree. There isn’t many trees along that line, and I wished there was none, or else they’d leave them all standing. Them countrymen isn’t over cute, and though I got by as quick as ever I could, the tree fell with a crash close behind us. The Girl gave a jump, that I thought would have taken her clean out of her harness, and away she bolted like a frightened stag. Bless ye! I’d no more power over her than a baby. There was a hill to go down a few rods ahead. I says to Mr. Naggett, says I, ‘Hold on, master; when we get to the old Barn, the trap’ll run on to the Girl, and we’ll be kicked out, so look for a soft place!’ Mr. Naggett didn’t seem to care about arguing the point, but he swore awful.
“It soon came off, sir. The Girl wasn’t going to keep us waiting. A shy at a heap of stones took us off the road, and the next stride brought us into the fence. At the pace we were going, Mr. Naggett shot clean over my head into a wheat-field, and got up quite sober and none the worse, but he had to destroy the Girl; and as for me, why the trap, you see, unfortunately turned on to me, and I broke three ribs and my collar-bone, put out my wrist, lost two-and-seven-pence out of my breeches-pocket, and had a concussion of the brain. But it might have been worse! Here’s Mr. Naggett coming back to speak for himself, and I wish you good-evening, sir.”