“He doesn't do it for my sake. If I were his own horse, he would work me as hard as he does you.”
“And I'm proud to be so worked. I wouldn't be as fat as you—not for all you're worth. You're a disgrace to the stable. Look at the horse next you. He's something like a horse—all skin and bone. And his master ain't over kind to him either. He put a stinging lash on his whip last week. But that old horse knows he's got the wife and children to keep—as well as his drunken master—and he works like a horse. I daresay he grudges his master the beer he drinks, but I don't believe he grudges anything else.”
“Well, I don't grudge yours what he gets by me,” said Ruby.
“Gets!” retorted Diamond. “What he gets isn't worth grudging. It comes to next to nothing—what with your fat and shine.
“Well, at least you ought to be thankful you're the better for it. You get a two hours' rest a day out of it.”
“I thank my master for that—not you, you lazy fellow! You go along like a buttock of beef upon castors—you do.”
“Ain't you afraid I'll kick, if you go on like that, Diamond?”
“Kick! You couldn't kick if you tried. You might heave your rump up half a foot, but for lashing out—oho! If you did, you'd be down on your belly before you could get your legs under you again. It's my belief, once out, they'd stick out for ever. Talk of kicking! Why don't you put one foot before the other now and then when you're in the cab? The abuse master gets for your sake is quite shameful. No decent horse would bring it on him. Depend upon it, Ruby, no cabman likes to be abused any more than his fare. But his fares, at least when you are between the shafts, are very much to be excused. Indeed they are.”
“Well, you see, Diamond, I don't want to go lame again.”
“I don't believe you were so very lame after all—there!”