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01 My Early Home First place that I can well remember, was large pleasant meadow with pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at deep end. Over hedge on one side we looked into ploughed field, and on other we looked over gate at our master's house, which stood by roadside; at top of meadow was plantation of fir trees, and at bottom running brook overhung by steep bank. Whilst I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could not eat grass. In day time I ran by her side, and at night I lay down close by her. When it was hot, we used to stand by pond in shade of trees, and when it was cold, we had nice warm shed near plantation. As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my mother used to go out to work in day time, and came back in evening. There were six young colts in meadow beside me, they were all older than I was; some were nearly as large as grown-up horses. I used to run with them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all together round and round field, as hard as we could go. Sometimes we had rather rough play, for they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop. One day, when there was good deal of kicking, my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then she said, "I wish you to pay attention to what I am going to say to you. Colts who live here are very good colts; but they are cart-horse colts, and of course, they have not learned manners. You have been well bred and well born; your father has great name in these parts, and your grandfather won cup two years at Newmarket races; your grandmother had sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do your work with good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play." I have never forgotten my mother's advice; I knew she was wise old horse, and our master thought great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, but he often called her Pet. Our master was good kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words; he spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children; we were all fond of him, and my mother loved him very much. When she saw him at gate, she would neigh with joy and trot up to him. He would pat and stroke her and say, "Well, old Pet, and how is your little Darkie?" I was dull black, so he called me Darkie; then he would give me piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought carrot for my mother. All horses would come to him, but I think we were his favourites. My mother always took him to town on market day in light gig. There was ploughboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field to pluck blackberries from hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted, he would have, what he called, fun with colts, throwing stones and sticks at them to make them gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could gallop off; but sometimes stone would hit and hurt us. One day he was at this game, and did not know that master was in next field; but he was there, watching what was going on: over hedge he jumped in snap, and catching Dick by arm, he gave him such box on ear as made him roar with pain and surprise. As soon as we saw master, we trotted up nearer to see what went on. "Bad boy!" he said, "bad boy! to chase colts. This is not first time, nor second, but it shall be last—there—take your money and go home, I shall not want you on my farm again." So we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, man who looked after horses, was just as gentle as our master, so we were well off. 02 Hunt Before I was two years old circumstance happened which I have never forgotten. It was early in spring; there had been little frost in night, and light mist still hung over woods and meadows. I and other colts were feeding at lower part of field when we heard, quite in distance, what sounded like cry of dogs. Oldest of colts raised his head, pricked his ears, and said, “There are hounds!” and immediately cantered off, followed by rest of us to upper part of field, where we could look over hedge and see several fields beyond. My mother and old riding horse of our master's were also standing near, and seemed to know all about it. “They have found hare,” said my mother, “and if they come this way we shall see hunt.” And soon dogs were all tearing down field of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, nor whine, but kept on “yo! yo, o, o! yo! yo, o, o!” at top of their voices. After them came number of men on horseback, some of them in green coats, all galloping as fast as they could. Old horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we young colts wanted to be galloping with them, but they were soon away into fields lower down; here it seemed as if they had come to stand; dogs left off barking, and ran about every way with their noses to ground. “They have lost scent,” said old horse; “perhaps hare will get off.” “What hare?” I said. “Oh! I don't know what hare; likely enough it may be one of our own hares out of woods; any hare they can find will do for dogs and men to run after;” and before long dogs began their “yo! yo, o, o!” again, and back they came altogether at full speed, making straight for our meadow at part where high bank and hedge overhang brook. “Now we shall see hare,” said my mother; and just then hare wild with fright rushed by and made for woods. On came dogs; they burst over bank, leaped stream, and came dashing across field followed by huntsmen. Six or eight men leaped their horses clean over, close upon dogs. Hare tried to get through fence; it was too thick, and she turned sharp round to make for road, but it was too late; dogs were upon her with their wild cries; we heard one shriek, and that was end of her. One of huntsmen rode up and whipped off dogs, who would soon have torn her to pieces. He held her up by leg torn and bleeding, and all gentlemen seemed well pleased. As for me, I was so astonished that I did not at first see what was going on by brook; but when I did look there was sad sight; two fine horses were down, one was struggling in stream, and other was groaning on grass. One of riders was getting out of water covered with mud, other lay quite still. “His neck is broke,” said my mother. “And serve him right, too,” said one of colts. I thought same, but my mother did not join with us. “Well, no,” she said, “you must not say that; but though I am old horse, and have seen and heard great deal, I never yet could make out why men are so fond of this sport; they often hurt themselves, often spoil good horses, and tear up fields, and all for hare or fox, or stag, that they could get more easily some other way; but we are only horses, and don't know.” While my mother was saying this we stood and looked on. Many of riders had gone to young man; but my master, who had been watching what was going on, was first to raise him. His head fell back and his arms hung down, and every one looked very serious. There was no noise now; even dogs were quiet, and seemed to know that something was wrong. They carried him to our master's house. I heard afterward that it was young George Gordon, squire's only son, fine, tall young man, and pride of his family. There was now riding off in all directions to doctor's, to farrier's, and no doubt to Squire Gordon's, to let him know about his son. When Mr. Bond, farrier, came to look at black horse that lay groaning on grass, he felt him all over, and shook his head; one of his legs was broken. Then some one ran to our master's house and came back with gun; presently there was loud bang and dreadful shriek, and then all was still; black horse moved no more. My mother seemed much troubled; she said she had known that horse for years, and that his name was “Rob Roy”; he was good horse, and there was no vice in him. She never would go to that part of field afterward. Not many days after we heard church-bell tolling for long time, and looking over gate we saw long, strange black coach that was covered with black cloth and was drawn by black horses; after that came another and another and another, and all were black, while bell kept tolling, tolling. They were carrying young Gordon to churchyard to bury him. He would never ride again. What they did with Rob Roy I never knew; but 'twas all for one little hare.