Part III
Chapter 33: A London Cab Horse
(continued)
Captain went out in the cab all the morning. Harry came in after school
to feed me and give me water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab.
Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and bridle fitted comfortably
as if he had been John Manly over again. When the crupper
was let out a hole or two it all fitted well. There was no check-rein,
no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle. What a blessing that was!
After driving through the side street we came to the large cab stand
where Jerry had said "Good-night". On one side of this wide street
were high houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the other
was an old church and churchyard, surrounded by iron palisades.
Alongside these iron rails a number of cabs were drawn up,
waiting for passengers; bits of hay were lying about on the ground;
some of the men were standing together talking; some were sitting
on their boxes reading the newspaper; and one or two
were feeding their horses with bits of hay, and giving them a drink of water.
We pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab. Two or three men
came round and began to look at me and pass their remarks.
"Very good for a funeral," said one.
"Too smart-looking," said another, shaking his head in a very wise way;
"you'll find out something wrong one of these fine mornings,
or my name isn't Jones."
"Well," said Jerry pleasantly, "I suppose I need not find it out till it
finds me out, eh? And if so, I'll keep up my spirits a little longer."
Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great gray coat
with great gray cape and great white buttons, a gray hat,
and a blue comforter loosely tied round his neck; his hair was gray, too;
but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way for him.
He looked me all over, as if he had been going to buy me;
and then straightening himself up with a grunt, he said,
"He's the right sort for you, Jerry; I don't care what you gave for him,
he'll be worth it." Thus my character was established on the stand.
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