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Chapter 3 My Breaking In I was now beginning to grow handsome.
My coat had grown fine and soft and I was bright black.
I had one white foot and a pretty white star on my forehead.
I was thought very handsome.
My master would not sell me until I was four years old.
He said lads ought not to work like men and colts ought not to work like horses until they were quite grown up.
When I was four years old,
Squire Gordon came to look at me.
He examined my eyes,
My mouth and my legs.
He felt them all down.
And then I had to walk and trot and gallop before him.
He seemed to like me and said,
When he has been well broken in,
He will do very well.
My master said he would break me in himself as he should not like me to be frightened or hurt,
And he lost no time about it for the next day he began.
Everyone may not know what breaking in is,
Therefore I will describe it.
It means to teach a horse to wear a saddle and bridle and to carry on his back a man,
Woman or child.
To go just the way they wish and to go quietly.
Beside this he has to wear a collar,
A cropper and a breeching and to stand still while they are put on.
Then to have a cart or chaise fitted behind so he cannot walk or trot without dragging it after him.
And he must go fast or slow just as his driver wishes.
He must never start at what he sees nor speak to other horses,
Nor bite,
Nor kick,
Nor have any will of his own.
But always do his master's will,
Even though he may be very tired or hungry.
But the worst of all is when his harness is once on,
He may neither jump for joy nor lie down for weariness.
So,
You see,
This breaking in is a great thing.
I had,
Of course,
Long been used to a horter and a headstall and to be led about in the fields and lanes quietly.
But now I was to have a bit and a bridle.
My master gave me some oats as usual and after a good deal of coaxing he got the bit into my mouth and the bridle fixed.
But it was a nasty thing.
Those who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot think how bad it feels.
A great piece of cold,
Hard steel as thick as a man's finger to be pushed into one's mouth,
Between one's teeth and over one's tongue,
Until the ends coming out at the corner of your mouth are held fast there by straps over your head,
Under your throat,
Around your nose and under your chin.
So that no way in the world can you get rid of the nasty hard thing.
It is very bad.
Yes,
Very bad.
At least I thought so.
But I knew my mother always wore one when she went out and all horses did when they were grown up.
And so,
What with the nice oats and what with my master's pats,
Kind words and gentle ways,
I got to wear my bit and bridle.
Next came the saddle,
But that was not half so bad.
My master put it on my back very gently while old Daniel held my head.
He then made the girth fast under my body,
Patting and talking to me all the time.
And I had a few oats and a little eating about.
And this he did every day until I began to look round for the oats in the saddle.
At length one morning,
My master got on my back and rode me round the meadow on the soft grass.
It certainly did feel queer.
But I must say I felt rather proud to carry my master.
And as he continued to ride me a little every day,
I soon became accustomed to it.
The next unpleasant business was putting on the iron shoes.
That too was very hard at first.
My master went with me to the smith's forge to see I was not hurt or got any fright.
The blacksmith took my feet in his hand one after the other and cut away some of the hoof.
That did not pain me,
So I stood still on three legs until he had done them all.
Then he took a piece of iron the shape of my foot and clapped it on and drove some nails through the shoe quite into my hoof so that the shoe was firmly on.
My feet felt very stiff and heavy.
But in time I got used to it.
And now,
Having got so far,
My fast went on to break me to harness.
There were more new things to wear.
First a stiff heavy collar just on my neck and a bridle with great side pieces against my eyes called blinkers.
And blinkers indeed they were,
For I could not see on either side but only straight in front of me.
Next there was a small saddle with a nasty stiff strap that went under my tail that was the cropper.
I hated the cropper.
To have my long tail doubled up and poked through that strap was almost as bad as the bit.
I never felt more like kicking but of course I could not kick such a good master and so in time I got used to everything and could do my work as well as my mother.
I must not forget to mention one part of my training which I have always considered a very great advantage.
My master sent me for a fortnight to a neighbouring farmer's who had a meadow which was skirted on one side by the railway.
Here were some sheep and cows and I was turned in among them.
I shall never forget the first train that ran by.
I was feeding quietly near the pails which separated the meadow from the railway when I heard a strange sound at a distance and before I knew whence it came with a rush and a clatter and a puffing out of smoke a long black train of something flew by and was almost gone before I could draw my breath.
I turned and galloped to the further side of the meadow as fast as I could go and there I stood snorting with astonishment and fear.
In the course of the day many other trains went by,
Some more slowly.
These drew up at the station and some made an awful shriek and groan before they stopped.
I thought it very dreadful but the cows went on eating and hardly raised their heads as the black frightful thing came puffing and grinding past.
For the first few days I could not feed in peace but as I found this terrible creature never came into the field or did me any harm I began to disregard it and very soon I cared as little about the passing of a train as the cows and sheep did.
My master often drove me in double harness with my mother because she was steady and could teach me how to go better than a strange horse.
She told me the better I behaved the better I should be treated and that it was wisest always to do my best to please my master.
But,
Said she,
There are a great many kinds of men there are good thoughtful men like our master that any horse might be proud to serve and there are bad cruel men who never ought to have a horse or dog to call their own.
Besides there are a great many foolish men who never trouble themselves to think and these spoil more horses than all just for want of sense.
They don't mean it but they do it for all that.
I hope you will fall into good hands but a horse never knows who may buy him or who may drive him.
It is a chance for all of us but still I say do your best wherever you go and keep up your good name.
