Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
The Butcher I saw a great deal of trouble among the horses in London and much of it might have been prevented by a little common sense.
We horses do not mind hard work if we are treated reasonably and I am sure there are many driven by quite poor men who have a happier life than I had when I used to go in the countess's carriage with my silver mounted harness and high feeding.
It often went to my heart to see how the little ponies were used,
Straining along with heavy loads or staggering under heavy blows for some low cruel boy.
Once I saw a little grey pony with a thick mane and pretty head and so much like Merry Legs.
If I had not been in harness I should have laid to him.
He was doing his best to pull a heavy cart while a strong rough boy was cutting him under the belly with his whip.
Could it be Merry Legs?
It was just like him.
But then Mr Blomfeld was never to sell him.
I think he would not do it.
But this might have been quite as good a little fellow and had as happy a place when he was young.
I often noticed the great speed at which Butcher's horses were made to go although I did not know why until one day when we had to wait some time in St John's Wood.
There was a Butcher's shop next door and as we were standing a Butcher's cart came dashing up at great pace.
The horse was hot and much exhausted.
He hung his head down while his heaving sides and trembling legs showed how hard he'd been driven.
The lad jumped out of the cart and was getting the basket and the master came out of the shop much displeased.
After looking at the horse he turned angrily to the lad.
How many times shall I tell you not to drive like that?
You ruined the last horse and broke his wind and you're going to ruin this one in just the same way.
If you were not my own son I'd dismiss you on the spot.
It's a disgrace to have a horse brought to a shop in a condition like that.
You're liable to be taken up by the police for such driving and if you are don't look to me to pay your bail for I've spoken to you till I'm tired.
You'll have to look out for yourself.
During this speech the boy stood up sullen and dogged but when his father ceased he broke out angrily.
It wasn't his fault he said and he wouldn't take the blame.
He was only going by the orders all the same.
You always say be quick and look sharp and when I go out to the houses one wants a leg of mutton for an early dinner and I'll have to be back within a quarter of an hour.
Another cook has forgotten to order the beef so I have to go back and fetch that and be back in no time at all or the mistress will scold.
The housekeeper says they've got company unexpectedly sometimes and they must have chops sent up.
Then the lady at number four in the crescent she never ordered a dinner till the meat comes in for lunch.
Then it's nothing but hurry hurry hurry all the time.
If the gentleman would think of what they want and order their meat the day before there didn't need to be this blow up did there?
No I wish to goodness they would said the butcher.
It'd save me a wonderful deal of harassment and I could suit my customers much better if I knew beforehand but there that's no excuse to mistreat the horses.
What's the use of talking to you?
Whoever thinks of a butcher's convenience or a butcher's horse.
Take him in and look after him well I say.
He does not go out again today and if anything else is wanted boy you'll carry it yourself in the basket.
And with that he went in and I watched as the horse was led away.
This boy didn't mean to be cruel and most of them are not cruel at all.
I've seen some as fond of their pony or a donkey as if it had been a favourite dog.
And the little creatures have worked away as cheerfully and willingly for their young drivers as I work for Jerry.
We like a soft hand and it might be hard work sometimes but a soft friend's hand and a nice voice make it much easier.
There was once a young Costa boy who came up our street with greens and potatoes.
He had a very old pony who wasn't very handsome but he was the cheerfullest and pluckest little thing I ever saw.
To see how fond those two were of each other was a real treat.
That pony followed his master around like a dog and when he got into his cart he would trot off without a whip or a word and rattle down the street as merrily as if he'd come out of the Queen's stables.
Jerry liked that boy.
He called him Prince Charlie for he said he would make a king of drivers some day.
And I think he was right.
There was an old man too who used to come up our street with a little coal cart.
He wore a coal heaver's hat and looked rough and black.
He and his old horse used to prod together along the street like two good partners who understood each other.
The horse would stop of his own accord at the doors where they took coal of him and he used to keep one ear bent towards his master.
Polly took her coal off him and he was very friendly.
Jerry said it was a comfort to think how happy his old horse might be in that poor place.
One day while our cab and many others were waiting outside one of the parks a shabby old cab drove up beside ours.
The horse I recognised.
She was a worn old chestnut with an ill kept coat but her bones showed plainly through it and her knees were knuckled over.
I'd been eating some hay and the wind rolled a little lock of it that way and then I turned and looked about for more.
There was a hopeless look in it that I couldn't help noticing.
She looked full at me and said,
Black Beauty is that you?
It was Ginger but how she had changed.
Our drivers were standing together a little way off so I sidled up to her for a step or two that we might have a little talk.
After a twelve months run off at Earlshall she was considered to be fit for work again and was sold to a gentleman.
For a little while she got on very well but after a longer gallop than usual the old strain returned.
And so at last,
Said she,
I was bought by a man who kept a number of cabs and horses.
He lets them out.
You look well off,
She said,
And I'm glad of it but I can't tell you what my life's been like.
When they found out my weakness they said I was not worth what they gave for me and I was going to one of the low cabs.
That's what I'm doing here.
You used to stand up for yourself if you were ill used,
I said to her.
It's no use,
She said.
There's nothing we can do,
Just bear it.
I wish the end was come.
I felt so sorry for Ginger after this.
I put my nose up to her but I could say nothing else.
I think she was pleased to see me for she said,
You are the only friend I ever had.
And just then her driver came up and she was driven off once more.
Not long after this a cart with a dead horse in it passed our cab stand.
It was a chestnut horse with a long thin neck and a white streak down the forehead.
I believe it was Ginger.
I hoped it was for then her troubles would be all over.
I wish her nothing but rest on her next journey.
