Black Beauty

bridge, instead of rising, went across '1
just level, so that in the middle, if the river was full, the water would be
nearly up to the woodwork and planks. However, as there were good substantial
rails on each side, people did not mind it. My master’s business engaged him a
long time. I saw her wave him good-bye from the bedroom window.
    A great rush of wind blew
up and removed the seat of my master’s trousers. The wind was blowing a gales
against me, and I had to take two paces backward for every one forward. By the
light of dawn, we arrived back.
    The mistress ran out, ‘Are
you really safe my dear?’
    ‘Yes, absolutely safe.’
    They gave me a good feed
that night; they gave me a grog of Best and a bottle of Moet et Chandon with an
ice bucket.

13

THE DEVIL’S TRADE MARK
     
    One day, John and I saw hence
    A boy forcing a horse to jump a fence
    He was giving the horse a thrashing
    John wanted me to go and give him a bashing
    Just then the horse threw him off her back
    And he hit the ground with a thwack
    He tried to grasp the horse’s reins
    But my master came and blew out his brains.
     
    One day, John and I had
been out on some business of our master’s — we were buying shares in Woolworths
— and we were returning gently, flat broke, on a long straight road. It must
have been a Roman road. At some distance, we saw a boy try to leap a pony over
a gate. The pony would not take the leap, so the boy jumped it for him to show
him the way. Then the boy tried again, and hit the pony with a whip, but he
only turned off on one side, scratching the boy’s leg. He whipped him again,
the pony turned, and scratched his other leg. Then the boy got off and gave the
pony a hard thrashing. When we reached the spot, the pony put his head down,
threw up his heels, and hurled the boy neatly into a hedge of nettles and, with
the rein dangling from his head, he set off at a full gallop.
    ‘Oh! oh! oh!’ cried the
boy, as he struggled about among the nettles, ‘I say, do come and help me out.’
    Then my Master rode up,
dismounted, picked up his blunderbuss, and blew the boy’s brains out.
    ‘Thank ye,’ said John. ‘I
think you are in quite the right place, and maybe a little scratching will
teach him not to leap the pony over a gate that is too high for him.’.
    The farmer was hurrying out
into the road, and his wife was standing at the gate looking frightened.
    ‘Have you seen my boy?’
said Mr Bushby as we came! up. ‘He went out an hour ago on my black pony.’
    ‘Oh yes, he fell off,’ said
the master, ‘and to put him out of his misery, I blew his brains out.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked
the farmer.
    ‘Well, sir, I saw your son
whipping and kicking the pony, so I took careful aim and blew his brains out.
It seemed to calm him, and your son is now sleeping in my garden.’
    The mother began to cry,
‘Oh! I must go and see my boy.’
    ‘You will have to dig six
feet down,’ said John, ‘that’s where he is.’
    We went on home, John
chuckling all the way. He told James about it who laughed and said, ‘Serve him
right.
    I knew that boy at school:
he took great airs on himself 1 because he was a farmer’s son; he used to
swagger about and bully the little boys; of course, we elder ones would not
have any of that nonsense and let him know that, in the school and playground,
farmers’ sons and labourers’ sons were all alike, so we beat the shit out of
him. I found him at a large window catching flies and pulling off their wings,
so I am glad you blew his brains out.’
    John said, ‘There is no
religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their
religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast,
it is all a sham — all a sham, James, and it won’t stand when things come to be
turned inside out and put down for what they are.’
    I personally have never had
my things turned inside out, so I didn’t know what he meant.

14

JAMES HOWARD
     
    One morning, across came the master
    At two miles per hour he couldn’t go any faster
    In his hand he held a letter
    I suppose he couldn’t find anything better
    It was from Sir Clifford at Clifford Hall
    Which, to me, meant fuck all
    Sir Cliff wanted to replace his Coachman Fred
    Primarily because he was dead
    No one volunteered for the job
    Except a bisexual called Rob.
     
    One morning in December,
John let me into my box after my daily exercise — twenty press-ups and twenty
sit-ups. He was