Black Beauty

horse to Africa will never get
    The best he can hope is to be put down by a vet.
     
    I used to notice the speed
at which the butcher’s boy was made to go — 90 miles per hour. One day, we had
to wait some time in St John’s Wood; we were actually waiting for St John.
There was a butcher’s shop next door and, as we were standing, a butcher’s cart
came dashing up at 100 miles per hour. The horse was hot, and much exhausted;
he hung his head down, his legs hung down, his body hung down. The lad jumped
out of the cart and the master came out of the shop and was much displeased
when the lad landed on him.
    ‘How many times shall I
tell you not to drive at 100 miles per hour?’
    ‘So far twenty, sir,’ said
the lad.
    ‘You ruined the last horse
and broke his wind, it smelled terrible, and you are going to ruin this in the
same way. If you were not my own son, I would dismiss you on the spot.’ (His
was another spot a foot in diameter.) ‘It is a disgrace to have a horse brought
to the shop in a condition like that; you are liable to be taken up by the
police for such driving, and if you are, you need not look to me for bail, for
I have spoken to you till I am tired.’ During this speech, the boy had stood
by, still standing on the spot, sullen and dogged. It wasn’t his fault.
    ‘You always say, “Now be
quick; now look sharp!” and when I go to the houses, one wants a leg of mutton
for an early dinner, and I must be back with it in a quarter of an hour.’
    Who ever thinks of a
butcher? Some people do nothing but think of a butcher. In fact, there’s a
Think of Butchers Society.
    There was a young costerboy
who came up our street with sacks of potatoes and a gorilla. Apparently, some
people love gorilla and chips.
    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 was black from the coal. Actually, he was Ugandan and they called him
Ogu Amin; his father got rid of all the wogs in his country.

42

THE ELECTION
     
    Our cab was out on Election Day
    Politicians were trying to find their way
    Jerry wouldn’t let his cab be used
    For drunken voters to abuse
    He told them to go away
    And they’ve never been seen from that day.
     
    As we came into the yard
one afternoon, Polly came out: ‘Jerry! I’ve had Mr B. here asking about your
vote. He wants to hire your cab for the election.’
    ‘Well, Polly, I’m sorry but
I don’t want to put up with half-drunken voters. It would be an insult to the
horse, and I should hate to drive an insulted horse.’
    ‘I suppose you’ll vote for
the gentleman?’
    ‘I shall not vote for him,
Polly; you know what his trade is?’
    ‘Yes. He exports veal calves
to the continent.’
    Every man must do what he
thinks best for his country. Some did Barclay’s Bank and got away with it.
    On the morning before the
election, Jeremiah was putting me into the shafts when Dolly came into the
yard, sobbing and crying.
    ‘Why, Dolly, what is the
matter?’
    ‘Those naughty boys have
thrown rice pudding, peaches and cream and it is all over me, and they called
me a little ragamuffin,’ she said, eating as much of it as she could before it
slid off.
    ‘They called her a little
blue ragamuffin father,’ said Harry, also covered in rice pudding, peaches and
cream, and looking very angry. ‘But I have given it to them, they won’t insult
my sister again. I killed them.’
    Jeremiah Barker kissed the
child and said, ‘Run in to mother, my pet, and tell her I think you had better
stay at home today and help her eat the rest of the rice pudding, peaches and
cream.’
    Then, turning gravely to
Harry:
    ‘My boy, I hope you will
always kill anybody who offends your sister.’
    ‘Why, father, I thought
blue was for Liberty.’
    ‘My boy, Liberty does not
come from colours; they only show party, and all the liberty you can get out of
them is liberty to get drunk and throw rice pudding, peaches and cream at each
other.’
    ‘Oh, father, you are
laughing.’
    ‘No, Harry, I am serious;
I’m only laughing to camouflage me being serious.’
    At that moment, he was hit
full in the face with rice pudding, peaches and cream.

43

A FRIEND IN NEED
     
    One day in the City
    Jerry saw a woman and took pity
    She was in the city all alone
    She had a child weighing nineteen stone
    She said she had to be at St Thomas by midday
    So Jerry took her right away
    From her, he refused to take her fare
    The bloody fool, she was