04 Birtwick Park

           

           AtthistimeIusedtostandinthestableandmycoatwasbrushedeverydaytillitshonelikearook’swing.ItwasearlyinMay,whentherecameamanfromSquireGordon’s,whotookmeawaytothehall.Mymastersaid,“Good-by,Darkie;beagoodhorse,andalwaysdoyourbest.”Icouldnotsay“good-by”,soIputmynoseintohishand;hepattedmekindly,andIleftmyfirsthome.AsIlivedsomeyearswithSquireGordon,Imayaswelltellsomethingabouttheplace.

           SquireGordon’sparkskirtedthevillageofBirtwick.Itwasenteredbyalargeirongate,atwhichstoodthefirstlodge,andthenyoutrottedalongonasmoothroadbetweenclumpsoflargeoldtrees;thenanotherlodgeandanothergate,whichbroughtyoutothehouseandthegardens.Beyondthislaythehomepaddock,theoldorchard,andthestables.Therewasaccommodationformanyhorsesandcarriages;butIneedonlydescribethestableintowhichIwastaken;thiswasveryroomy,withfourgoodstalls;alargeswingingwindowopenedintotheyard,whichmadeitpleasantandairy.

           Thefirststallwasalargesquareone,shutinbehindwithawoodengate;theotherswerecommonstalls,goodstalls,butnotnearlysolarge;ithadalowrackforhayandalowmangerforcorn;itwascalledaloosebox,becausethehorsethatwasputintoitwasnottiedup,butleftloose,todoasheliked.Itisagreatthingtohavealoosebox.

           Intothisfineboxthegroomputme;itwasclean,sweet,andairy.

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