ant home by the tall oak-trees, and go into that great
gloomy Union House.
27 Ruined and Going Downhill
As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed I was turned into a small
meadow for a month or two; no other creature was there; and though I
enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I had been so long used to
society that I felt very lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends,
and now I missed her company extremely. I often neighed when I heard
horses' feet passing in the road, but I seldom got an answer; till one
morning the gate was opened, and who should come in but dear old Ginger.
The man slipped off her halter, and left her there. With a joyful whinny
I trotted up to her; we were both glad to meet, but I soon found that it
was not for our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. Her story
would be too long to tell, but the end of it was that she had been
ruined by hard riding, and was now turned off to see what rest would do.
Lord George was young and would take no warning; he was a hard rider,
and would hunt whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of his
horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a steeplechase, and he
determined to ride. Though the groom told him she was a little strained,
and was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and on the day of
the race urged Ginger to keep up with the foremost riders. With her high
spirit, she strained herself to the utmost; she came in with the first
three horses, but her wind was touched, besides which he was too heavy
for her, and her back was strained. "And so," she said, "here we are,
ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard, and I
by a fool; it is very hard." We both felt in ourselves that we were not
what we had been. However, that did not spoil the pleasure we had in
each other's company; we did not gallop about as we once did, but we
used to feed, and lie down together, and stand for hours under one
of the shady lime-trees with our heads close to each other; and so we
passed our time till the family returned from town.
One day we saw the earl come into the meadow, and York was with him.
Seeing who it was, we stood still under our lime-tree, and let them come
up to us. They examined us carefully. The earl seemed much annoyed.
"There is three hundred pounds flung away for no earthly use," said he;
"but what I care most for is that these horses of my old friend, who
thought they would find a go
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