ylegs that if I had not been in
harness I should have neighed 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 and chucking cruelly at his little mouth. Could it be
Merrylegs? It was just like him; but then Mr. Blomefield was never to
sell him, and 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 butchers' horses were made to
go, though I did not know why it was so till 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 a 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 had been driven. The
lad jumped out of the cart and was getting the basket when 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 in this way? You ruined
the last horse and broke his wind, 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;
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'm tired; you must look out for yourself."

During this speech the boy had stood by, sullen and dogged, but when his
father ceased he broke out angrily. It wasn't his fault, and he wouldn't
take the blame; he was only going by orders all the time.

"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; another cook has forgotten to order
the beef; I must go and fetch it and be back in no time, or the
mistress will scold; and the housekeeper says they have company coming
unexpectedly and must have some chops sent up directly; and the lady at
No. 4, in the Crescent, never orders her dinner till the meat comes
in for lunch, and it's nothing but hurry, hurry, all the time. If the
gentry would think of what they want, and order their meat the day
before, there need not be this blow up!"

"I wish to goodness they would," said the butcher; "'twould sav