y master would not sell me till
I was four years old; he said lads ought not to work like men, and colts
ought not to work like horses till they were quite grown up.

When I was four years old, Squire Gordon came to look at me. He examined
my eyes, my mouth, and my legs; he felt them all down, and then I had to
walk and trot and gallop before him; he seemed to like me, and said,
"When he has been well broken in he will do very well." My master said
he would break me in himself, and he lost no time about it, for the next
day he began.

Every one may not know what breaking in is, therefore I will describe
it. It means to teach a horse to wear a saddle and bridle, and to carry
on his back a man, woman, or child; to go just the way they wish, and to
go quietly. Besides this, he has to learn to wear a collar, and a
breeching, and to stand still while they are put on; then to have a cart
or a buggy fixed behind, so that he cannot walk or trot without dragging
it after him; and he must go fast or slow, just as his driver wishes. He
must never start at what he sees, nor speak to other horses, nor bite,
nor kick, nor have any will of his own, but always do his master's will,
even though he may be very tired or hungry; but the worst of all is,
when his harness is once on, he may neither jump for joy nor lie down
for weariness. So you see this breaking in is a great thing.

[Illustration]

I had, of course, long been used to a halter and a head-stall, and to be
led about in the fields and lanes quietly, but now I was to have a bit
and bridle; my master gave me some oats as usual, and after a good deal
of coaxing he got the bit into my mouth and the bridle fixed, but it was
a nasty thing! Those who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot
think how bad it feels; a great piece of cold hard steel as thick as a
man's finger to be pushed into one's mouth, between one's teeth, and
over one's tongue, with the ends coming out at the corner of your
mouth, and held fast there by straps over your head, under your throat,
round your nose, and under your chin; so that no way in the world can
you get rid of the nasty hard thing; it is very bad! at least I thought
so; but I knew my mother always wore one when she went out, and all
horses did when they were grown up; and so, what with the nice oats, and
what with my master's pats, kind words, and gentle ways, I got to wear
my bit and bridle.

Next came the saddle, but that was not half so