said, "that our masters know how bad it is for us?"

"I can't say," he replied, "but the dealers and the horse-doctors know
it very well. I was at a dealer's once, who was training me and another
horse to go as a pair; he was getting our heads up, and he said, a
little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there
asked him why he did so. 'Because,' said he, 'people won't buy them
unless we do. The fashionable people want their horses to carry their
heads high and to step high. Of course, it is very bad for the horses,
but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, and they come
for another pair.' That," said Max, "is what he said in my hearing, and
you can judge for yourself."

What I suffered with that rein for four months in my lady's carriage
would be hard to describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted much
longer, either my health or my temper would have given way. Before
that, I never knew what it was to foam at the mouth, but now the action
of the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and the constrained position of
my head and throat, always caused me to froth at the mouth more or less.
Some people think it very fine to see this, and say, "What fine,
spirited creatures!" But it is just as unnatural for horses as for men
to foam at the mouth; it is a sure sign of some discomfort, and should
be attended to. Besides this, there was a pressure on my windpipe, which
often made my breathing very uncomfortable; when I returned from my
work, my neck and chest were strained and painful, my mouth and tongue
tender, and I felt worn and depressed.

[Illustration]

In my old home I always knew that John and my master were my friends;
but here, although in many ways I was well treated, I had no friend.
York might have known, and very likely did know, how that rein harassed
me; but I suppose he took it as a matter of course that could not be
helped; at any rate, nothing was done to relieve me.

CHAPTER XI

A HORSE FAIR

No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to those who have nothing
to lose; at any rate, there is plenty to see.

Long strings of young horses out of the country, fresh from the marshes,
and droves of shaggy little Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs; and
hundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them with their long tails
braided up and tied with scarlet cord; and a good many like myself,
handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through s