There was no kind master like yours to look after me, and talk to me, and bring me nice things to eat. The man that had the care of us
never gave me a kind word in my life. I do not mean that he ill-used me, but he did not care for us one bit further than to see that we had plenty to eat, and shelter in the winter.
A footpath ran through our field, and very often the great boys passing through would fling stones to make us gallop. I was never hit, but one fine young colt was badly cut in the face, and I should think it would be a scar for life.
We did not care for them, but of course it made us more wild, and we settled it in our minds that boys were our enemies.
We had very good fun in the free meadows, galloping up and down and chasing each other round and round the field; then standing still under the shade of the trees.
But when it came to breaking in, that was a bad time for me; several men came to catch me, and when at last they closed me in at one corner of the field, one caught me by the forelock, another caught me by the nose and held it so tight I could hardly draw my breath;
then another took my under jaw in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth open, and so by force they got on the halter and the bar into my mouth; then one dragged me along by the halter, another flogging behind, and this was the first experience I had of men's kindness; it was all force.
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