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<h2> 06 Liberty </h2>
<p>I was quite happy in my new place, and if there was one thing that I
missed it must not be thought I was discontented; all who had to do with
me were good and I had a light airy stable and the best of food. What more
could I want? Why, liberty! For three years and a half of my life I had
had all the liberty I could wish for; but now, week after week, month
after month, and no doubt year after year, I must stand up in a stable
night and day except when I am wanted, and then I must be just as steady
and quiet as any old horse who has worked twenty years. Straps here and
straps there, a bit in my mouth, and blinkers over my eyes. Now, I am not
complaining, for I know it must be so. I only mean to say that for a young
horse full of strength and spirits, who has been used to some large field
or plain where he can fling up his head and toss up his tail and gallop
away at full speed, then round and back again with a snort to his
companions—I say it is hard never to have a bit more liberty to do
as you like. Sometimes, when I have had less exercise than usual, I have
felt so full of life and spring that when John has taken me out to
exercise I really could not keep quiet; do what I would, it seemed as if I
must jump, or dance, or prance, and many a good shake I know I must have
given him, especially at the first; but he was always good and patient.</p>
<p>"Steady, steady, my boy," he would say; "wait a bit, and we will have a
good swing, and soon get the tickle out of your feet." Then as soon as we
were out of the village, he would give me a few miles at a spanking trot,
and then bring me back as fresh as before, only clear of the fidgets, as
he called them. Spirited horses, when not enough exercised, are often
called skittish, when it is only play; and some grooms will punish them,
but our John did not; he knew it was only high spirits. Still, he had his
own ways of making me understand by the tone of his voice or the touch of
the rein. If he was very serious and quite determined, I always knew it by
his voice, and that had more power with me than anything else, for I was
very fond of him.</p>
<p>I ought to say that sometimes we had our liberty for a few hours; this
used to be on fine Sundays in the summer-time. The carriage never went out
on Sundays, because the church was not far off.</p>
<p>It was a great treat to us to be turned out into the home paddock or the
old orchard; the grass was so cool and soft to our feet, the air so sweet,
and the freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant—to gallop, to lie
down, and roll over on our backs, or to nibble the sweet grass. Then it
was a very good time for talking, as we stood together under the shade of
the large chestnut tree.</p>
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