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White Dandy: A Horse's Story

<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> Chet drove Topsy a great deal; "too much for so young a horse," the old stableman said. One day when he brought her in, her back was a perfect network of welts, raised by his cruel whip. "Oh, Topsy," I said, "what were you doing?" The poor young thing hung her head pitifully. "I thought I was doing all right, but he jerked the lines this way and that, until I became so nervous I did not know what to do, and finally stumbled. With that he stood right up in the cart and whipped me. It seemed every blow cut in half an inch. I reared and plunged to escape the lash, but he kept on till I got quiet through sheer exhaustion. Oh, me! I wish I were dead; men have the power, and they are so cruel." Another time he drove her until she was dripping with sweat, then led her into a spring of cold water and dashed it all over her. Every one about the stables said it would kill her, but she got along with only a severe cold. About this time Dr. Fred sent Chet off to school, and I, for one, was relieved. Carm drove Topsy then, but she said he was never abusive, only sometimes forgetful. After Chet had been gone a few months there came a letter from him that made a deal of trouble in the house. What it was about I cannot really say, but Master announced to me one morning that we were going to live at the farm. I was glad, for I was tired of the livery barn. We moved right away, but I could see that something was sorely troubling him. A man and his wife by the name of Pell ran the farm now, and a breezy, young English couple they were. She especially pleased me with her sunny ways and funny pronunciation. She fixed Master's rooms up "'omelike," she called it, and was always tucking posies in my bridle, or feeding me with sweet cakes. [Pg 69] I thought she would cheer Master up if anybody could, but though he smiled often he grew quickly thoughtful again. Plenty of people came for him, and after a while he bought another horse named Dexter. I knew he owned John and Jean just as much as Fred did, but I suppose he thought best to leave them where they were. After a while Queen and Julie were sent out. I wondered at first, until they told me they were worn out and had been sent out to pick up. "I know what it means," said Julie. "We are to be patched up and sold. We've served him (Dr. Fred) until we are used up; now we'll go to the first bidder." It proved true, and in two weeks a rough-looking man drove them away. Several years after, while waiting at a gateway for Master, I noticed something familiar-looking about an old horse attached to the separator of a threshing machine. I could not place her at first, but as they came nearer I saw it was Julie, or what might be her walking skeleton. I spoke to her as she was stopped near me. "Oh, Dandy!" she cried. "I am glad to see you, and you don't look a day older!" I asked her about herself and Queen. "It is a common story," she said. "Queen was run to death one night by some wild boys. First she fell down, but they pounded her till she got up; she staggered on a little further and fell again, the blood gushing from nose and mouth. They left her there, and in the morning she was dead. "I envy her, though," said Julie. "Better be dead than dying, I say." Just then the man belonging on the separator came up, and with an oath bade her hold up her head. She gave me a sad, hopeless glance as she tried to obey. The machine was set not far off, and as Master was a long time in the house, I had an opportunity to watch Julie and her mates—all thin, half-dead-looking creatures. The man on the horse-power shrieked, cursed and slashed right and left with his long whip. On Julie and an old blind horse it seemed to me it fell most often, though. After a long, dizzy run, during which the poor creatures[Pg 70] staggered more than once, they stopped, and, without the slightest cause for so doing, the driver went around and kicked Julie a number of times. I have found by observation that this is the usual way with the world. Young horses may receive some care and consideration, but, as soon as they begin to fail, they are neglected or sold, and by old age their condition is pitiful. I wonder if the money Dr. Fred got for the bays will prove of sufficient good to him here to offset the record of misery he will have to face some day up there! Who can tell? We had a nice time at the farm. Dexter and I had plenty to do, but neither considered it any hardship to be tired in Dr. Dick's service. Mr. Pell had a span of quiet farm-horses, who, like ourselves, were contented to serve a good master. All the stock and poultry were well cared for, and nothing of the tales of woe from the livery stable reached us here, save when Topsy or one of Fred's horses came out for a day. After a while Master came into my stall one day, with an open letter in his hand. "Oh, Dandy!" he said, "what can I do?" Then he told me that Chet was drinking and gambling, and had written to him for money. "I feel that I ought not to send it to him, at the same time I promised to stand by Minnie's children. That woman has turned his father against him, and the latter has sworn never to send him another cent to help him out of his scrapes." He sent the money, though, then and once afterward. How long the estrangement between the brothers might have lasted I know not, had not Fred fallen ill or something. They said he had "snakes," whatever that is. Paddy came in great haste, and Master was away nearly two days. He looked very worn and white on his return, but afterward seemed more cheerful, and in time I learned that his brother had quit drinking and signed a pledge. They were much together after that, and finally the town house was given up, and the family came to the farm. I was very sorry, only I was glad to have Bobby again. [Pg 71] Mrs. Wallace was in poor health, too, and spent most of her time in bed. Mr. and Mrs. Pell stayed on just the same, and great friends they became with Bobby, but the boys were trials to all of us. Tommy was his mother's boy, Master said, and I guess he did not mean it for a compliment either. By and by even good-natured Mrs. Pell got cross with him. He chased the young chickens to death, clubbed the pigs and cows, crushed the little chickens between two boards, trampled the flower beds and made himself generally hateful. Appeals to his mother met with: "Don't bother me, my nerves are all unstrung;" or, "Poor child, he is so full of his pranks!" Then Mrs. Pell spoke to his father, and that gentleman brought the youngster to the barn and whipped him with his riding whip. After that a threat to tell his father curbed him some. Chet was away two years before he came home at all. Two years at his time of life make great changes, and he came back a tall, slender youth, with a bit of dark down on his upper lip, and a thoughtful, studious air that was becoming. He was through sowing wild oats, he said, and we all felt very proud and glad—all but his stepmother. Of course, he drove Topsy out the first thing, and when I saw her, on her return, I knew that Chester Wallace still carried a cruel heart in his bosom. She said he drove as mercilessly as ever. I pitied the poor thing, for I knew that she loved her young master despite his cruel treatment. It is the way with us horses. He was home two months or more, and Topsy looked jaded and worn when he went away. I wonder that men do not more often notice when their horses have a fretted look. It is a sure sign that they are being hurt in some way. Our eyes and facial expressions speak louder than words, if only people cared to consult them. I noticed a horse, not long since, whose countenance was distorted with pain, yet his owner paid no heed, only cracked the whip and crowded him on. [Pg 72] As you hope for mercy, drivers, show it to the animals you drive, remembering that as you measure it shall be measured unto you again. Carm had no taste for books, but was wild to be a railroad man. "Just as soon as I am old enough," he said, "I shall be a brakesman;" and Mrs. Wallace encouraged him. Anything, with her, to get them away from home. Her relations with Chet, through the summer, had not been pleasant, so he stayed another two years before returning. A man in stature and will he came home that time. Every one outside admired him, and he really seemed a fine man. His father suggested that he superintend the farm for a year or so, until he decided what he would do. The Pells had long been gone, and the help outdoors and in was transient. He finally decided to do it, and went to work. All was well so long as he did not get angry, but he lost his temper on the slightest provocation, and ofttimes without any. Especially was he hard on anything in his power. One morning I saw him get angry at a cow, because she had wandered into a lot where she did not belong. Grabbing hold of a pitchfork, he gave chase. Round and round the lot the frightened creature ran, too confused to see the narrow gateway, Chet jabbing the fork into her at almost every step. The longer the chase continued the madder he got and the less chance the cow had for escape. How long it was I cannot say, but it seemed an age to me before Master appeared on the scene, and, in thunder tones, bade him cease. Gently he drove the trembling creature from the lot. Blood trickled from some of the punctures, and as soon as she found a quiet place she lay down. Days and weeks of suffering followed, and then Master said she must be put out of her pain. Chet was plowing with Topsy and another horse one day. The former had a sore mouth, brought on by his nervous irritating way of twitching and jerking the lines. Exasperated at last, she worked the bit up so as to hold it with her teeth. [Pg 73] Instantly flying into a passion, he drew his knife from his pocket and gashed her mouth far back on either side. Such a sorry sight as she was when he, shamefacedly, led her into the stall, blood running in a stream from either side of her face. It was not the pain—and there was plenty of that, and inconvenience, too, during the weeks following—so much as it was the injustice and cruelty that hurt sensitive, high-mettled Topsy. There was a stormy interview between uncle and nephew in the barn, while the lacerated mouth was being sewed and dressed. "If there was a law in this state that would touch such fellows as you are, I'd use it on you," cried Master hotly, "and there will be one; mark it!" <hr class="chap" /> [Pg 74] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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