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Joe turned my head , and we galloped to Mr Clay , who owned the brickyard . Joe told him everything . “ Thank you , my lad , ” said Mr Clay . “ Will you tell a magistrate what you saw ? ” A magistrate is a judge who decides small cases . “ I will , and gladly , ” said Joe . At home Joe told John the whole story . “ You did right , my boy , ” said John . “ Many people would ride past and say it was not their business . But when you see cruelty , it is everybody’s business to stop it . ” Our master was a magistrate himself , and that afternoon the carter was brought to him . Joe told his story clearly , and the carter had to go before a higher court . After that week Joe seemed an inch taller . I lived in this happy place for three years . But sad changes were coming . Our mistress was often ill . At last the doctor said that she must go and live in a warm country for two or three years . Everybody was sorry . Miss Jessie and Miss Flora came to say goodbye and hugged Merrylegs like an old friend . Then we heard what was going to happen to us . The master sold Ginger and me to his old friend , an earl . An earl is a nobleman of high rank . Merrylegs went to the vicar , the priest of the village church , and the master made him promise never to sell the pony . Joe went there too , to look after Merrylegs and help in the house . John wanted to work with young horses . “ Many young horses are frightened and spoilt because people treat them wrongly , ” he said . “ I want to give them a fair start . ” On the last sad day Ginger and I brought the carriage to the door . The master carried the mistress down the steps in his arms . The servants stood round , crying . At the station the mistress said in her sweet voice , “ Goodbye , John . God bless you . ” John did not answer . Perhaps he could not speak . Joe stood close to our heads to hide his tears . Then the train went away and left some very heavy hearts behind it . “ We shall never see her again , ” said John . “ Never . ” He drove us slowly home . But it was not our home now . VIII . The Bearing Rein The next day John rode Ginger and led me to Earlshall Park , where the Earl lived . The house was very grand , and there were many stables . The coachman there was Mr York . John told him about us . “ The black horse has the most perfect temper I ever knew , ” he said . “ People treated the mare badly before she came to us . With us she has been a very good , willing horse . But if people treat her unfairly , she will fight back . And we never used the bearing rein on either of them . ” “ Here they must wear it , ” said York . “ I like a loose rein myself . But my lady wants her carriage horses to hold their heads up high . ”
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