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I . My First Home The first place that I can remember well was a large , pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it . Tall trees leaned over the pond , and at the bottom of the meadow a little river ran past . When I was very young , I lived on my mother’s milk . In the daytime I ran beside her , and at night I lay down close to her . There were six colts in the meadow with me . A colt is a young male horse . They were older than I was , and we galloped round and round the field together . Sometimes the play was rough , because they often bit and kicked . One day , after a lot of kicking , my mother called me to her . “ Listen to me carefully , ” she said . “ The colts here are good colts , but nobody has taught them good manners . You come from a good family . Your grandfather won the cup at the Newmarket races , and your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew . I hope you will grow up gentle and good . Do your work with a good will , lift your feet up well when you trot , and never bite or kick , even in play . ” I have never forgotten my mother’s advice . Her name was Duchess , but our master often called her Pet . Our master was Farmer Grey , and he was a good , kind man . He spoke to us as kindly as he spoke to his own children . When my mother saw him at the gate , she neighed with joy and trotted up to him . “ Well , old Pet , ” he said , “ and how is your little Darkie ? ” I was a dull black colour then , so he called me Darkie . He usually gave me a piece of bread . A farm boy called Dick sometimes threw stones at us to make us gallop . One day the master saw it from the next field . He jumped over the hedge and caught Dick by the arm . “ Bad boy ! ” he said . “ This is not the first time , but it will be the last . Go home . I don’t want you on my farm again . ” Before I was two years old , something sad happened . One spring morning a hunt came across the fields near our meadow . There were many dogs and many men on horseback . At the bottom of our field there was a steep bank above the river . A young rider tried to jump it on a fine black horse , and they both fell . The rider was young George Gordon . He was the only son of Squire Gordon , the most important gentleman in our part of the country . The young man never woke up again . The horse’s leg was broken , and the men ended his life quickly so that he would not suffer any more . My mother was sad for a long time after that day . When I was four years old , my coat was soft and bright black . I had one white foot and a pretty white star on my forehead . Squire Gordon came to look at me . He looked at my eyes , my mouth and my legs .
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