Чорний красень

33 A London Cab Horse

           

           “Toosmart-looking,”saidanother,shakinghisheadinaverywiseway;“you’llfindoutsomethingwrongoneofthesefinemornings,ormynameisn’tJones.”

           “Well,”saidJerrypleasantly,“IsupposeIneednotfinditouttillitfindsmeout,eh?Andifso,I’llkeepupmyspiritsalittlelonger.”

           Thentherecameupabroad-facedman,dressedinagreatgraycoatwithgreatgraycapeandgreatwhitebuttons,agrayhat,andabluecomforterlooselytiedroundhisneck;hishairwasgray,too;buthewasajolly-lookingfellow,andtheothermenmadewayforhim.Helookedmeallover,asifhehadbeengoingtobuyme;andthenstraighteninghimselfupwithagrunt,hesaid,“He’stherightsortforyou,Jerry;Idon’tcarewhatyougaveforhim,he’llbeworthit.”Thusmycharacterwasestablishedonthestand.

           Thisman’snamewasGrant,buthewascalled“GrayGrant”,or“GovernorGrant”.Hehadbeenthelongestonthatstandofanyofthemen,andhetookituponhimselftosettlemattersandstopdisputes.Hewasgenerallyagood-humored,sensibleman;butifhistemperwasalittleout,asitwassometimeswhenhehaddrunktoomuch,nobodylikedtocometoonearhisfist,forhecoulddealaveryheavyblow.

           Thefirstweekofmylifeasacabhorsewasverytrying.IhadneverbeenusedtoLondon,andthenoise,thehurry,thecrowdsofhorses,carts,andcarriagesthatIhadtomakemywaythroughmademefeelanxiousandharassed;butIsoonfoundthatIcouldperfectlytrustmydriver,andthenImademyselfeasyandgotusedtoit.

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