BLUEBEARD, THE SHETLAND PONY.
Our donkey, Neddy, was never replaced; but instead of him we had a farbetter pet, a beautiful little Shetland pony! We had left Ireland, andwent to live in England; we had a nice garden, a paddock and somefields, and a stable; and when we saw all this, we ran to Papa andbegged that we might now have another donkey, as there was plenty ofroom for him. But Papa said we might now very well ride a pony, andthat he would look out for a nice one. Shortly after this he went to alarge horse-fair at Doncaster, and almost before he could have arrivedthere, we began to look out and watch for his return with the pony.
We made all kinds of guesses about the size and the colour that thepony would be, and wrote out a long list of names suitable for aShetland. I wished that it might be black, and my sister wished for acream colour; but I believe that no such thing exists as acream-coloured Shetland. And after all our expectation, Papa came homeso late, that we did not see him that night.
We besieged his door next morning, shouting, "Did you find a pony? Haveyou bought the pony?" Yes, a pony had come, but we were not to look athim until Papa came down; and after breakfast, Papa sent for it to thedining-room window. Oh! what a nice little roly-poly of rough hair itwas. It was very small, and its funny little face peeped out from theshaggy bunch of hair over its eyes, in such a sly way. Its mane was acomplete bush, and its tail just swept along the ground. And all overits body the coat was so thick and soft, and so long, that the legslooked quite short and dumpy. Altogether, it was the most darlinglittle fellow any one could imagine; its colour was dark-brown, and itsmane and tail nearly black.
Papa promised to get a nice saddle and bridle for it, as we declaredthat Neddy's old pad was so shabby, that it would be a shame to put iton this little beauty. But, meantime, we were well satisfied to use it,and commenced our rides forthwith; scarcely a day passed without ourmaking a long excursion. Sometimes Mamma walked with us, and sometimesonly nurse; we used to trot along the road for some distance, and thencanter back again to Mamma, so that we had a long ride, whilst she onlytook a moderate walk; and we soon had explored every lane and bye-roadnear our new home.
After much debate about the pony's name, we had fixed on two or three,and finding that we could not agree on the important subject, we wroteout the names on slips of paper, and drew lots. "Bluebeard" was thename that we drew the oftenest, so that was decided; and as he reallyhad a very long beard, we thought it very appropriate.
Although Bluebeard was a decided beauty, it must be confessed that hehad a great number of tricks, and was not the best-behaved pony in theworld. When we were out riding, if we met any carts on the road, or inpassing through the streets, Mamma or nurse used to lead him by thebridle; this _we_ used to consider a great affront to our horsemanship,and Bluebeard, doubtless, thought it an affront to himself, for hecould not bear to be led; he shook his head, and tried to get thebridle out of their hand, and failing to do so, he revenged himself bybiting and tearing Mamma's shawl or dress; and our poor nurse hadscarcely a gown left that was not in rents and holes from Bluebeard'steeth; she said it took her half her time to mend her clothes, for shenever went out with us and returned with her clothes whole. This amusedus very much; but Mamma thought she should have liked Bluebeard betterif he had been less playful.
With good living, and the care that was lavished on him in our stable,he soon became fatter, and very frisky, so full of wild spirits andplay, that we could not quite manage him. So Mamma had a very smallbasket-work carriage made, just to fit Bluebeard; it was painteddark-blue, and was very pretty; it had two seats, so just carried us,and Mamma and nurse.
Now we drove out one day, and rode the next; the carriage was so low,that we could jump in and out as Bluebeard trotted along; and we likedto run, holding on by the back, to see whether we could run as fast asBluebeard at his fastest trot; and when we jumped out, he used to turnhis head round and look for us, and sometimes made a full stop till wegot in again. Mamma thought that the heavier work of drawing thecarriage with four people in it, would prevent Bluebeard from becomingtoo frisky and unmanageable, as, certainly, it was far greater labourfor him than a quiet trot with only myself or sister on his back; but Ibelieve that the more work he had, the more corn he ate, for hescampered along with the carriage as if it were nothing at all, andgrew more and more skittish. It was very amusing to watch for donkeysas we drove along the roads, for he could not bear to meet one; if hespied the long ears at a little distance, he used to fling up his head,stand still for an instant, and then turn sharply round, and rush awayin the opposite direction to the offending object; this he did whetherwe were riding or in the carriage. It signified but little when werode; for all that happened was our tumbling off, when he twitchedhimself round; and as he met Mamma and nurse a little way back on theroad, he was always stopped.
But in the carriage it was a very awkward trick, and we should oftenhave been upset, had not the front wheels turned completely under thebody of the carriage, so Bluebeard could twist round, and put his headquite inside without upsetting us.
Once or twice, when going up a hill, a donkey suddenly put up his headfrom behind the hedge. Round flew Bluebeard with such a jerk, as nearlyto throw us out of the carriage, and having whisked us round, he toredown the hill at a furious rate. All that could be done on suchoccasions, was for one of us to jump out and hold his head before hehad time to turn round; and, therefore, we always kept a sharp look outfor donkeys on the road. This dread of Bluebeard's was the morestrange, as he was extremely friendly with a poor half-starved donkeythat was sometimes put into the same field with him. He used to rub hishead against it, talk to it, (that is, hold their noses near together),and seemed quite to like its company. But any other donkey inspired himwith downright terror. Another bad trick when in the carriage, waskicking, which he often did, sometimes throwing his heels so high thathe got them over the shaft, and then we had the fun of unharnessing himcompletely, in order to put him in again.
It sometimes took a very long time to catch him, though the field wasvery small; he would come close to the groom, and when he put out hishand to catch him, he would give his head a toss and gallop off roundthe field; now and then, when weary of his fruitless attempts atcatching him, the groom would set the field-gate wide open, andBluebeard would dart through it, along the lane, and up the hill to ourhouse. But it was rather a risk doing so, as it was quite a chancewhether he would go home, or in any other direction.
When he was fairly in the stable, and cleaning and harnessing hadcommenced, he by no means ceased from his playful tricks: he would rollin the straw with his legs kicking up; then he would bounce about inall directions, to prevent the bridle from being put on; and shake hishead till all his shaggy mane fell over his eyes.
All this was meant for play and fun; but the groom often wasreprimanded for unpunctuality, in not bringing the carriage to the doorfor half-an-hour or more after the time when it was ordered. Certainly,if Bluebeard would not be caught, and then would not be harnessed, itwas not the groom's fault. However, he began to be very sharp and crosswith the pony; and once pulling him roughly up from sprawling on hisback, instead of standing still to be combed, Bluebeard dashed his headat him and gave him a bad bite on the chest.
When Mamma came out to put a plaister on the bite, she was very angry,and said that if Bluebeard bit in his play, she could not allow us tokeep him; and she desired that he should not have half so much corn.
But I do believe the groom paid no attention to this order, and gavehim just as much as before; for the wicked little pony never became onebit quieter, and we often had to beg hard that sentence of dismissalshould not be pronounced.
Whenever Papa had time to take us riding with him, or could spare hishorse for the groom, we had a nice ride, Bluebeard having a long reinwhich Papa or the groom held, we found that he went a great deal betterthan when Mamma walked with us; indeed, he had then no time to playtricks, for it was as much as he could do to keep up with the greathorse, whose wa
lk matched with our gentle trotting; his trot to ourcantering; and when the horse cantered, Bluebeard was put to his fullspeed.
We enjoyed these rides immensely; but, unluckily, they were few and farbetween, as the horse could be spared very seldom; therefore, we stillcontinued our plan of Mamma walking, and we riding by turns; and it wasa great excitement to us, watching for Bluebeard's tricks, for we weremuch afraid of his being sent away as too tiresome; and we tried in allways to prevent and to conceal his delinquencies.
I very frequently went over his head, for he liked to go precisely theway he chose; and if we came to a turning in the road, and I pulled thebridle in one direction, Bluebeard was certain to insist on going theother. Then he tugged, and I tugged; but his neck was so strong, andhis mouth so hard, that I seldom could succeed in making him go my way;and unless some one came to my assistance, the dispute generally endedby Bluebeard putting his head between his legs, and pitching me overhis head.
My sister suggested that the best way to manage him would be always tourge him to go the way we did not wish, and he, being certain to differfrom us, would take, as his own choice, the road that we reallyintended.
This was the same plan as that suggested for refractory pigs, who willnever go forwards; viz., to pull them backwards, when they will at oncemake a bolt in the desired direction.
But I objected, that it was a shabby way of proceeding to manage him bydeceit, and I preferred being flung over his head in open contest; andthe plan was given up as too cowardly; and as my rolls were generallyin the soft sandy lanes or on the grass by the road side, I never wasin the least hurt.
My sister, too, had several tumbles which made us laugh very much.
We came once to a place where three lanes met, and Mamma called out tomy sister, who was riding some way in front, to turn to the right; soshe pulled the rein, and, as a matter of course, Bluebeard shook hismane, tossed his head about, and intimated that he intended to turndown the opposite lane to the left. Then my sister pulled and pulled,whipping Bluebeard at the same time; but his coat was so immenselythick, that he really did not feel a switch the least in the world,especially from a little arm like my sister's. So he did not stir, butkept twisting his head along the left-hand lane.
"He will kick in a minute," I said; and Mamma ran quickly to take holdof his bridle.
When naughty little Bluebeard felt her touch the rein, he made a boltdown the lane so suddenly, that he dragged Mamma down on the ground,and flinging up his heels at the same time, sent my sister flying, andshe came down upon Mamma; so there they were rolling over each other inthe dusty lane.
Bluebeard scampered a short way down the lane and then came back to us,whisking his tail, as if to say, "You might as well have come my way atonce, without causing all this fuss."
And whilst we were employed in shaking the dust off Mamma's andsister's clothes, he stood looking at us in a triumphant kind ofmanner.
But after all, he did not have his own way; for when my sister wasmounted again, Mamma took the bridle and led him down the lane to theright and all the way home; and he was not in favour with Mamma forsome time after.
When the winter came on, his coat grew so thick and heavy, and his maneand tail so bushy and long, that he really looked like a great bundleof hair rolling along the road; for his legs scarcely showed as high ashis knee. As for his eyes, it was a mystery how he saw at all; for theywere not visible, except when we pulled back the hair to look at them:there never was such a curious rolypoly-looking little creature.
When the cold of the winter was passing away, it was agreed thatBluebeard had better be clipped, his coat being really much too heavy;no sheep's fleece could have weighed more.
So we had the pleasure of seeing the little fellow carefully shorn ofhis thick dress; his long bushy tail was left at our particularrequest, and also plenty of mane; we liked that, because we found it agreat help to clutch a handful of mane, when he tried to kick us off;but his eyes were left free to look out, and very saucy they looked.
We were astonished to find how small he looked, and how thin andelegant his stumpy little legs appeared, we thought they scarcelyseemed strong enough to bear our weight; and in the carriage he wouldappear a perfect shrimp.
Then his colour was entirely altered. Instead of dark brown, he was nowa pale sort of grey; indeed, we could scarcely believe that the samepony was before us.
He did not look so droll and round, but much prettier; and we feltquite proud of him the next time we rode out with Papa.
When he was next put into the pony-carriage, he almost appeared toosmall for it; and one bad effect of clipping him was, that he evidentlyfelt so light and unshackled, that he could not restrain his wish toprance and jump; he now perpetually was kicking his legs over theshafts; and so, two or three times during a drive, we unharnessed himbefore we could replace him where he ought to be--between the shafts;instead of having his fore legs inside, and his hind legs outside.
Mamma said that this was dangerous, and that she feared Bluebeard mighteither break his own legs by this trick, or would upset the carriageand break ours. And we began to fear that Bluebeard would some daybring on his own dismissal.
One day, Mamma rode Bluebeard herself; and in spite of the greaterweight, which he must have found very different from that of such smallchildren as my sister and myself, Bluebeard kicked so much, and behavedaltogether in such an improper manner, that Mamma declared he was nolonger a safe pony for such young children, and said she should expectto see us brought home with fractured skulls or broken limbs, if wewere allowed to ride him.
All our beggings and prayings had no effect. Bluebeard was sold to aman in the neighbouring town.
When this man said that he wanted the pony for a little boy to ride,Mamma said that he was too ill-broken and too unmanageable for anychild, and that she did not wish to sell him for that purpose.
But he said that he intended to tie the boy tightly on to the saddle,and should make a groom walk with him with a long rein; and then shouldhave no fear about the boy's safety. And he bought him, notwithstandingMamma's warning.
We were so sorry to see the poor little fellow led away; our onlyconsolation was, that in a year or two we should become too big forBluebeard; and then, at any rate, we must have parted with him.
Now and then we saw the little boy riding him; and the groom that waswith him showed us that he was strapped on to the saddle by a strapacross each thigh, and also a strap below each knee; so that it wasreally impossible that he should fall off.
Mamma said it was not at all safe for a child to be fastened in thatway; for if Bluebeard should take into his head to roll on his back, hewould most probably kill the child. But as she had warned the father,and had told him of all the pony's bad tricks, it was no longer heraffair to say anything about him, or to meddle with his arrangements.
It was a long time before Papa met with a pony to suit us better. Thenext one was to be so large, that he would last us for many years; hemust be frisky enough to be pleasant and amusing, and yet must have nobad tricks; no kicking and running away; and, above all, he must bevery pretty indeed, with long tail and mane.
All these qualities were not so easy to find combined; and before Italk about the next pony, I will mention some of our other pets.
So good bye to dear little naughty Bluebeard.