Chapter-16
One day, Mr Bennete arrived. He offered Jerry to hire his cab for the election.
Jerry didn’t want his cab to be covered with posters all over. He asked his wife to say to Mr Bennete that the cab was already hired.
On the morning before the election, Jerry was putting me into the shafts of the cab when little Dolly came into the yard sobbing and crying. Her little blue frock and white pinafore were splattered with mud. “Why Dolly, what is the matter dear?” asked Jerry.
“Those naughty boys,” she sobbed, “they threw dirt all over me and called me a little ragga.”
“They called her a little blue raggamuffin, father,” said Harry who ran in, looking very angry, “but I gave it to them. They won’t insult my sister again. I gave them a thrashing they won’t forget, those cowardly, rascally orange blackguards!”
We had much work during the coming election days. At last, the day of election came.
There were many who were going to Bishop Gate Station and Regent’s Park. There were some others who were going to the bank.
Just as we reached the bank, a gentleman came running with a roll of papers. He hired our cab to Bow Street Station. The very next second, he had his seat.
There was so much rush on the roads that people found it difficult to walk. I even saw two of them colliding with each other.
That was the first election I had witnessed. I wished I shouldn’t see another election.
At home, as I was having my oats and bran and Jerry, his pie, he noticed a lady with a child approaching us. She was not aware of the roads there. So, she asked Jerry the way to St Thomas hospital for her child’s treatment. Jerry said that she could not reach there on foot and proposed to take her by the cab. But the lady didn’t have much money to pay. Still, Jerry proposed to help her.
As I took the first step, two candidates came running to hire us. Though Jerry told them that it was already engaged yet they pushed the lady aside and boarded the cab.
Jerry protested and left the cab. Finally, the men had to leave, and Jerry and I started for St. Thomas hospital.
Hardly had we covered a little distance when a porter at the exit of the hospital stopped us. Soon I came to know that the lady was familiar to Jerry. She had to go to Paddington Station. Actually, Polly was a maid at the lady’s place before Jerry married her. All the way, Jerry kept telling her about Polly, Dolly and Harry.
She even proposed to give him a job of a groom or a driver if he wished to leave driving the cab. At Paddington station, she left us.
Soon it was Christmas. There was too much work. People enjoyed and we toiled taking ladies and gentlemen to parties and balls. Sometimes the drivers had to wait outside the amusement centres in cold while the customers enjoyed themselves.
Captain had left us by then. We had been replaced by a five-year-old horse named Hotspur. He had met with an accident. Due to the scars, he had been sold to the cab-driver.
Hotspur went out during day while I worked in evenings.
On the New Year’s Eve, two gentlemen hired us to Grand Square in the West End.
It was nine o’clock when we reached there and were asked to return for them at eleven o’clock.
It was half past twelve o’clock and the cold was getting on our nerves.
Finally, Jerry rang the bell and asked if the cab was required. They asked us to stay.
They returned at half past one. Without giving any explanation they asked us to leave.
It was too late when we reached home and woke up late next morning. Harry came to wash me and Hotspur up. Then in the afternoon, Dolly accompanied him to give us food.
I felt something wrong. Jerry wasn’t well. Soon it was discovered that Jerry was suffering from bronchitis.
His cough was dreadful. Jerry talked in a scratchy whisper. He could barely get his breath, but he still gave me a rub-down as he always did. He even went up in the hayloft for an extra bundle of straw for my bed.
Polly brought me some warm grain that made me comfortable; then they locked the door.
It was late the next morning before anyone came, and then it was only Harry. He didn’t whistle or sing like he always did. At noon, he came again. This time Dolly came with him and she was crying. From what I could tell, Jerry was very sick.
Two days passed. We saw only Harry and sometimes Dolly, since Polly had to stay by Jerry’s side. On the third day, while Harry was in the stable, there was a soft tap at the door. Governor Grant came in.
“I won’t bother anyone up at the house,” he said to Harry, “but I was wondering how Jerry was.”
“He is very bad,” said Harry, “He can’t get much worse. They call it bronchitis. The doctor thinks it will turn one way or another tonight.”
“That’s very bad,” agreed the Governor, shaking his head, “I know two men who died of bronchitis last week. But let’s hope for the best for your father. If there’s any rule that good men should get over these things, I’m sure he will; he’s the best man I know. I’ll look in on him early tomorrow.”
Early next morning, he was there. “How is your father?” he said.
“Father is better,” said Harry, “Mother hopes he will get over it.”
“Thank God!” said the Governor, “Now you must keep him warm, and keep him from worrying about the horses. You see, Jack will be fine with a week of rest in a warm stable. You can take him up and down the road to stretch his legs. But this young one—if he does not get work, he will get wild. He will be too much for you, and when he does go out, there may be an accident.”
“It’s like that now,” said Harry, “He’s so full of spirit that I don’t know what to do with him.”
“I thought so,” said the Governor, “Now, please tell your mother that I will come for him every day if she agrees. I will work him, and whatever he earns, I will give your mother half of it. That will help out with the horse’s feed. I’ll come at noon and hear what she has to say.” Without waiting for Harry’s thanks, he had gone.
At noon, he and Harry came to the stable together. They harnessed Hotspur and took him out.
For a week or more, he came for Hotspur. When Harry thanked him, or said anything about his kindness, he laughed it off and said his own horses needed a little rest anyway.
Jerry slowly got better, but the doctor said he could never go back to the cab work again. The family talked many times about what they would do for money.
One afternoon, Hotspur was brought in very wet and dirty.
“The streets are nothing but slush,” said the Governor.
While Harry was sponging the mud from Hotspur’s body and legs, Dolly came in, bubbling with joy.
“Who lives at Fairstowe, Harry? Mother got a letter from Fairstowe. She seemed very happy about it and ran upstairs to tell father.”
“That is Mrs Fowler’s place. Do you remember when father met her last summer and she sent you and me money? She was mother’s old mistress.”
“Oh, I remember now. But I wonder what she is writing Mother about.”
“Mother wrote to her last week,” said Harry, “You know, she had told father if he ever gave up the cab work, she would like to be told. Go and see what she says, Dolly.”
Harry continued to rub away at Hotspur. In a few minutes, Dolly came dancing into the stable.
“Oh Harry, Mrs Fowler says we all are to go and live near her. There is an empty cottage that will be perfect for us. It has a garden, and a hen-house, and apple trees, and everything. Her coachman is going away in the spring, and she will want father to take his place. There are good families around, where you could work in a garden or stable or even at the main house. And there’s a good school for me. Mother is laughing and crying the same time. And father looks so happy.”
“That’s wonderful!” Harry said, “That’s uncommon jolly and just the right thing, I should say. It will suit both father and mother. But I don’t intend to be a page-boy with tight clothes and rows of buttons. I will be either a groom or a gardener.”
It was quickly settled that they would move to the country as soon as Jerry was well enough. The cab and the horses were to be sold as soon as possible. That was big news for me, for I was not young any more. My three years of cab work, even under the best conditions, had been hard. I felt I needed some rest and that I was not the horse I had been.
Mr Grant said that he would take Hotspur. And he promised to find a home for me where I should be comfortable.
The day came soon when we would leave. Jerry had not been allowed to go out yet, and I never saw him after that New Year’s Eve. Polly and the children came to tell me goodbye. They all wished they could take me with them. Polly put her hand on my mane and her face close to my neck. “Poor old Jack,” she said. Dolly was crying. Harry stroked me softly, but said nothing. They all seemed very sad as I was led away to my new place.
