I was sold to a corn dealer and baker whom Jerry knew. The food was good, but the foreman always wanted more put on the cart, even when I already had a full load. My carter, Jakes, said it was more than I should pull, but the foreman never listened. Jakes, like the other carters, always used the bearing rein, so I could not pull easily, and after a few months the work began to wear me down.
One day the load was heavier than usual, and the road went steeply uphill. I used all my strength, but I had to stop again and again. Jakes whipped me hard. “Get on, you lazy thing,” he said, “or I’ll make you.”
The pain was sharp, but my heart hurt as much as my sides. To be punished when I was doing my very best took all the heart out of me. He was whipping me a third time when a lady stepped quickly up to him.
“Oh, please don’t whip your good horse any more,” she said in a sweet, serious voice. “I am sure he is doing his best.”
“If his best won’t get this load up, he must do more than his best, ma’am,” said Jakes.
“He cannot use all his strength with his head held back by that bearing rein,” she said. “If you take it off, I am sure he will do better. Do try it.”
“Well, well,” said Jakes, with a short laugh, “anything to please a lady.”
The bearing rein was taken off, and at once I put my head down almost to my knees. What a relief it was! Then Jakes took the reins. “Come on, Blackie.” I put my head down and threw my whole weight into the collar. The load moved, and I pulled it steadily up the hill.
The lady came and patted my neck, as nobody had patted me for a long time. “You see, he was quite willing when you gave him the chance. You won’t put that rein on again, will you?”
“Well, ma’am, it did help him. But without a bearing rein the other carters would laugh at me. It’s the fashion, you see.”
“Isn’t it better to start a good fashion than to follow a bad one?” she said. “We call them dumb animals, and so they are, because they cannot tell us how they feel. But they do not suffer less because they have no words.” She gave my neck another soft pat and went on her way, and I never saw her again.
After that Jakes always loosened the bearing rein when we went uphill. But the heavy loads went on, and no horse can stand overloading. I grew so weak that a younger horse was bought in my place.
The stable was almost dark, too, and the bright daylight hurt my eyes so much that I stumbled. If I had stayed much longer, I might have lost my sight. But I got away in time: I was sold to a big cab owner.