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                    I asked why Ginger bit people, and Merrylegs answered, ‘Ginger’s




                                      © MM Publications
                 old master was unkind to her, and that’s why she bites. But everyone
                       here is very kind. There is no reason to bite! Mr Gordon doesn’t use
                       whips; John Manly is an excellent groom and James the stable boy is
                       very kind too! Ginger has got no reason to bite.’
                          The next day, I met the groom again. He brushed my coat and
                       made me look very handsome. He put a saddle and bridle on me
                       and took me for a ride. He was a very good and careful rider, and I
                       enjoyed galloping with him. As we were returning to the stables, we
                       met Mr and Mrs Gordon, who were walking together.
                          John pulled the reins and we stopped. ‘Well, John, how is he?’
                       asked Mr Gordon.
                          ‘He’s a good horse, sir! He’s fast, obedient and gentle too,’ said
                       John. ‘He isn’t scared of sudden noises, and he’s careful and quiet.
                       From what it seems, they taught him well and treated him with
                       kindness.’
                          ‘Very well,’ said Mr Gordon. ‘I’ll ride him tomorrow.’
                          The next day, Mr Gordon rode me just as he had promised. I
                       remembered my mother’s important advice and tried hard to please
                       my new master. He was a good and thoughtful rider.
                          When we got home, Mrs Gordon was waiting for us. ‘What is he
                       like, dear? Did you enjoy your ride?’ she asked.
                       like, dear? Did you enjoy your ride?’ she asked.
                          ‘He’s exactly as John says,’ said Mr Gordon.
                          ‘He’s exactly as John says,’ said Mr Gordon.
                       ‘I couldn’t hope for a better horse. What shall
                       we call him?’
                          Mrs Gordon looked at me. ‘Well, he is
                       really very handsome,’ she said. ‘Let’s call him
                       really very handsome,’ she said. ‘Let’s call him
                       Beauty. And look at his shiny black colour.
                       Why don’t we call him Black Beauty?’
                          ‘Yes, that’s a very good name,’ he said.















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