"Calm down, boy!" he would say.

What more could I want? Freedom! For the first four years of my life I had a large field where I could gallop around at full speed -- with no straps, no bit, and no blinkers. Now I stood in a stable, night and day, except when I was wanted for work, and sometimes when John took me out, I felt so strong, so full of life, that I wanted to jump or dance.

Sometimes we did have our freedom in the field for an hour or two. This was on fine Sundays in the summer, because the carriage never went out on Sundays. It was wonderful. The grass was cool and soft to our feet, and the air was so sweet. And we could gallop or lie down or roll over on our backs, or do what we liked.

Then, as soon as we were out of the village, he would let me trot fast for a few miles. Some grooms punished a horse for getting too excited, but not John. He knew how to control me with only the sound of his voice, and I was very fond of him.

One day Ginger asked me about my old home and my training. When I finished telling her, she said, "Life has been different for me. I was taken from my mother when I was young, and there was no kind master like yours to look after me. I had a bad time when I was trained. Several men caught me in a corner of the field and one held my nose so hard that I could only just breathe. Then another pulled my mouth open to put the bit in, and I was pulled along and beaten from behind. They didn't give me a chance to understand what they wanted."

"The new bit was very painful and I pulled away and stood up on my back legs, which made him very angry. He stayed in the saddle and beat me with a whip, but after a long and terrible battle I threw him off and galloped to the other end of the field."

"The old master, Mr Ryder, knew about horses, but he gave up most of the business to his son, who was tall and strong, but not gentle. They called him Samson, and he said that no horse could throw him out of the saddle. One day, he made me run round the field on a long rein until I was very tired and miserable. The next morning he did the same again, then he put a saddle and bridle on me, and a new kind of bit into my mouth."

"I watched him go into the stable, but no one came to fetch me. Time went on and the sun was very hot. I was hungry and very thirsty. At last, just as the sun was going down, the old master came out with some oats. He spoke kindly and held out the oats for me to eat, then patted me gently and looked at the blood on my sides where Samson had whipped me."

"After that, he often came to see me, but a man called Joe went on training me. He was quiet and thoughtful and I soon learned what he wanted."

"After my training," Ginger went on, "I was bought by a dealer to match another horse of my colour. But then we were sold to a man in London who drove us with a bearing rein a rein to hold our heads up unnaturally high and to keep them there, for hours and hours, until the pain was terrible. We had to wear two bits instead of one, and mine was so sharp that it made my mouth bleed. Sometimes we waited for hours while our master or mistress was at parties or the theatre, and if we weren't patient, the driver would whip us."

"Poor girl!" he said, then led me to the stable. Samson was there. "Keep out of the way," said the master. "You've done a bad day's work for this horse with your bad temper. A bad-tempered man will never make a good-tempered horse." He led me into my box and took off my saddle and bridle. Then he called for some warm water and gently cleaned the blood from my sides.

"Didn't your master care about you at all?" I said.

"A dealer heard of me and said he thought he knew one place where I should do well. 'It's wrong for a fine horse to go bad like that,' he said. And I was brought here, not long before you came. Of course, it's very different here. But who knows how long it will last? I've decided that all men are my natural enemies."

"I was sold to another man, but he had a groom as bad-tempered as Samson. He hit me across the legs with his stable brush if I didn't move quickly. I hated him, and one day when he made me angry, I bit him! He never came into my stall after that, and I was soon sold again."

"She'll be as good as Black Eeauty one day," replied John. "Kindness is all she needs, poor thing!"

I was sorry for Ginger, but as the weeks went on, she became happier and more gentle.

"I do believe Ginger is getting quite fond of me," James said one day.

"Only about how we looked," replied Ginger. "He knew very little about horses. The driver told him I had a bad temper but would soon get used to the bearing rein. I was willing to work and learn, but they were so cruel that it made me angry. Then I broke away from the carriage one day, and that was the end of that place."