I was sold to a farmer at the horse fair, but it was his young grandson who persuaded him to buy me.

"Poor thing!" said the boy. "Do you think he was ever a carriage horse, grandfather?"

The two of them walked past me and, seeing kindness in the farmer's face, I lifted my head, put my ears forward and tried to look my best.

Five pounds changed hands and, soon after, I was taken to my new home. The farmer gave orders for me to have hay and oats every night and morning, and I was let out into a large field in the daytime. Willie, the young boy, was responsible for me, and he came to see me every day, bringing carrots or apples.

The farmer stopped and looked at me. "There's a horse, Willie, that has known better days," he said.

"Oh, yes," said the farmer. "Look at his fine head and the shape of his neck and shoulder." He reached out a hand and patted me on the neck. I put out my nose in answer to his kindness, and the boy gently put his hand against my face.

"Look how well he understands kindness," said the boy. "Won't you buy him, and make him young and strong again?"

The man who was selling me said, "The boy can recognize a good horse, sir. This one isn't old, just tired and thin from too much work. In six months, he'll be fine."

During that winter, the rest, the good food, the soft grass and gentle running and trotting all helped to make me feel quite young again. When the spring came, the farmer tried me with a carriage, and I did the work quite easily.

"He's growing young, Willie," he said. "We'll give him some gentle work and look for a good home for him."

"I hope the ladies like him," said the farmer.

One day during this summer, the groom cleaned and dressed me with special care, and Willie seemed half worried and half excited as he got into the carriage with his grandfather.

A kilometre or two beyond the village, we came to a pretty house, and Willie went to knock on the door. He asked if Miss Blomefield and Miss Ellen were at home. They were, and Willie stayed with me while the farmer went into the house. He came back about ten minutes later with three ladies. They seemed to like me, but one of them, worried by my knees, wondered if I was safe.

"It's true his knees were broken once," said the farmer, "but we don't know why he fell. It was probably a careless driver, and not the horse's fault at all. He seems very safe to me. If you like him, you can try him for a few weeks," he went on. "Then your driver will see what he thinks of him."

The next morning, a young man came for me. He looked pleased until he saw my knees, then he said, "I'm surprised you suggested this horse to my ladies."

One of the three ladies -- a tall, white-faced lady, who held the arm of a younger woman -- said, "You have always given us good advice about our horses, so we accept your offer to try him."

"You're only taking him to try him," said the farmer. "If he's not as safe as any horse you ever drove, send him back, young man."

The next day, the groom was cleaning my face when he said, "That's just like the star that Black Beauty had on his forehead. I wonder where he is now." He looked more closely at me. "White star on the forehead, one white foot -- and a little white place on his back! It must be Black Beauty! Beauty! Do you know me? I'm little Joe Green, who almost killed yon!" And he began patting me all over my back.

I was taken to a comfortable stable, given some food, then left to myself

I could not say I remembered him, as he was now a fine young man with a black moustache and a deep voice. But I was sure he knew me, and that he was Joe Green, and I was very glad. I put my nose up to him and tried to say that we were friends. I never saw a man so pleased.

That afternoon, I was harnessed to a carriage for Miss Ellen to try me. Joe Green went with her and told her that he was sure I was Mr Gordon's old Black Beauty.

I have now lived in this happy place a whole year. Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. My work is easy and pleasant, and I feel my strength coming back again.

"I shall write to Mrs Gordon and tell her that her favourite horse has come to us," said Miss Ellen. "How pleased she will be!"

The ladies have promised that they will never sell me, and so I have nothing to fear; and here my story ends. My troubles are all over, and I am at home; and often, before I am quite awake, I dream I am still in the field at Birtwick, standing with my old friends under the apple trees.