"I wonder who will come in my place," said James.

"Little Joe Green," said John. "He's only fourteen and a half but he has a kind heart and wants to come, so I've agreed to try him for six weeks."

The rest of our journey was very easy, and the next evening we reached the house of our master's friend, where a groom took us to a comfortable stable. We stayed two or three days, then returned home. John was glad to see us, and we were glad to see him.

The next day, Joe Green came to learn all he could before James left. He was a nice happy boy and always came to work singing. But then the day came when James had to leave us.

"I'm leaving a lot behind," he said sadly to John. "My mother, and you, a good master and mistress, and the horses. And I shan't know anybody at the new place."

Everyone was sorry to lose James, but Joe tried hard to learn, and John was pleased with him.

"It's hard to leave your home for the first time," said John, "but if you get on well-which I'm sure you will-your mother will be proud of you."

One night I woke up to hear the stable bell ringing loudly. I heard the door open at John's house, and his feet running up to the Hall. He was back quickly.

The master was waiting at the Hall door with a letter in his hand. "Ride for your life, John!" he said. "Give this to Dr White, then rest your horse and be back as soon as you can. Mrs Gordon is very ill."

Away went John and I, through the Park, through the village, and down the hill. There was a long piece of flat road by the riverside, and John said, "Now Beauty, do your best!" I needed no whip, and for two miles I galloped as fast as I could-perhaps even faster than my grandfather, who won the race at Newrmarket. When we came to the bridge, John slowed me down a little and patted my neck. "Well done, Beauty!" he said.

"Wake up, Beauty!" he said, coming into the stable. "We must go quickly now!" And before I could think, he had the saddle on my back and the bridle on my head.

Then I was off again, as fast as before. The air was cold and the moon was bright, and it was a pleasant night. We went through a village, then a dark wood, then uphill, then downhill, and after twelve kilometres, we came to the town.

It was three o'clock when we stopped by Dr White's door. John rang the bell, then knocked on the door like thunder. A window was pushed up and Dr White's head appeared. "What do you want?" he said.

"Mrs Gordon is very ill," said John. "You must come at once, or she'll die. Here's a letter."

The doctor was soon at the door. "My horse has been out all day and is exhausted. Can I take yours?"

"I'll soon be ready," said the doctor.

"My master told me to rest him," said John, "but take him if you think it's best, sir."

"You won't need that, sir," said John. "Black Beauty will go until he drops."

John stood by me and patted my neck. I was very hot. Then the doctor came out with his riding whip.

The doctor was a heavier man than John, and not so good a rider, but I did my very best. Joe was waiting at the gate and the master was at the Hall door. He did not say a word. The doctor went into the house with him, and Joe led me to the stable.

My legs were shaking and there was not a dry hair on my body. The water ran down my legs and I was hot all over. Poor Joe! He was young and knew very little. He did the best he could, cleaning my legs and my chest, but he did not put a warm cloth on me; he thought I was so hot that I would not like it. He gave me some cold water to drink, then he gave me some food and went away.

After a long time, I heard John at the door. I gave a low cry, and he was at my side in a moment. I could not tell him how I felt, but he seemed to know immediately. He covered me with three warm cloths, then ran for some hot water and made me a warm drink.

I was very glad to hear that. John told my master that he never saw a horse go so fast.

Soon I began to shake and tremble with cold, and I ached all over. I wished John was there, but he had twelve kilometres to walk, so I tried to sleep.

John seemed very angry. "Stupid boy!" he said to himself, over and over again. "No cloth put on, and I suppose the water was cold too. Boys are no good!"

"My poor Beauty," he said one day. "My good horse, you saved your mistress's life. Yes, you saved her life."

I became very ill, and could not breathe without pain. John looked after me day and night, and my master often came to see me too.

One night, Tom Green, Joe's father, came to help John give me my medicine, then stayed for a while. At first both men were silent, then Tom said, "John, please say a kind word to Joe. The boy is heartbroken; he can't eat his meals, and he can't smile. He knows it's his fault Beauty is ill, but he did his best. He says if Beauty dies, no one will ever speak to him again. But he's not a bad boy."

I heard no more of this conversation, as the medicine did well and sent me to sleep, and in the morning I fell much better.

After a short pause, John said, "I know he meant no harm, but I'm proud of that horse, and I hate to think his life may be thrown away like this. But I'll give the boy a kind word tomorrow, if Beauty is better."

The letter was delivered and we were returning through a field where we saw a cart full of bricks. They were so heavy that the wheels of the cart were half buried in the soft ground, and the horses could not move the cart at all. The man leading the horses was shouting and whipping them without stopping.

Joe learned quickly after this, and was so careful that John began to give him many things to do. One day, John was out and the master wanted a letter taken immediately to a gentleman's house about five kilometres away. He told Joe to saddle me and take it.

"Don't whip the horses like that," Joe shouted at him. "The wheels are half buried and won't move. I'll help you take some bricks out to make the cart lighter."

Joe turned me, and we galloped towards the house of the brickmaker, Mr Clay. Joe knocked on the door.

"I will!" said the man, and hurried off.

"Mind your own business!" said the man angrily. He was in a terrible temper and more than half drunk.

"You did the right thing," said John. "Many people would ride by and say it was none of their business. But cruelty is everybody's business."

When we got home, Joe told John all about it.

Just before dinner, the master sent for Joe. The drunken man was accused of cruelty to horses and Joe was wanted to tell his story to the police.

"There's a man in your field whipping two horses to death!" Joe told him, his voice shaking with anger. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't. I offered to help him lighten the cart, but he refused. I think he's drunk. Please go, sir!"

"I'll tell it gladly," said Joe.

We heard afterwards that the poor horses were so exhausted and so badly beaten that the man might have to go to prison.

Joe came across and gave me a friendly pat. "We won't allow cruelty, will we, old friend?" he said.

The door opened. "Hallo, young man," began Mr Clay.

And he seemed to have grown up suddenly.