It was Ginger! But how different she looked! Her face, which was once so full of life, was now miserable and full of pain, and her breathing was very bad.

One day we were waiting outside one of the London parks when a dirty old cab drove up beside ours. The horse was brown, with bones that showed through her coat. I was eating some hay and the wind took a little of it her way. The poor animal put out her long thin neck and picked it up, then turned and looked for more. There was a hopeless look in her dull eye and I wondered where I'd seen her before. Then she looked straight at me.

"Black Beauty, is that you?" she said.

I moved closer to her so that we could have a quiet talk, and it was a sad story that she told me. After twelve months'rest at Earlshall she was considered to be ready to work again, and was sold to a gentleman. She got on well for a little while, but after a long gallop one day, she became ill again. She was rested, was seen by a horse doctor, then sold. In this way, she went from owner to owner several times, each one poorer than the one before.

"You used to stand up and fight when people were cruel to you," I said.

"So at last I was bought by a man who keeps a number of cabs and horses, and hires them out," said Ginger. "You look happy and comfortable with life as a cab horse, and I'm glad, but it's different for me. They whip me and work me seven days a week. They say that they paid more for me than I was worth, and now they're trying to get their money back by working me until I drop."

"Yes, I did once," said Ginger. "But men are stronger than we are, and if they're cruel and have no feelings, then there's nothing we can do about it. Oh, I wish the end would come. I wish I was dead."

I was very sad. I put my nose against hers but could find nothing to say that would cheer her up. I think she was pleased to see me, because she said, "You're the only friend I ever had."

A few weeks after this, a cart with a dead horse in it passed by our cab stand. It was a brown horse with a long thin neck, and I believe it was Ginger. I hoped it was, because then her troubles would be over.

After another journey or two, we came back to the cab stand and Jerry gave me some food, saying, "We must eat when we can on days like this, Jack." And he took out the meat and bread Polly had given him.

But neither of us had eaten many mouthfuls before a poor young woman came along the street. She was carrying a child and she looked lost and worried.

There was one day when we were very busy. First a fat gentleman with a large bag wanted to go to Bishopsgate Station; then we were called by a lady who wanted to be taken to Regent's Park; then a man jumped into the cab and called out, "Bow Street Police Station, quick!"

"Can you tell me the way to St Thomas's Hospital, please?" she asked. "I have to take my little boy there, and I'm a stranger in London." The little boy was crying as she spoke. "He's in great pain and can't walk, but the doctor says that if I can get him to the hospital, then perhaps he'll get well again."

"You can't carry him through the crowds," said Jerry. "It's five kilometres, and that child is heavy."

"Oh, how kind you are!" said the woman, and began to cry.

"I'm strong," said the woman. "I think I can manage, if I know the way."

"No, sir, I can't do that," she said. "I've only just enough money to get me home again."

"Listen," said Jerry. "I've got a wife and children at home, and I'd be ashamed of myself if I let a woman and a sick child put themselves in danger. Get in the cab and I'll take you for nothing."

"You can't do it. Just get into this cab and I'll drive you there. Don't you see that it's beginning to rain?"

Jerry opened the door but two men ran up, calling out, "Cab!"

"Lady!" said one of the men unpleasantly, looking at the woman's poor clothes. "She can wait. Our business is very important, and anyway, we were in first, and we'll stay in."

"It's taken," said Jerry, but one man pushed past the woman and jumped in, followed by the other. "This cab is already taken, gentlemen," Jerry said again, "by this lady."

A smile came over Jerry's face as he shut the cab door. "Stay in as long as you like, gentlemen. I can wait while you rest yourselves." He walked over to the young woman who was standing nearby. "They'll soon be gone, don't worry," he said, laughing.

And he was right. When the two men realized that they were going to have a very long wait, they got out, calling Jerry all kinds of bad names. After this, we were soon on our way to the hospital.

"Thank you a thousand times," said the young woman, as Jerry helped her out of the cab.

"Jerry Barker, is it you?" said the woman. "I'm very glad to find you here. It's difficult to get a cab in this part of London today."

"I hope your child will soon be better," said Jerry. He watched her go in, then patted my neck. It was something he always did when he was pleased.

"I'll be proud to take you," said Jerry. "Where do you want to go?"

"Paddington Station," said the woman.

We got to the station and went in under cover. The lady stood beside the cab talking to Jerry for some time, and I discovered that she was once Polly's mistress.

The rain was now coming down fast and, just as we were leaving the hospital, a lady came down the steps calling,"Cab!" Jerry seemed to know her at once.

"How do you like cab work in the winter?" she asked Jerry. "Polly was worried about your cough last year."

Jerry thanked her and, after leaving the station, we went

"It would be wrong to harm your health in this work when you have a wife and two children," said the lady. "There are many places where good drivers or grooms are wanted. If you ever decide to give up cab work, let me know." She put something into his hand. "There's some money for the children."

"She worries because I work all hours and in all kinds of weather,"said Jerry. "But I get on all right, and I would be lost without horses to look after."

Christmas and the New Year are no holidays for cab drivers and their horses. People go to parties and dances, and th6 work is often late Sometimes driver and horse have to wait for hours, shaking with cold.

We had a lot of late work during Christmas week and Jerry's cough was bad. On New Year's Eve we took two gentlemen to a house in the West End, and were told to come for them at eleven'o clock. "You may have to wait a few minutes, but don't be late," one of them said.

Jerry arrived at the right time and we waited. The wind was very cold and it was snowing. Jerry pulled one of my cloths higher over my neck, then walked up and down, trying to keep warm.

Two days passed, and only Harry and Dolly came to the stable. On the third day, Mr Grant from the cab stand arrived when Harry was in the stable. "I won't go to the house, boy, but how is your father?" he said.

At one o'clock the door opened and two men came out. They got in the cab without a word, and told Jerry where to drive. It was three kilometres away, and when the men got out they didn't say they were sorry for the long wait, but they were angry when Jerry made them pay for the extra waiting time. But it was money hard-earned.

At half past twelve, Jerry rang the doorbell and asked if the gentlemen still wanted the cab. The man at the door said, "Oh, yes, you'll be wanted."

It was late the next morning before anyone came, and then it was only Harry. He cleaned us and gave us our food but was very quiet. Later that morning he came again, and this time Dolly came with him. She was crying, and I discovered from their conversation that Jerry was dangerously ill.

When we got home, Jerry could not speak, and his cough was terrible, but he groomed me and made sure that I was warm and comfortable.

"He's very bad," said Harry.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Mr Grant. "He's the best man I know."

"Thank God!" said Mr Grant. He was a kind man, and did a lot to help the family during this time, because while Jerry was ill, he was earning no money, and we all had to eat.

But when he came the next day, Harry was able to tell him, "Father is better today. Mother hopes he will get over it soon."

This was bad news for me. I was not young now, and could not hope for a better master than Jerry, although Mr Grant promised to find a comfortable place for me.

"There's a letter from Mrs Fowler, mother's old mistress!" said Dolly. "She wants father to be her carriage driver, and we're going to live in a cottage in the country with chickens, and apple trees, and everything!"

Jerry got slowly better, but the doctor said he must never do cab work again. The children talked a lot about what their mother and father would do, but a few days later Dolly ran into the stable to find Harry.

I never saw Jerry again and was very sorry to leave.