Chap. V.

At the close of our first day’s journey, ascending a steep hill, I could not help remarking the exertions of the horses, and condemning myself for sitting contentedly while they were obliged to perform such painful labour. I proposed quitting the chaise,²⁶ and walking to the summit of the acclivity; Mr. Hanbury acceded to the suggestion, and, with eager alacrity, I leaped from the vehicle, which seemed considerably lightened by the step which I had taken. The post-boy²⁷ thanked me; and as we continued to ascend, the conversation became general; the lad, though of simple manners, evidently possessed a mild and compassionating heart. He lamented the sufferings of animals, whose weary limbs could scarcely perform the task allotted them*. ‘This beast,’ said he, pointing to the shaft-horse, ‘has won many a plate at Newmarket, and had grooms to attend him; and, in his young days, was the pride of his pedigree. Poor fellow!’ continued the post-boy, ‘he is out of favour now, and forced to put up with hard usage.’