Talking Horses is a series of extracts from novels, poems and short stories both classic and obscure that feature fictional horses who enter into the conversation.
The Memoirs of Dick, the little poney, supposed to be written by himself (1799) by Anon.
Why I was called Dick, I know not. The appellation was given me when in the society of the vagrants, who principally bred me up; and it was transferred and continued to each successive owner. After being so long accustomed to comparative solitude, judge what was my surprise, at being introduced into the society of some hundreds of my species, in the middle of a populous town. Their neighings, or rather their lamentations, for the loss of their former associates; the barking of dogs; the hum of business, and the swearing of dealers, quite confounded me and, for a time I fancied myself transported into another world. By degrees, however, I recovered myself a little, to attend to the novel scene ; and, indeed, I was not long permitted to indulge in my reverie. The master gypsey, who held me in a halter, was desired by several persons to walk me out; he was then asked my price ; but as I have before avowed my complete ignorance of the mysteries of monied transactions, as they are called, I can give no explanation of the terms that were used. I only recollect that seven guineas were asked for me, and five repeatedly bidden.
At last a gentleman, not a common dealer, came up, made many inquiries if I had been broke, and how I carried, what paces I went, if I was very quiet, and many interrogatories of similar import, all which were answered in the most positive manner, to give him satisfaction ; though I afterwards knew to my cost, that half of my pretended qualities were, at that time, absolutely false. Indeed my heart misgave me when I heard terms used to which I had been unaccustomed. I began to suspect that new calamities awaited me.
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