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CHAPTER XXXIII.
A LONDON CAB HORSE.
My new master's name was Jeremiah Barker, but as every one called him Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his wife, was just as good a match as a man could have. She was a plump, trim, tidy little woman, with smooth, dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry little mouth. The boy was nearly twelve years old, a tall, frank, good-tempered lad; and little Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother over again at eight years old. They were all wonderfully fond of each other; I never knew such a happy, merry family before or since. Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which he drove and attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, white, rather large-boned animal, called "Captain." He was old now, but when he was young he must have been splendid; he had still a proud way of holding his head and arching his neck; in fact, he was a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch of him. He told me that in his early youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged to an officer in the cavalry, and used to lead the regiment. I will tell more of that hereafter.
The next morning, when I was well groomed, Polly and Dolly came into the yard to see me and make friends. Harvy had been helping his father since the early morning, and had stated nis opinion that I should turn out " a regular brick." Polly brought me a slice of apple, and Dolly a piece of bread, and made as much of me as if I had been the " Black Beauty " of olden time. It was a great treat to be petted again and talked to in a gentle
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