Then there is the steam-engine style of driving; these drivers were mostly people from towns, who never had a horse of their own, and generally travelled by rail.
They always seemed to think that a horse was something like a steam-engine, only smaller. At any rate, they think that if only they pay for it a horse is bound to go just as far and just as fast and with just as heavy a load as they please. And be the roads heavy and muddy, or dry and good; be they stony or smooth, uphill or downhill, it is all the same—on, on, on, one must go, at the same pace, with no relief and no consideration.
These people never think of getting out to walk up a steep hill. Oh, no, they have paid to ride, and ride they will! The horse ? Oh, he's used to it! What were horses made for, if not to drag people uphill ? Walk ? A good joke indeed! And so the whip is plied and the rein is chucked, and often a rough, scolding voice cries out, " Go along, you lazy beast!" And then another slash of the whip, when all the time we are doing our very best to get along, uncomplaining and obedient, though often sorely harassed and down-hearted.
This steam-engine style of driving wears us out faster than any other kind. I would far rather go twenty miles with a goody considerate driver than I would go ten with some of these; it would take less out of me.
Another thing, they scarcely ever put on the brake, however steep the downhill may be, and thus bad accidents sometimes happen ; or if they do put it on, they often for-