12 Hard times 
　  
　　I was sold to a baker who Jerry knew，but the baker's bearing rein up．This made it difficult for me to pull a heavy cart，and I found the work very hard． 
　　One day，after three or four months of this，I was pulling the cart，which was much heavier than usual，up a steep hill．I had to stop several times to rest，which didn't please Jakes． 
　　'Move on， you lazy horse， or I'll make you！'he shouted，and he hit me with his whip． 
　　After a few more metres，I had to stop again．The whip came down across my back once more and the pain was sharp．I was doing my best but the driver was still punishing me cruelly，which seemed very unfair． 
　　Jakes was whipping me a third time when a woman hurried over and said，'Oh，please don't whip your horse like that． I think I can help，if you'll let me．' 
　　Jakes laughed．'Oh？' 
　　'He can't use all his strength when his head is held back with that bearing rein，'the woman went on．'If you take it off，I'm sure he'll do better．' 
　　'Anything to please a lady，'said Jakes，smiling． 
　　The rein was taken off and I moved my head up and down several times to help my aching neck． 
　　'Poor boy，is that what you wanted？'said the woman， pat-ting me．She turned to Jakes．'If you speak to him kindly and lead him on，I believe he'll do better．' 
　　Jakes took the rein，and I put down my head and moved on．I pulled the cart up the hill， then stopped to take a breath． 
　　'Well， that helped，' said Jakes，'but if I went without a bearing rein all the time，the other cart drivers would laugh at me．It's fashionable，you see．' 
　　'It's better to start a good fashion than to follow a bad one，'said the woman．'Many gentlemen don't use bearing reins now．' 
　　She gave me another pat on the neck and walked on． 
　　After that，Jakes always took off my bearing rein when I was going up a hill，and that made my life easier．But pulling heavy carts day after day slowly began to exhaust me and a younger horse was brought in to do my work． 
* * * 
　　I was sold to another cab owner whose name was Nicholas Skinner．He was hard on his drivers，and they were hard on the horses．We worked long hours，had no Sunday rest，and it was a hot summer． 
　　My driver was just as hard as his master，and he had a cruel whip with something sharp at the end which often cut me and made me bleed．It was a terrible life，and sometimes，like poor Ginger，I wished I was dead． 
　　One day I nearly got my wish． 
　　We were at the railway station when a family of four people hired us There was a noisy man with a lady，a little boy，a young girl， and a lot of heavy luggage． 
　　'Father，'said the young girl，'this poor horse can't take us and all our luggage．He's too tired．' 
　　'Oh， he's all right， miss！'said my driver．He put a heavy box on the cab with the other luggage． 
　　'Father，please take a second cab，'said the girl．'I'm sure this is very cruel．' 
　　'Grace，get in at once，and don't be stupid，'said her father．'The driver knows his own business．' 
　　My gentle friend had to obey，and box after box was lifted up and put on the top of the cab，or next to the driver．Then the driver hit me with his whip and we moved out of the sta-tion． The cab was very heavy and I had not eaten or rested since early that morning．I did my best and got along quite well un-til we came to Ludgate Hill．By then I was exhausted，and the heavy cab was too much for me．My feet went from under me and I fell heavily，knocking all the breath out of me．I lay quite still because I could not move．Indeed， I expected to die． 
　　There were angry voices above me and luggage was taken off the cab，but it was all like a dream．I tnought I heard the girl's voice saying，'Oh，that poor horse！It's all our fault！' 
　　Someone loosened my bridle and collar，and another voice said，'He's dead，he'll never get up again．'I heard a police－man giving orders but I did not open my eyes．Cold water was thrown over my head，some medicine was put into my mouth，and I was covered with a cloth． 
　　I don't know how long I was there，but a man with a kind voice persuaded me to try to get up and I managed it．Then I was gently led to some stables close by． 
　　That evening，I was taken back to Skinner's stables，and the next morning the horse-doctor came to see me． 
　　'He's been worked too hard，'said the doctor．'There's no strength left in him．' 
　　'Then he must go for dog food，'said Skinner．'I have no fields for sick horses．It doesn't suit my business．I work them for as long as they'll go，then I sell them for what I can get．' 
　　'There's a horse fair in ten days' time，' said the doctor．'If you rest him and give him food， he may get better，and then you may get more than his skin's worth．' 
　　Luckily for me，Skinner took the doctor's advice and，after rest and food，I began to feel better．Ten days later， I was taken to the horse fair，a few miles outside London． 
　  
12 苦日子 
　  
　　我被卖给了杰利认识的一位面包师。这面包师的车夫是个叫贾克的男人。他喜欢把绳套收得紧紧的。这叫我拉重物时很困难。我发现这工作很不好干。 
　　这样过了三四个月。一天，我正拉车上一个很陡的小山。这次车比以往都沉重得多。我不得不几次停下来休息，这让贾克很不高兴。 
　　“走啊，你这懒马！我要抽你了！”他喊着并用鞭子抽我。 
　　拉了几米，我又得停下来。鞭子又落在我的后背上，疼得钻心。我已经尽力了，可车夫还无情地惩罚我，这非常不公平。 
　　贾克第三次抽我的时候，一位妇女跑过来说：“噢，请你别那样抽你的马。我想我能帮忙，如果你愿意的话。” 
　　贾克笑起来。“噢？” 
　　“他的头被绳套向后拉得抬起来，这样他就使不上力气，”妇女接下去说。“如果你卸下绳套，我肯定他能干好。” 
　　“只要能让女士开心，我什么事都可以干！”贾克笑着说。 
　　绳套拆了下来，我上下活动了几次酸疼的脖子。 
　　“可怜的孩子，你就想这样吧？”女人说着拍拍我。她转向贾克：“只要对他说几句好话，并牵着它，我相信他会干得更好。” 
　　贾克拾起缰绳，我低下头拉起来。我把车拉上了山顶，停下来喘着气。 
　　“咦，倒是管用，”贾克说。“可是如果我一直不用绳套，其他车夫会笑我的。这是潮流，你知道吧。” 
　　“开始一个好潮流比追随一个坏潮流强。”妇女说，“现在很多绅士已不再用绳套了。” 
　　她又拍了拍我的脖子，然后走了。 
　　从那以后，贾克在我上山时就摘下绳套，这让我的日子好过了一些。但是日复一日地拉重车慢慢耗尽了我的体力，一匹年轻的马被带来接替我。 
* * *  
　　我被卖给了另一个叫尼古拉斯·斯基耐尔的出租马车车主。他对车夫很冷酷，车夫就把气撒在马身上。我们长时间地工作，星期天也不能休息。当时又是炎热的夏天。 
　　我的车夫和他的主人一样冷酷，他的鞭子梢上有什么锐利的东西，经常使我受伤流血。生活真是可怕，有时，我就像可怜的金儿，巴不得自己死掉。 
　　有一天，这个愿望差点就实现了。 
　　当时我们在火车站，有一家四口来叫车。这一家有一个吵吵嚷嚷的男人和一位女士、一个小男孩和一个小女孩，还有很多沉重的行李。 
　　“爸爸，”小女孩说，“这匹可怜的马拉不了我们和我们的行李，他太累了。” 
　　“哦，他没问题，小姐1”我的车夫说。他把一个重箱子放到车上，和其它行李放在一起。 
　　“爸爸，坐别的车吧，”小女孩说，“我觉得这太残酷了。” 
　　“格蕾丝，赶快上车，别犯傻了，”她爸爸说。“车夫自己知道。” 
　　我温柔的朋友只好遵从，一个又一个箱子被举起放到车顶上，或是车夫旁。然后车夫抽了我一鞭子，我们走出了车站。 
　　车子很沉。我从清早起就没吃过东西，也没休息过。我尽力在拉，直到鲁德盖特山，我都做得很好。到了那儿我已精疲力尽了，车子实在是太重了。我的脚在身子下面绊了一下，便重重地跌倒了，气都喘不上来了。我静静地躺在地上动弹不得。真的，我希望死掉。 
　　我头顶上响起愤怒的声音，行李被从车上卸下来，这一切都像是个梦。我好像听到那女孩的声音在说：“噢，可怜的马，这全是我们的错！” 
　　有人解下了我的笼头和轭具，另一个声音说：“他死了，再也站不起来了。”我听见一个警察在下命令，可我没有睁开眼睛。冷水浇在我的头上，药喂进我嘴里，一块布盖到了我的身上。 
　　我不知道在那儿躺了多久，后来一个男人和善的声音劝我试着站起来——我做到了。随后我被轻轻地牵到附近的一个马厩。 
　　那天晚上，我被带回斯基耐尔的马厩。第二天一早兽医来看我。 
　　“他干活过于劳累，”医生说。“已经没体力了。” 
　　“那他只有去喂狗了，”斯基耐尔说。“我可没地方养这些病马。这对我的生意不利。我得尽可能地使用他们，然后卖掉，能得一点是一点。” 
　　“10天后有一个马市，”医生说。“如果让他休息一下，再喂些吃的，他会好起来，你也能卖个比马皮好点的价钱。” 
　　真幸运，斯基耐尔听从了医生的建议。靠着休息和食物，我开始觉得好一点了。10天后，我被带到伦敦外几英里的马市。 
　　　    


 