and we go
galloping round the streets to see where the whistle comes from. And
when we find the right house, where someone is waiting, perhaps a man
jumps in, and says: "To the station as fast as you can, and half a crown
if you do it in a quarter of an hour." Well, of course, it's my master
who gets the money, but it's I that have to earn it. So we tear off full
speed, and other things get in the way, and I have to pull up suddenly,
and the horrid curb-bit cuts my mouth till I could rear with the pain.
Then off again, and at last, all hot and angry, we dash up to the
station, and the man inside leaps out and throws up the money and runs
off. Then my master strokes me down, and says: "Jenny, old girl, I'm
sorry to fluster you so, but we must make a bit for the bairns at home,
eh, old girl?" And he pats me, and I'd bite his hand if I could. As if I
cared about his bairns! And so it goes on all day long, and at night I'm
in a nasty stuffy stable with other horses coming and going, until it
makes me wild. I'll be glad when it's all over, I can tell you; but I
have heard it said that there are worse things than even my life.'

That horse, you see, was not good-tempered, and so even the kind cabman
could not make her happy.

There are still many horses in London drawing carts of all kinds and
vans, and even private carriages, but every year they become fewer.

CHAPTER V

CHILDREN AT SCHOOL

Of course all London children must go to school or be taught at home,
just as all country children are. And there is nothing very interesting
in the ordinary schools in London, for they are like those anywhere
else. But there are some special schools which belong to London, even if
they are not still actually there; one of these is the Duke of York's
School for soldier-boys, which used to be at Chelsea, but has been moved
into the country near Dover. Five hundred little boys, the sons of
soldiers, who are nearly all going to be soldiers themselves, are here
trained. They are dressed in a scarlet uniform in summer, just like
soldiers, and in winter wear dark-blue uniform, and the school is like a
barracks where real soldiers live. The boys come here as young as nine
years old, and stay until they are fourteen or fifteen, and then if they
like it they go into the real army, and are drummer-boys. To see them on
Sunday is a pleasant sight. They have a chapel and a chaplain of their
own; on Sunday mornings the boys meet together a