I was groom to a gemman before
I went to the inn at Hounslow, and flung him a horse down worth ninety
guineas, by endeavouring to show off before some ladies that I met on the
road. Turn your horse out to grass throughout May and the first part of
June, for then the grass is sweetest, and the flies don't sting so bad as
they do later in summer; afterwards merely turn him out occasionally in
the swale of the morn and the evening; after September the grass is good
for little, lash and sour at best; every horse should go out to grass, if
not his blood becomes full of greasy humours, and his wind is apt to
become affected, but he ought to be kept as much as possible from the
heat and flies, always got up at night, and never turned out late in the
year--Lord! if I had always such a nice attentive person to listen to me
as you are, I could go on talking about 'orses to the end of time.'
* * * * *
I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and said, that
as he did not live far off, he hoped that I would go with him and taste
some of his mead. As I had never tasted mead, of which I had frequently
read in the compositions of the Welsh bards, and, moreover, felt rather
thirsty from the heat of the day, I told him that I should have great
pleasure in attending him. Whereupon, turning off together, we proceeded
about half a mile, sometimes between stone walls, and at other times
hedges, till we reached a small hamlet, through which we passed, and
presently came to a very pretty cottage, delightfully situated within a
garden, surrounded by a hedge of woodbines.
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