One day we saw the earl come into the meadow, and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we stood still under our lime-tree, and let them come up to us. They examined us carefully. The earl seemed much annoyed.

“There is three hundred pounds flung away for no earthly use,” said he, “but what I care most for is that these horses of my old friend, who thought they would find a good home with me, are ruined. The mare shall have a twelvemonth’s run, and we shall see what that will do for her; but the black one, he must be sold; ’tis a great pity, but I could not have knees like these in my stables.”

“No, my lord, of course not,” said York, “but he might get a place where appearance is not of much consequence, and still be well treated. I know a man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who often wants a good horse at a low figure; I know he looks well after his horses. The inquest cleared the horse’s character, and your lordship’s recommendation, or mine, would be sufficient warrant for him.”