“No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird ever was.”

“Yes,” she said, “he is really quite a beauty, and he has such a sweet, good-tempered face, and such a fine, intelligent eye⁠—what do you say to calling him Black Beauty?”

“Black Beauty⁠—why, yes, I think that is a very good name. If you like it shall be his name;” and so it was.

When John went into the stable he told James that master and mistress had chosen a good, sensible English name for me, that meant something; not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They both laughed, and James said, “If it was not for bringing back the past, I should have named him Rob Roy, for I never saw two horses more alike.”

“That’s no wonder,” said John, “didn’t you know that Farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the mother of them both?”