When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, that was the worst of
all for us horses; one mile of such traveling with a weight to draw, and
no firm footing, would take more out of us than four on a good road;
every nerve and muscle of our bodies is on the strain to keep our
balance; and, added to this, the fear of falling is more exhausting than
anything else. If the roads are very bad, indeed, our shoes are roughed,
but that makes us feel nervous at first.

One cold windy day, Dolly brought Jerry a basin of something hot, and
was standing by him while he ate it. He had scarcely begun, when a
gentleman, walking toward us very fast, held up his umbrella. Jerry
touched his hat in return, gave the basin to Dolly, and was taking off
my cloth, when the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, "No, no, finish
your soup, my friend; I have not much time to spare, but I can wait till
you have done, and set your little girl safe on the pavement."

So saying, he seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly, and
came back to Dolly. "There, Dolly, that's a gentleman; that's a real
gentleman, Dolly; he has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor
cabman and a little girl."

[Illustration]

Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and then took his orders
to drive to Clapham Rise. Several times after that, the same gentleman
took our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses, for whenever
we took him to his own door, two or three dogs would come bounding out
to meet him. Sometimes he came round and patted me saying in his quiet,
pleasant way: "This horse has got a good master, and he deserves it." It