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molly-coddled enough, and the time has come for you to earn your keep. I’m going to try some collars on you this evening, find one that fits, and then tomorrow we’ll start ploughing. Now we can do it the nice way or the nasty way. Give me trouble and I’ll whip you till you bleed.’ Old Zoey knew his mood well enough and whinnied her warning, backing off into the dark recesses of the stable, but she need not have warned me for I sensed his intention. One look at the raised stick sent my heart thumping wildly with fear. Terrified, I knew I could not run, for there was nowhere to go, so I put my back to him and lashed out behind me. I felt my hooves strike home. I heard a cry of pain and turned to see him crawling out of the stable door dragging one leg stiffly behind him and muttering words of cruel vengeance. That next morning both Albert and his father came out together to the stables. His father was walking with a pronounced limp. They were carrying a collar each and I could see that Albert had been crying for his pale cheeks were stained with tears. They stood together at the stable door. I noticed with infinite pride and pleasure that my Abert was already taller than his father whose face was drawn and lined with pain. ‘If your mother hadn’t begged me last night, Albert, I’d have shot that horse on the spot. He could’ve killed me. Now I’m warning you, if that animal is not ploughing straight as an arrow inside a week, he’ll be sold on, and that’s a promise. It’s up to you. You say you can deal with him, and I’ll give you just one chance. He won’t let me go near him. He’s wild and vicious, and unless you make it your business to tame him and train him inside that week, he’s going. Do you understand? That horse has to earn his keep like everyone else around here – I don’t care how showy he is – that horse has got to learn how to work. And I’ll promise you another thing, Albert, if I have to lose that bet, then he has to go.’ He dropped the collar on the ground and turned on his heel to go. ‘Father,’ said Albert with resolution in his voice. ‘I’ll train Joey – I’ll train him to plough all right – but you must promise never to raise a stick to him again. He can’t be handled that way, I know him, Father. I know him as if he were my own brother.’ ‘You train him, Albert, you handle him. Don’t care how you do it. I don’t want to know,’ his father said dismissively. ‘I’ll not go near the brute again. I’d shoot him first.’ But when Albert came into the stable it was not to smoothe me as he usually did, nor to talk to me gently. Instead he walked up to me and looked me hard in the eye. ‘That was divilish stupid,’ he said sternly. ‘If you want to survive, Joey, you’ll have to learn. You’re never to kick out at anyone ever again. He means it, Joey. He’d have shot you just like that if it hadn’t been for Mother. It was Mother who saved you. He wouldn’t listen to me
Do you think Albert will succeed? Why? What might the consequences be?
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