English Horse by Bonnie Bryant Read Free Book Online

Max’s pony cart. The cart looked even smaller than it really was behind the powerful hindquarters of the huge bays.
    “I only wish my own carts and buggies had arrived intime for this demonstration,” Mrs. Pennington told the group apologetically. “But I’m afraid they aren’t being shipped down from Pennsylvania for another week or so. We’ll just have to make do.”
    Miles led the horses forward into the ring, then helped his grandmother into the cart. She picked up the reins, holding both pairs expertly in her left hand. In her right hand she held a long, slender whip, which she flicked lightly to guide her horses as they broke into a brisk trot.
    “I’d like to introduce my team,” the woman announced, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the cart wheels. The horses trotted around the ring in perfect harmony. “That’s Hodge on the left, and his brother Podge on the right.”
    Max spoke up with a smile. “Can anyone guess what breed Hodge and Podge are?”
    Carole studied the two big geldings for a moment. Hodge and Podge were both a little over sixteen hands tall, solid and muscular. Each horse had a large, handsome head with a hawklike profile. They were a deep, solid bay color, with black legs, thick black manes and tails and not a speck of white to be seen on them anywhere.
    Carole raised her hand.
    “Yes, Carole?” Max nodded at her.
    “They look like Cleveland Bays,” Carole said.
    Mrs. Pennington pulled her team to a stop. She glanced at Carole, looking pleased. “That’s right, young lady,” she confirmed. “Now I’ve got another question forthe group. Does anyone know where the Cleveland Bay breed originated?”
    Tessa raised her hand quickly. “I know!” she exclaimed. “They’re British.”
    Veronica let out a loud snort. “Do you think
everything
comes from England?” she said sarcastically. “Come on. Everybody knows that Cleveland is in Ohio. That means Cleveland Bays must be American.”
    Carole did her best to keep from laughing out loud. “No, Tessa is right,” she said. “The Cleveland Bay is the oldest native horse breed in Britain.”
    “Right,” Tessa said. “Clevelands and Cleveland crosses have been kept as carriage horses in the Royal Mews in London since the nineteen twenties.”
    Mrs. Pennington looked impressed. “Right again,” she said with a smile. “I must admit, it was a bit of a trick question.” She nodded to Veronica. “So don’t feel too bad, young lady. You aren’t the first person I’ve talked to who thought my boys came from Ohio.”
    Lisa was used to Carole’s encyclopedic knowledge of all things equine. Still, it was impressive that she knew about the Cleveland Bay breed—Tessa, too. And if Lisa was impressed, she knew that Veronica had to be positively irate. “See?” she whispered to Stevie. “We don’t have to play pranks to make Veronica look bad. She does it all by herself!”
    Mrs. Pennington went on. “In the old days, Cleveland Bays were generally used for farmwork or as packhorses,and they were used for hunting and coaching, as they are now. These days, when the breed is crossed with Thoroughbred blood, you can get an outstanding jumper or hunter.” The woman put her team through a few more paces. Then she climbed out of the cart and answered questions from the group.
    By the time the meeting came to an end, The Saddle Club had almost forgotten about Veronica’s mistake about the Cleveland Bays. But Veronica clearly hadn’t forgotten. As Max dismissed the group, Veronica got up and quickly hurried past the four Saddle Club girls, who were still seated on the ground. As she passed, the toe of her polished boot came down squarely on Tessa’s hand.
    “Ow!” Tessa cried, quickly pulling her hand away.
    “Hey!” Stevie exclaimed. “Watch where you’re putting your big feet!”
    Veronica paused and gazed down at the other girls with a nasty smile. Then she turned her head and saw that Max was looking toward