The first place I remember was a large meadow with a pond of clear water. Trees hung over the pond, and in the hot days I stood in the shade. My mother worked in the day, and at night she came back to me. There were six young colts in the field, and we ran and played together. Sometimes the others bit and kicked. My mother called me to her one morning. The colts here are cart-horse colts, she said, and they have not learned manners. You are well born. Your father has a great name, and your grandfather won the cup at the races. Do your work with a good will, lift your feet up high, and never bite or kick. My master was a kind man, and he called me Darkie and gave me bread.