MS-WU-MSS008-2-47

[1452] um book with its little special pencil, the yawned goodbyes.
[1453] Some even take a cab to get more quickly to the rendezvous or,
when the fun is over, home or to the hotel, where their comfort-
able bed is waiting for them. [1454] The^[⁁]n[ⁿ] you see the last stage of the
horse, between its recent career as a pet horse, or a race-horse,
or a pack-horse, or a p^plough-horse, and the shambles.

[1455] It spends mos^t
of its time standing still in an attitude of dejection, its head
hanging as low as the shafts and harness permit, that is to say
almost tot eh^{[⁁] to the} [^{to the}] b^cobble-stones. [1456] But once in motion it is transformed,
momentarily, perhaps because of the memories that motion revives,
for the mere fact of running and pl^u[⁁]ulling cannot give it much sat-
isfaction, under such conditions.

[1457] But when the shafts tilt up,
announcing that a fare has been taken on board, or when on the ^{[⁁] contrary} [^contrary]
the back-band begins to gall ^[⁁] the ^its spine, according as the passenger
is seated facing the way he is going or, what is perhaps even more
restful, with his back to it, then it rears its head, stiffens its
houghs and looks almost content.

[1458] And you see the cabman too, all
alone on his box ten feet from the ground, his knees covered at
all seasons and in all weathers with a kind of rug as a rule orig-
inally brown, the same precisely which he has just snatched from
the rump of his horse. [1459] Furious and livid perhaps from want of
passengers, the least fare seems to excite him to a frenzy.

[1460] Then
with his huge exasperated hands he tears at the reins or, half
rising and leaning out over his horse, brings them down with a c
crack all along its back. [1461] And he launches his equipage blindly