Mr.Wood was usually driving her.

The men didn't like her, and couldn't manage her.

She had not been properly broken in.
After Mr.Wood finished his work he went and stood in the doorway.

There were six horses altogether: Dutchman, Cleve, Pacer, Scamp, a bay mare called Ruby, and a young horse belonging to Mr.Harry, whose name was Fleetfoot.
"What do you think of them all ?" said Mr.Wood, looking down at me.
"A pretty fine-looking lot of horses, aren't they?
Not a thoroughbred there, but worth as much to me as if each had pedigree as long as this plank walk.

There's a lot of humbug about this pedigree business in horses.