The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1876-07-28

so lOOkCu the poor fOflOfn OlQ OeaSLs
His coat was rough his tail was bare,
The gray was sprinked in his hair;
Sportsmen and jockeys knew him not,
And yet they say he once could trot
Among the heetest of the town,
Till something cracked and broke him down
The steeds, the statesmans common lot!
" And are we then so soon forgot?"
Ah, me! doubt if one of you
Has ever heard the name 4" Old Blue.h
Whose fame through all this region rung
In those old days when was young!
"Bring forth the horse!" Alas he showed
Not like the one Mazeppa rode;
Scant-maned, sharp-backed and shaky -kneed,
The wreck of what was once steed,
Lips thin, eyes hollow, stiff in joints:
Yet not without his knowing points.
The sexton, laughing in his sleeve
AS ii 'twere all a make-belicve,
Led forth the horse, and as he laughed
Unhitchcd the breeching from the shaft,
Unclasped the rusty belt beneath,
Drew forth the snaffe from his teeth,
Slipped off his headstal, set him free
From strap and rein "a sight to see!
So worn, SO lean in every limb,
1t can't be they are saddling him.
It is his back the pig-skin strides
And flaps his lank rheumatic sides;
With look of mingled scorn and mirth
They buckle round the saddle-girth:
With horsey wink and saucy toss
youngster throws his leg across,
And so, his rider on his back,
They lead him limping to the track,
Far up behind the starting point,
To timber out each stiffened joint.
As through the ieering crowd he passed,
One ptying look old Hiram cast.
"Go it, ye cripple, while ye cant"
Cried out unsentimental Dan.
ga fast-day dinner for the crows -
Budd Dobles soothing shout arose.
Slowly, as when the walking beam
First feels the gathering head of steam
With warning cough and threatening wheeZe
The stiff old charger crooks his knees,
AT first with cautious step sedate,
As if he dragged coach of state,
He's not cot-he knows full well
That time is weight and sure to tell,
No horse 80 sturdy, but he fears
The handicap Of twenty years.
AS through the throng on either hand
The old horse nears the judges stand,
Beneath the Jockeys feather weight
He warns a little to his gait,
And now and then step is tried
That hints of something like Stride
"Go!'-Through his ears the summons stung
AS if a battle trump had rung.
The sumbering instincts long unstirred
Start at the long familiar word.
It thrills like flame through every limb
What mean mis- twenty years to him
The savage blow his rider dealt
The rhei spur pn tn that prieted hIs aFafing hide
Unheeded tore his bleeding side.
Alike to him arc spur and rein,
He steps five year old again!
Old Hiram said, He's going fast
Long ere the quarter was half,
The chuckling crowd had ceased to laugh.
Tighter his frightened jockey clung
As in mighty stride he swung,
The gravel flying in his track,
His neck stretched out, his ears laid back,
His tail extended all the while ....
Behind him like ratta file!
OFF went shoe. away it spun
Shot like bullet from gun.
The auaking hockey shapes prayer
From scraps of oatbs he used to swear,
He drops his whip, he drops his rein,
He clutches fiercely for the name.
He'll lose his hold--hc sways, he reels
He'll slide beneath the trampling heels!
The knees of many horseman quake
And flowers on many bonnet shake,
And shouts arise on left and right,
"Stick on! Stick n!n Honld tight! Hould tight y
'F Cling round his neck and don't let 60
That pace can't hold-therel steady! whea?'
But like the sable steed that bore
The sp ectral lover of Lenore,
His nostrs snorting foam and fire,
No stretch his bonY limbs can tire:
And now the stand he rushes by
And g Stop him! Stop him is the cry,
Stand back he's only just begun
He's having out three heats in one!
"Don't rush in front he'll smash your brains
But follow up and grab the reins,'
Old Hiram spoke. Dan Pfeiffcr heard,
And sprang impatient at the word,
Budd Doble started on his bay,
Aud off they sprang, and round they go,
The fast ones doing " all they know"
Look twice they follow at his heels,
AS round the cirCling course he wheels,
And Whirls with him that clinging boy
Like Hector round the walls of Troy.
Still on and on, the third time round
They're failing off they're losing ground!
Budd Doble's nag begins to fail!
Dan Pfeiffer's sorrel whisks his tail,
And see in spite of whip and shout,
Old Hiram's mare is giving out!
Now for the finish! at the turn
The old horse-al Il the rest astcrn-
Comes swinging in, with easy trot.
Py Inve he,a distaneed III the let
That trot no mortal could explain.
Some said, /" OH Datcsnaan come againl"
Some took his tme-at least they tried,
r But what Ii was coud not decide.
One said he couldnt unders stand
What happened TO his secondhand
One said . 10-ttdt couldn't be-
More likely twenty-five or three
Old Hiram stetled 1t at last,
50 The time wasrtwo-too deeyelish fast.
The parsons q horse had won the bet;
1t cost him something of sweat;
Back in the one-horse shay he went,i
The pareon wondered what it meant,
And murmured with mild suprlse
And pleasant twinkle of the eyes.
THAT funeral must have been trick,
Or corpses drive at double-quick:
shouldn't wonder, declare,
If Brother Murray made the prayer Y
And this is all have to say
About the parsons poor old bay,
The same that drew the one-hoss shay.
Moral for which this tale ia told:
A horse can trOt for all he's old.
-OHger WendeH Holmes, In the July Atlantic.