Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1888-08-09

1t was only when Polly was time keeper
that the mare and her rider failed TO get
around in the twenty seconds prescribed
by the tournament management for the
race, and JEFF groaned in spirit when he
thought Of the possible effect of Polly's
presence on the great day.
81 lay Miss Polly's gwine to make
Marse Phil lose dat race yit." he prophe-
sled dismally.
The ring in the meadow at Woodstock
was but prototype of many another in
the neighborhood, for the tournament
was to be grand affair. The prize for
the victor was a slender golden crown set
with rubies, and he was to choose from
among the county bellies the one he would
crown queen Of love and beansy.
Finally the day arrived. such an Octo-
Der day as only comes to Tennessee and
southern Kentucky, when the air is full
OF the blue haze of Indian summer and
the forests are like banks of opal. red and
yellow, brown and green, q quivering
mass OF color In the autumn breeze, and
the long white turnpikes curve between
banks Of golden red and purple iron
weeds. The fair grounds where the tour
nament was to be held was gay with
music and bright with flags. The rich
country people were coming in in heavily
laden carriages, the booths where colored
lemonade and indigestible gingerbread
was sold. or feats of skill or chance at
tempted. were tn full swing of custom.
Hostlers led bianketed and silky coated
horses in and out the crowd, nurses in
gay bsndannas and white aprons scurried
about with dazed and frightened children.
every now and then the wind would bring
q Whit of the savory barbecue being pre-
pared under the superintendent of old
Ben in q trench under the oaks, for big
dinner and dance was to finish off the
days festivities. II was q noisy. bolster
Gus. good natured crowd. care free as
they never were to be again.
Up at the amphitheatre the track was
being sprinkled and rolled until it was
hard and firm. Over at enc side was the
fight Of steps covered with white cloth
that led to the throne where some fortu-
nate youth was to lead his sweetheart. and
there in the presence of all his little world
crown her queen of love and beauty.
1t was as pretty and as picturesque
scene under the soft southern skies as one
could well imagine, and it would have
been pathetic enough for all its bravery if
only one had known that the south had
come to the very last days of her hundred
years Of song and merry making. and that
this was almost the last holidaying of
happy. care free people.
But the band was beginning to play
what was it, I'm dreaming now of Hal
lie. sweet Halle, it is the southern air. if
we have one All, many night under the
stars on the eve of battle, or in the dim,
gray dawn when they sprang from half
broken dreams of home to boot and sad
die. when the band played Listen to the
Mocking Bird" did those gallant young
fellows recall that day with heartsick
and homesick throb. The music throbbed
out louder and louder through the vibrant
air, the grooms were leading the sleek
coated thoroughbreds round and round the
ring. the contestants were getting ready.
only Marse Phil is lingering for few last
words with Polly. who is pinning on his
breast knot of white and silver ribbon
that looks brave enough against the black
velvet and silver lace that somehow
makes q good foil for his fresh young
beauty and 1.-THE figure
II am your knight, Polly" he is say
ing, "if I win crown you queen of love
and beauty. and my wife" and audacity
wins with pretty Polly. as humility never
would, and she fushes little under her
clear dark skin as she answers
IF you winr'
Those were the days when people read
Scott instead of Howells and James, and
when they believed. Ike Stevenson. that
the finest hero Is better for wearing bit
of purple. SO when the contestants in the
tournament rode out they wore the old
court dress Most of them were descen-
dants Of the old knightly lines Of Eng
laud. and there may have been some in
distinct inherited consciousness of other
Journeys and jousts that made this sport
take such hold on their imaginations. so
they came as Ivanhoe and Boise Gilbert.
and the Black Knight and Sir Launcelot.
and a host Of others.
Presently the bugle called time and the
Rrst knight entered and saluted the audi
ence that sat eager breathless. attentive
Poor fellow. it was not long before he
earned a real knighthood on the field of
battle, when he rode with that same un
faltering and immovable seat in the sad
die right into the face of death and
planted his colors on the enemy's smok-
ing batteries. There was a murmur of
recognition for him and his horse, for it
was an audience that owned and was
keenly critical OF good horse flesh, and
then there was wild fanfare of music,
the judge dropped the flag, and horse and
rider were away on mad race. Only
twenty seconds in which the rider must
take the ten rings. hanging from their
hooks. on his long. slender lance. Quick of
eye, supple of wrist, faultless horseman
must he be or he loses. Twice the rider
strings the ten glittering rings on his
lance. but on the third round his horse
slips. bit of inequality on the track,
touch too light or heavy on the bride. no
one knows what. but it is one of those
unforeseen mishaps that turns the for
tunes Of the day. for one at least. and
as the rider leaves the ring he knows he
Is defeated
beautiful horses and their gallant riders.
but after q while it became apparent that
that contest lay between Marse Phil and
Cap. Edwards. Both were expert horse
men and both rode horses whose records
had been made on many hard run race.
Excitement In the contest had reached al
most fever heat. when the track was
rolled for the last time, and in answer to
the bugle call Marss Phil rode into the
ring and threw up his hand in salute to
the applause that greeted his entrance.
Ole Miss has among her treasures a
daguerreotype of him as Le looked that
day, with his bright brown curls shining
above the velvet and lace Of his bizarre
costume. wltn MS prtuo young ngure
drawn up to its fullest height and in his
eyes that look of courage, Of determine
tion, Of victory
"Cose | knowed Marse Phil wuz hand
some man" jeff slways said in speaking
of that day. but never see dat look on
his face agin till | see him chargin up de
hill on Black Bess In de face of the can
non. wild his soad in one hand en- de flag
in de yuther. Hit mex me think bout de
day of the tournament right away. en-
God knows hit warnt no time TO be thinkin
bout home den"