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

All has SttIlcu W Elo thos
there never was so delightful room as
the big dining room at Woodstock. 1t
was long, narrow room. with narrow
slits of windows, SO shaded on one
side by the black green cedar trees that
grew up sgainst it that the room was
always half in shadow. but on the other
side you had view of the gray tops
of the race stables. and just beyond
rolling sweep of blue grass fields,
with cool. clear pond lying in the midst
like shield of FURNISHED silver. Within
the whole end of the room almost was
taken up by huge fireplace. with broad.
tagged hearth and mantel shelf set high
above all possible depredations of childish
curiosity. Into this great fire logs Of hick-
ory and maple would be piled, and it was
the delight Of my childhood to sit in the
corner, "A veritable Cinderella, and catch the
sweet, pungent, smoke favored juice that
the fire stewed out of the wood. Over
against the opposite wall stood long.
low. mahogany sideboard. black with age,
in the dusky mirror of whose polished
wood the flames reflected themselves with
strange and grotesque variations, now
dying down to a tremulous glow In the
black panel of door, now catching a
silvery radiance from the long lines of
racing cups on the upper shelf or giving
out prismatic CLEANS from the heavy glass
decanters.
Oh. 1t was pleasant enough room to
sit in, especially in the twilight, when the
cleaning peopled the room with the fan
tastic shadows that dreams are made of.
Likely as not, just as the fire died down
and the flames began to flicker into un-
steady light. there would be shutting
of feet in the doorway, and an old negro
man. with kindly. whimsical face. would
come in, smiling above the heavy turn"
of wood he was bringing to replenish the
FIRE. 1t would be jeff. who had been born
on the place. and to whom it belonged as
much as to any of its ostensible white
owners. not by right Of title deeds. but
by right of pride and love in it.
Jeff's place in the family had long been
g sinecure. He had ridden the famous
horses raised on the place. when he was a
light weight jockey. and in after years,
when he grew too heavy for that. he was
head groom and undisputable authority
on turf matters; but above all, he had
been Marse Pills friend and companion
in childhood and youth He had helped
Marse Phil trap rabbits and train colts;
he went off with Marse Phil to the war,
and when he fell in that awful rush of
cavalry at Fort Donelson it was jeff who
walked home all the way, leading Black
Bess by the bridle-the horse on which
Msrse Phil was killed was sacred to him.
and he would not ride it.
Well. ole Miss never thought of that
without dropping an extra lump of sugar
into his "toddy," or little more "sper-
rits." for jeff belongs to the old regime
and has no opinion of the new tangled
temperance notions.
''Dey amt no sense in hit. he always
argues, for what does the good book sayg
Take little for de stomach's sake. en-
lay folks is built des de same way now
dey wuz den. Deys got de ve'y same kind
of stomachs, en- dey need eomfortin'
powerfully sometimes.
1t was fast growing dark one winter
evening, | remember. when jeff came in
with his armful of wood, which he de-
posted in the wood box, and then stood
leaning against the mantel, negro fashion,
with his foot on the burning logs. Some
how his ragged clothes with their incon-
gruous patches fell about him pictur-
esquely. his knotty old black hands hung
idly by his side, and the flames leaping up
showed his face sharpely outlined against
the white wall. as still and immovable as
If it was carved in bronze But the face
vas full of the wistful longings and mem
ories of old age. the pathetic look that
comes TO those who dwell in the past and
for whom the future has neither hope nor
promise.
Presently he went over to the side.
board and began touching. one by one,
the long rows of silver cups and goblets
tho trophies he had helped to win.
They were his fetiches. the visible idols
that represented all the happy past. and
he did not need the Inscriptions, at best
meaningless scrawls TO him, to tell him
on what race course or at what fair Frax-
inella or Miss Wilkins, or Autocrat or
Surprise had won one or another of them.
and he knew well enough that the time
had been when each of these silver cups
represented fortunes staked on the speed
and endurance of horse 1t was some
thing worth remembering. those races
when they ran four mile heats, and it
took all the nerve and endurance of rider
and horse to win. There was the cup
that was given when Fraxinella won the
race at Nachez, when she ran twenty
three-with two dead heats
And then there were the Crevasse and
Wagner cups-Jeff chuckIed softly to
himself as he touched them:
1--we won dem at Nashville. honey" he
said aloud; wed done entered Crevasse
and Wagner for de three mile race, en- des
ez me and Marse Phil wuz startin ole
marster call out: BOYS, win a race or kill
I,oa,' N-an Aar,hx, nunp an In .-i N .;hlo
wuz de fus favrites, and we run our
hosses agin em. me a-ridin. en- we won bof
races. but Wagner drapped under me jess
ez got under de string. You know dat
boss know whuts spected of him en- he
amt gwine TO spint nobody. Des den
Nurse Phil come up en- say: Fore Cord.
Marse Phil. what you reckon old marster's
gwine to sayf' En- lie spon: He's bleeiged
to say we beyed him. We'se won G race
en- killed hoss.'"
After bit JEFF turned, so that the light
might fall little fuller on it-s slender,
ewerlike pitcher, that. with its attendant
goblets, always stood in the center CT the
sideboard, and that no one ever moved
Ole miss busted them herself, with hands
that never ceased 10 tremble at their task.
snd no one else, Dot even JEFF, dared to
touch them. Oh, knew very well what
the forid inscription said, that was half
hidden under tie mass of scrolls and
erabesques carved on them. 1t was the
premium that Marse Phil won at the last
grand tournament they held in thai. rich,
die. happy country before the wer swept
yer it, and made new heaven and Q
lew earth for them.
knew as well as il JEFF had spoken
that he was thinking of those far of days
that are as much separated from US now
rs II centuries instead Of years rolled be-
tween. | knew he was remembering the
ring he and Marse Phil laid off in the
blue grass meadow. where Marse Phil
practiced riding bare back and without
bridle on the thoroughbred mare he had
chosen for the purpose Round and round
he would go, fitting at the rings hang.
ing from their supports and stringing