Wichita eagle., 1890-01-21
THE JOCKEYS STORY.


Twas a Jockey, and they used to tell me-
toisrably good one. But | no longer claim
tho turf as my profession, or whatever you
are mind to call it, and on my leaving the
track this story hangs.
1t was a good many years ago that quit
q mere boy at the time-though my expert
ence among men had made me seemingly
older than l really was / was pretty well
acquainted with the ways OF the world so far
as comes within the opportunity Of one most
ly associated with horsenen and horses with
their attendant surroundings.
Though but jockey-in general, a crea-
ture to be kicked and cursed-I was not I'M
like many others of the human kind. l
cherished the feeling of revenge, and for
months, yes years, had lived to crafty it.
The person upon whom l longed to wreak
NV vengeance was the man for whom | had
ridden ever since knew how. had waited
for the opportunity for-I can scarcely re-
member how long-ever since one day when
/ had a brother, brother that ] loved posi-
bly, as well as others who aspired to higher
niche on the social, yes even the moral scale.
Willie, little viii, that's what | always
called him, though the others said, Little
Bill" used to think / was more like a ia
Their to him than a brother. He was so
small, and l used to think ne oughtn't to
have been jockey like me. | taught him
to ride, how TO handle his horses Oh the track
Just as well as any of us-yes, better, for
when he was in the saddle they would, it
seemed like, strain every nerve just to please
him. You see, even the horses loved him.
He was such quiet little fellow, and so sort
o. affectionate, they couldn't help it. And l
reckon that's one reason why was kinder
TO hin than l would have been had he
been a rough fellcw-like me- When think
about Willie, as we were in those days, al
ways feel sad-how proud we used to feel of
each other when either had won great race,
and how every month we'd get together
in our little loft and fix up our money
to send home to mother and little sister
that's one reason we were Jockeys Then the
promises and resolutions we'd make about
keeping away from bad company till we got
home; how we'd resolve TO be honest always
to our employer, and not let anybody or any
body's money come between US and our duty
to him; how we used to pet the horses to-
Gether, till they all knew us and understood
our voices almost as well as we did ourselves.
But that was all changed-changed in
moment OF passion by the man we had
served so faithfully; the man for whom we
had won laurels and fortune, and whose con-
fidence had never been broken or betrayed,
or whose commands had never bean disre-
garded.
One day Willie lost race-one that Mr..
Wharton, our employer, had set his heart on
winning. He had almost won it, when his
horse stumbled and went down. Mr. Wharton
was furious. All in passion, he ran to where
the two lay in heap, and, as Willie was get
ting up, struck him terrible blow with his
heavy whip. The blow and the shock of the
fall was too much for kim, and it wasn't
many hours before he passed away, to find
his home among the white steeds of heaven
He never recognized any Of US, and passed
away just Like he was going to sleep.
was to be avenged.
At last the time had come Ever since that
awful day had remained with an old en-
ploye, awaiting the day when l should be able
to avsnge the cruel Staying of my little jockey
brother
The opportunity had arrived, and for my
long waiting l was none the less determined
1t was the last day Of the great racing sea-
son at -, and the closing day was to be the
greatest of all, the interest of the whole sea-
son being conferred upon it, Il was 70 be the
climax of thesporting season, and between its
suns fortunes would be won and lost.
Randall the horse that | was to ride,
knew was the favoriie, and on his victory
heavy odds were offered. On every tongue
were praises of bis beauty and swiftness. and
on every hand he was heralded the victor | |
knew all this and was satisfied, for l knew |
that we would DO our best-Randall and |.
Bob" said Mr. Wharton, calling me aside
on the morning of the race, Randall must |
not win. have played my fortune against |
him. If he wins | am ruineG-completely. !
Even the horse himself is on his own defeat. |
Now remember"
"Au right, sir; I'll remember" / said. |
with a strange fealing of excitement passing !
through me.
THIS was the opportunity | had waited and |
lopged for l would win-I would repay
him for his cruelty. Eagerly ran TO the
box where Randall, who Was TO carry me 10
victory and vengeance, was locked lie was
truly q noble animal, almost human ntelli-
gence beaming from his flashing eye Often
had | ridden him. aud often mad ne responded
TO my urging. Would be fail me
this timer No, it couldn't be, with such lit
tie sinewy limbs, such a deep set, powerful
chest, and withal such intelligence, he could
not fail. As l gently careSSed him the noble
creature seemed TO understand that be was
ail In all to me then. Ills playful little neigh
Of recognition was better assurance than
any other that he would DO his uftermost
Tor me.
Caressins and talking, 1 remained by his
'ide until the grooms appeared to equip him
hen, for there was no telling what might be
Employed TO make sure that he would not
win; there We're twenty times more money
IN his losing than would buy two of his
breed.
1t was time TO mount All about the sta
lies wss confusion. Horsemen we're gathered
n groups talking earnestly on the probabili-
les of the race, some referring TO tablets to
ee just how much they hai ventsFed on their
avorites. Groonls were hurryins hither and
hlthe- with blankets on the arms and pals
II their hands; a small army Of jockeys en-
5aged in an animated criticism of their fol
overs vino were 10 ride the great race. while
some devotee of me turf and pa
ron OF the bookmaker. more excited than
ne rest, would rush up for an instant to in
lulre after the condition OF MS iavorire An
'ther asked about the rider. while others
With knowing wink, inquired if everything
vas ''sll right"
The multitude in the stands was getting