St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1891-11-26

crowd. He never even deigned to
/ glance at Old Folks. who looked
smaller and blacker than ever. sitting
on the mares back in Col. Bills all
white colors. Old Folks pulled his
cap over his eyes and said nothing.
81 amt got no orders fur you, Old
Folks, "said Colonel Bill as he gave the
/ girth little final Tightening. You
just lay with the bunch and don't go
out and make no runnin'. Eff you
manage to stick on till you come to
the head of the stretch the mare IL
eat them up. You don't need no
whip, for she amt never been hit in
her life and wouldn't understand it.
| Now go on and do you best. III
never forgit you eff you win"
Old Folks answered never word.
He pulled his cap down harder over
/ his eyes and set his teeth together
grinly, and with Colonel Bill at the
mares head. started out of the pad
/ dock.
They made a pretty picture as they
galloped up the brown stretch of
track, with the sun lighting up the
party-coIored jackets of the jockeys;
and the crowd cheered them all
good-naturedly. The first from the
Paddock was the favorite, Cleo
patra, a handsome chestnut. The
coal-black Tandrum followed. Be
hind her, dancing across the track
from side to side, was Blue Eyes,
coquetish bay, drinking in with eager
ears the applause she loved so well.
Then came the Californians, two
noble chestnuts Hard behind were
Kathleen and Elizabeth, the Johnson
entry, each with a white star in her
forehead. Last of all was the mare.
But so 1.-THE and graceful was she,
with her haughtily arched neck and
her dainty step, that the applause
she received equaled that which
greeted the favorite herself; and the
colonel, from his position on little
knoll beside the judges stand, listen
ed to it with a thrill of passionate
joy.
All faces are now turned toward
the head of the stretch where the
start will be made. For a few mo-
ments the horses and jockeys are
blended together. Then the red flag
a flash; there is leaping line of col
or, swiftly moving before the column
of dust, and the race for the Oaks
is begun.
The line which has extended across
the track from fence to fence narrows
toward the inner rail, a fan closing
the dust has become a flaming yellow
banner behind, the sunlight shifting
through it; the Jockeys colors have
begun to take separate form, and the
figures of the horses to regain their
Identity The first to catch the eye
is Tantrum, who was shot out from
the bunch, her cleaning black body
clear of the field The Californians
are close behind her, with Kathleen
and Elizabeth at their shoulders,
while Ike and Old Folks are locked
half length away. Sweeping by
the grand stand Tantrum opens up
gap of daylight. The Californians
are still second, length before the
Johnson pair.
The pace is growing hotter. The
long necks of the horses are stretched
and the race is on in earnest. AS
they round the first turn, Tantrum
is still leading, but the distance has
been cut down to alength. The field
behind her are a solid body with the
horses heads so close together they
touch each other Suddenly there is
tumble. A half-suppressedc cry comes
up from the grand stand; and out
from the mass, like cat tossed from
a balloon, come Old Folks and the
mare. They look to be standing
still, so fast do the field leave them
Colonel Bill, whose trained eye has
not lost a movement of the race
turns his head away and groans
"Cut down." Five lengths, ter
lengths, twenty lengths, the others
are leaving them as the waves leave
a wreckage.
And now the grand stand utters a
cheer of encouragement. The jockey
once more has his mount in her
stride. At the sound of the cheering
= the colonel looks up But his heart
; is like lead when he sees the awful
gap between the foremost horse and
the mare. He wonders, too, what's
wrong with the saddle; for the boy
left foot is not in the stirrup.
, They are well up the back-stretch
with poor Tantrum slowly falling
, back, her race run. The Californians
are forging to the front, with Cleo
; patra at their saddle-skirts, Ike
merely steadying her. A length
: away are the field, well punched
while twenty lengths behind, out O
the race, are Old Folks and the mare
, AS they thunder by the third quar-
ter-pole, the colonel rubs his eyes
Is he dreaming? Is the mare really
: closing up the gap? He looks again
, Old Folks is bumped up on the mare:
t shoulders like monkey; and with
out pushing her, he is surely gaining
] ground. The colonies heart is beat
y ing so hard he can hear each throf
e as he closes his eyes to test tn,
: truth of what he sees. When h,
opens them again, he gives a whooI
that sounds across the reaches of thu
: track like bugle-call. for the mar