The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-02-23

snd fraudulent entrance, to tho tall,
stout man who signs as his thoughts arc
waited back to college days-all arc
there, leaning over or in close proXim-
ity to the low fence.
Back of this crowd is the grand stand
moderately we'll filled with matronly
ladies. papas, carpet knights and pretty
girls, some of whom doubtless havo
sons, or nephews, or brothers, or lovers
among the knot Of athletes out there
on the green.
1t is a glorious day-a typical DC tobcr
one. The lawn is elastic; the track is
superb. The air is bracing, with an
aroma of Indian summer in it; and over
every thing, as if Jupiter Olympus him
self had blessed this special occasion
with his supcrnal appreciation, is the
smiling azure of perfect sky.
a very small boy, with his chin just
1evcl with the crest of tho railing, to
which he clings tenaciously, refusing to
be hribed or coaxed from his cnviable
position, says:
'There they goes on the two-twenty,
Tommy and looking ever the stretch
of green we SEQ a bunch of seven or
eight forms, dressed in white and blue
and red, bound off, as if propelled from
the pistol whose sharp report reached
our ears moment later.
Round tho end Of the course thcy
come, keeping we'll together; tho inev-
liable winners, however, drawing slow.
ly ahead Ono hundred yards remain
seven ty-five-and look! Out of tho
half-dozen stragglcrs there darts . form
dressed in blue-a tall, fair, slender
youth. There is cry of warning to
the two men who are leading neck and
neck, from some partisan! They turn
their heads as they strain every muscle,
land i'll that moment the form in blue is
"a foot behind them-abreast, ahead!
and goes flying past us, tho winner in
twenty three seconds! | hear Il "well
done, boy, in deep voice that trem-
bles, and / look up and see that tho
stout gentleman's face is flushed, and
that there are tears in his eyes. And
then the boy in blue comes over
and shakes the big man by the hand
and the father puts his arm through
that Of mis- son, and goes off with him to
the dressing-room in tho seventh
heaven of manly pride, and happier
than he has been for many long day.
The race of the day, the mile" is on
nov; and some of the contos tan is, robed
I'm long blankets, are stalking up and
down the path, or running slowly on
their toes. in that preliminary little
icanter that is such mystery to the ma
,jority of the onlookers
Tho names arc called and Green" is
missing. Who is ''Greon?" Nobody
knows him. None of tho clubs or run
ming men have ever heard of him. But
as If replication to the expressed
curiosity, now become general. a very
small boy dressed in very large home
spun clothes. and bedccllcd in a Byron
collar, an enormous cravat and low
crowned stiff hat ambles down the
course between the grand stand and the
fence, and sputtcrs between long inter-
walls of breathing:
'Jim's-comin'! He's COMMIT Here's
dim! Our-ole Observation-Disclosures the
Shat this side-of Billin's lIollcr-
strikin' Rube-Gray's waggin! Rube
'as drunk-blame i'm! An run in-on
Jim! But We got--here-just the same.
Here's Jim now!"
Attention was now centcred on "Jinr
that genuine. undivided public atten-
ton that will forget you a moment later
If your head sinks an inch below the
line of novelty.
Give you three minutes, Green"
tcalled the starter, and 'Greens" dust.