The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1894-03-13
LUCKY" BAhDwIS's RANCH.

sCribcd-Thn TruU LoVCr of Horses.
The following extracts from private
letter from Wheeling man who visited
the famous ranch OF Lucky" Baldwin
will prove interesting to all lovers OF
horses and tho race track:
Last week | made my visit to Santa
Anita, tho ranch OF Lucky" Baldwin,
in Southern California.
As | sat in tho grand stand Of this
princcly race track, watching tho akillod
trainers developing tho muscle and fine
points OF 30 many blOOdcd horses, thore
rushed across my mind the career Of
this man Lucky" Baldwin, tho liking
OF the turf" tho prince OF racing
gamblers" and the probable aud in.
probable impossbilitios he has taken
in the great game OF chance throughout
his life.
What enormous sums OF money no
has lost or won on the heat OF one OF his
iuvorite horses! lessons never to fear
the final result, but backs them still
heavier the noxt time, il they should
fail him this time.
All, those wonderful horses Of his
Who has not heard OF themP No one
knows but him OF the anxiety entailed
in raising them; tho patience and care
with which he trains them for the great
purpose OF making winning Of their
short lives for his qualification.
Have you ever seen q group OF old
horacmen listening TO good story OF
some by-gouu race? You see the glow
OF fond interest in their eyes, for each
ono has his own little memories Of that
particular day." and when the narrator
comes to where the "little Jockey
Andy" pushed Long Shot" under the
wire nose ahead OF Poor Boy" one Of
those old chaps wipes away n tear
which has been gently stealing down
his cheek. What caused those emo
tons? 1t was only the memory OF
that race" "that horse" for on his
winning Of that race" ne had risked
all his "tin," and then bought him and
owned him till his death.
One must be lover OF horses to un-
derStand the feelings OF such men. An
ordinary man goes to the race track
merely TO pass an idle afternoon. He
wandcrs lis;lossly among tho horses,
the Jockeys, tho bookmakers, gradually
absorbing tho spirit OF excitement; he
puts up "iver" on Ebay" or
"black" or OH account OF some fancy,
and marches off TO the grand stand 10
see the race, recognizing his horse by
its colors.
Perhaps his horse frcts and behaves
like spoiled child; why not? She has
been brought up rs iondly as a mother
would bring up an only child. But
what a beautiful animal she is Strong,
graceful and clean limbed. 4 perfect de-
light to the eve. II you are north
orncr as am, you wonder il kentucky
and California, the birthpIacos OF these
perfect, fascinating horses, contain MS
lovely, perfect, fascinating women. AT
any rate you have heard, or think go,
and you silently determine that next
winter you will take q trip into sunny
Kcntucky-somewhere, you can't ex-
aC,ly locate the spot, for you are not
looking for blue grass but for pair OF
blue eyes. Oh, don't be getting startled,
my dear-ior have not found her yet,
and "my ship has not come in" The
shouts OF the people rouse YOU from
your silent, but pleasant dreams"
They are off! They are off" brings
You to reality OF time and place, and
tho bit OF pasteboard you clutch in
your fingers stands you chance to win
twenty-five for the five you invested;
the reason Of the difference was that
tho talent" thought your choice was
that OF ''tendorioot.'
On they 90! away past the first quar-
ter post, then the hall post, tnree-quar-
ter post. and around into tho "home
stretch" Oh, what n wonderful thrill
goes through you from top to toe!
Why? You don't know why, but YOU
know that tho sight before your eyes Is
one fit for tho gods. You jump to your
feet, in unison and as il part OF tho
thousands around you who arc equally
excited, your eyes are on the CRIMSON"
lie wins No, he loses. You frautical.
ly pull the coat-tal OF tho nearest man
and tell him "she wins" This shows
your sympathy with man. for the
other fellow shouts, "fes, she
wins" for no thinks that you mean tho
horse on which he has staked his
money Now the great strain-ior
only fifty yards more until tho race Is
over. The jocky on your favorite rides
as steadily US Centaur. never raises
the whip TO strike, for he knows his
colt from childhood; that only word is
necessary, for she would do anything
for him but she must not DO struck or
spoken to Grossly; she has good blood
in her, and would resent such IN in
suit. Suddenly it is all over. The
judges flag has fallen, and your favorite
has won by n neck. Hurrah! or you
rush in high glee TO cash your ticket
and pocket your S25 from the discon.
ISOLATE but talented booliic." And, BY
the way, that is wha, makes n horse
race. ior Mark Twain says that what
makes q horse race is the difference OF
opinion among men,"
Now, ii this fellow Of my creation
should wish to learn to be lover OF
horses, lot him follow me to the stables,
or paddocks. rs horsemon term them.
There we find our favorite, covered
with blankets and being led around un-
til she cools down sufficiently for good
rubbing oil. Look in her keen blue
eyes. you can see CLEAN OF satisfaction
and pride, with still culver OF the ex.
element OF the race left. Her every
breath and Quiver, shows that she
knows she won the race. Watch her,
us her trainer aud owner come near;
the dumb exhibition OF fondness, as
they caress and pet her, and rub her
Gloosy nose, and tell her she Is good
and brave little animal to win the race
for Thorn, and so much money"
All, here comes the genuine lover OF
horse. You recognize in him the
chap whose coat tails you so excitedly
and sympatheticalIy clunG to in the