The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1897-07-15
OLE MISTIS.
Winner of the Most Famous Race
Ever Run on Tennessee Soil.

nsaen; the bay Will set the pace, but
do you keep lup With him. easy -
you can. but up to him stay With
him. It's four miles, and q death
struggle: but the mare can 20 the
route. When you come in tho stretch
at the last mile, take this rswhids"-
drawing . keen whip-"and whip
her from the last eighth nome. It's
your only chance. and not much at
that. Do you hear mei"-for Jake
gazed at him in astonishment.
ter,''-slowly - "you shory
don't spec me ter whip ole Missis
wid disf'-apologetically.
Expect your thundered the
Ibid You hear what l saidi
Do as | tell you or I'll have the over
seer to fay you alive after this race.
Do you hear, nowf"
"Yes, Marster, said Jake, as he
took the whip and turned the mare
into line. But he mentally said:
"Whst! Ne beat ole Mistis wid
dis thing! Ole Mistis-my ole Mis-
tisf I'll take it myself fust! ShoIy
Marster ain't at hissef and he
looked around to see where the bay
horse, Lorraine, was. AT that mo-
ment Jim Weathsrall came up.
"Jake," he said, "what did the
colonel tell youi" Jake told him.
"That's all right; now listen to me.
Do you see that path of firm clay
there in the center of the tracki
Well, it runs from the last eighth to
the wire. / worked all the morning
with ten teams. l put it there. The
track is too soft for the old mare,
Jake; and. besides you know how
she is. She's foolish about things at
the old home, amt she, Jakea"
"Dat she is, Marse Jlm.'
"And we've run her on the clay
path in tha orchard for weeks,
haven't We, Jakei Well, now, boy,
what We want to do is to make the
old mare feel at home. When you
come round the last time throw her
on this path-the footing is good
cut her loose, and I don't believe
any Of them can head you!"
Jake nodded. "And don't forget
this" he said, i've got . thousand
dollars in my pocket to buy you if
you win this race, and, on the word
of Jim Weatherall, I'll set you free.
DO you understand me, Jake7"
The negro's eyes sparkled. "l'll
win it eny way. ef can, Marse
Jim" and Jake waited for the word.
But all were not ready, and the
longer they waited the more intense
became the boys anxiety. Left to
himself in crowd of rough jockeys
who did what they could to frighten
the mare and annoy The boy, it was
almost pathetic to see him reach
over and stroke the great gray'l
neck and say to her: "Doncher be
afeered, ole Mistls-dis am Jake
little jake" and then he would add
softly and tenderly, my ole Mlstis-
my ole Mistisi"
And what a wonderful change
came over the mare! Not to day. .,
she had been on former occasions
was she nervous and unruly, whirl
ing round and round, endeavorinl
to break away, or refusing to line
up. Her entire nature seeme(
changed-Jake's presence was magi
cal. She stood perfectly still, quie
and apparently Indifferent - ant
only in her quick, glancing eye ant
the almost imperceptible play of he,
ears could close observer have seel
the great struggle going on within
her-a struggle to control the frantic
desire for wild flight-a desire in
herited from an hundred ancestors
now fighting for possession of he
nature. It was . grand example
even in q brute, of will conqueriu'
passion, of dumb intelligence con
trolling brute force, of q small "a
of human reasons, playing like q
electric spark through clouds Q
tumultous darkness and waiting 70
the explosion that would make th
thunderbolt!
The starter is talking-Jake knew
not what, but he gathers the rein
tighter. The flag drops; the ball 9
living, fiery flesh is shot; q roar Al
swers back from the grand stan
which says, They're off! They i
off! !"
Jake had great confidence in h
masters judgment. Ignoring ever
other horse he kept, his small, blac
eyes on the big, galloping bay. an
his staggering, insolent drive
Unused to the crowd and the fyiu
speed, the sensation of riding 50 fas
for the first quarter, was almo
painful to Jake-he appeared
himself to be flying in the air, tie
to q projectile. The roar of Il
wind in his ears hurt them;
lodged instinctively, and with
; silent prayer laid his mount on Il
side of the bay and held her in. II
| rider of Lorraine was an old jock'
| and knew as we'll as the gamble
what horse he had to beat, IS we'll [
the almost invincible prowess OF b
/ own horse-there was nothing the
: could beat him!
= "Don't ride 80 fast, little mig
+ shouted to Jake in derision. sc
de rest of us q shown; we've got
: miles to &C; don't pump US out
! fust mile.'
But this disturbed not Jake. II
? negro has one quality overtoppil
t ali others it is his infinite patienl
. And Jake was . true type OF I
i race. He said nothing, but no sna
r in the swamp had . quicker eye,
t knew better when to strike.
As the Colonel had said, Lorai
had set the pace, and it was }
enough. ''Bnt look, Anne" he sai
o chow the mare goes to his girth .
, stays there! See with what . b<
and assuring stride she flies along
Is easy, graceful, unconcerned.
,. never saw her run 30! Great God
= she win only win!r And AM
. when she saw the gallant fight, eri
It softly to herself and sent mp . Ill,
3 prayer.
y sCum on little wooley- head, (" D
1, Loraine's rider @ they passed
l. first mile, ''d;s am gwinter be
( hoss-rae Pm jss playing wid ,