The Caucasian., 1897-07-08
OLE MISTIS.
Winner of the Most Famous Race
Ever Run on Tennessee Soil.
IContinued from last week.

Continued from last week.
But although the sun shone 20
brightly on the fertile fields and
splendid mansion Of Col. Dinwiddie.
there was little Of its sunshine in the
heart OF its owner on that May day,
nifty years ago. With . paper In
nand, near sunset, he sat ont on his
front veranda, looking dreamily and
mood:ly ahead at q sloping whea,
Held across the pike. How beautiful
it looked! How the recent rains had
brought it out, filing its golden
meshes-thsse chaff thatched grana-
ries-with the product of the sun
and soil! Near, the big popIars in
his own yard lifted their red and
yellow wax blossoms to heaven or
showered them ON the blue grass
carpet below. A hundred sweet fra
grances filing the evening air. a
hundred homely sounds fell on his
ears. Among them, and dearer
than all others, was the occasional
whinney OF stately matron in the
paddock beyond. disturbed for a
moment because her own sucking
had strolled off to caper and plav
mimic racing with some other mares
degenerate offspring.
my faculties are peculiarly acute
this evening"" said the master to
himself, or else l am q rank coward.
unable to stand misfortune. never
saw the old place have such a charm
BEFORE" he continued half aloud. II
don't mind giving it up so much on
my own account, but Anne'-
"What! fatheri" answered behind
him, q voice full of'sweetness. "Did
you call me?"-and a beautiful girl
stepped out from a bay window and
laying her hands affectionateIy on
his shoulders, reached over and play
fully kissed him.
With their faces thus together, it
would not require a close observer
to see the striking resemblance be.
tween Anne Dinwiddie and her
father Left motherless at an early
age. Anne had found in one parent
all the love and affection usually
given by two. Nothing could ex
ceed the colonel's tenderness and af-
fection for his daughter, and moth
ing Anne's pride, love and admira-
ton for her father. Perhaps her
life with masculine mind had given
a stronger turn to her own, instead
of the feminine cast and romantic
play that might have been expected
under other circumstances CIR, per-
haps she inherited it from her
father-a strong, firm man himself
for the girl was known as much for
her practical sense and firmness as
for her matchless beauty. This eve-
ning,. in her baby-waist gown of
white muslin, cut low-neck and short
sleeves, her auburn hair gracefully
coiled behind a shapely head and
tucked IN with a large mother Of
pearl comb, inlaid with gold, her
face aglow with silent happiness
which bespoke another love within,
the girl was divine, and her father
drew her to her old place on his
knee-for though nearly twenty she
was to him the little tot of two
years-the same he wept over in her
crib the night after her mother was
laid away forever, and the first grief
of his life came to break in on his
ambition-the ambition "to breed
the best horse that ever lived on the
best farm in Tennessee.
The colonel was a man that spoke
to the point, and of few words. In
his daughter he found q mind in
which his own sought help and ad-
vice. All his business was known to
her. Even many of his breeding
problems he had tried to solve with
her aid, and it was no little, for she
had pedigrees and records at her
tongues end, and knew the great
horses of the past as mariners did
the stars.
my child" said her father, blunt
ly, II have gambled once too often;
/ am afraid I've ruined u.s." and he
looked away across the wheat fields.
An expression of pain came over
the girls strong face, but she said
nothing. This one question of gam
bling on horses was the only one on
which her father and herself had
differed, and the look she now wore
showed that at last had happened
what she always feared would hap
pen. At length she asked:
"How much is itP"
"Forty thousand dollars his
eyes still on the distant fields.
"Can you pay it," in tone which
showed she was more afraid of her
fathers honor suffering than of be-
ing left penniless herself.
"Not unless I sell the horses"
"Then sell them," came the quick
answer.
"And the farm" he continued.
"Let it 60, too"
"My child" said her father, as he
rested his eyes steadily on her face,
''of course I shall if it comes to the
worst, but-but-" and he caught
himself stammering like q school
boy, as he gazed in the sweet, hon
est eyes of his Anne,
there is is-another" he stopped
again. with look of positive annoy.
ance on his clear-cut face. The twl.
light shadows had fallen, the lamps
were lit in the hall, but still the
father broke not the silence.
"Cur'pony! Cur'pony! Cur'ponyv
came from across the meadow, as thu
stable boy stood in the pasture and
called up the yearlings for Their
evening meal. Around the corner
of neat cabin a sprightly young
negro was picking q banjo, accom-
panying the deep, rich notes of tn,
instrument with . voice in perfec
sttune-"Ahoo-a, au' er-who-ah-
ahoo-a, Observation-Disclosures
sounded the voice on the still even
ing air, and the echoing strings 0
the banjo repeated-ahoo-ahoo!
"But what, fatherf" at lengtl
asked the daughter.
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