The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-10-30

Ter George had no track record. None
OF my horses have been track horses,
since my only object in owning fast horses
has been that 1 might win pleasure and
health by driving them. But Fuller
George was a better footer than Small
Hopes, as proved to the commodore one
pleasant June morning about twenty-five
years ago.
"a good many of the commodore's
friends had told him that Small Hopes
was all right, but he wasn't in the same
class as Fuller George. Vanderbilt pooh
poohed at that, of course. But all the
same, he understood full well that his
horse must beat mine or be beaten sooner
or later, and so he was on the lookout
for me-
AS I drove down the lane that morn
ing L saw the commodore sitting up stiff
ana straight behind his pride and joy
and noticed that he had his eve on me
and my horse. Small Hopes had his eye
peeled, too. High-bred horses know when
their drivers are getting ready to speed
them as well as the drivers do, and Small
Hopes was perfectly aware that he was
about to be tested. l was ready, of course
and so was my horse. But, as I wished
to beat the commodore In my own way,
let him drive up alongside me and get
almost length ahead.
when the hind wheels of his wagon
were about even with Fuller Georges head
L stirred him up little. Not by yelling
at him or by using the whip. 1 just
telegraphed along the relns by a slight
pressure of the left little finger My horse
knew what that meant, and from that
on the commodore could not increase the
lead. The race was fairly begun at One
Hundred and Forty-f1fth street and IL
lasted till we reached One Hundred and
Twenty-fifth-just a mile.
THE old Harlem club house stood at
One Hundred and Thirty-third street. and
a short time before we arrived there l
telegraphed TO Fuller George again. Then
he began to gain, inch by inch inch by
inch. Just In front of the club house we
were going a 218 clip, and you could have
covered both horses with blanket, as
the reporters say. Vanderbilt looked across
at me. 1 telegraphed Fuller George again,
and he logged by easily. Then the commo-
dore began to call on Small Hopes, and
the horse went right up In the air. There
was quite a crowd at the club house and
every man in II howled till he was hoarse
The commodore was so sore a bout 1t that
he never cared to mention the clrcum-
stance.
Vanderbilt a Reckless Driver.
Commodore Vanderbilt. though a skill
ed reinsman, was the most reckless driver
on the road In the old Harlem lane days,
and his collisions with other drivers were
frequent.
THE narrowest escape of my life was
when the commodore ran into me. / was
driving a single horse. He was driving
Mountain Maid and Mountain Boy He
was going up the lane and 1 was coming
down. l first saw him whizzing along
like a streak of creased lightning two or
three blocks away. his horses swaying
from side to side. AS near as 1 could tell
he was due to be on my side of the road
about the time we were to meet, and l
looked for trouble. So did my horse and
it was hard work TO keep him from turn
ing short about and upsettng me right
there. The crash came in less time after
that than can tell you of it. but l did
the best l could by swinging my horse so
that he wouldn't be pierced by the pole
of the commodore's wagon. The way !
fixed things my horse and Mountain Boy
came together so hard that it knocked
the breath out of both of them.
''Vanderblts rig was all smashed UP
and 1 thought the commodore was killed,
sure. He went right down among the
horses, head first. with his feet in the
air. and yelling like a wild Indian. The
shock Knocked him senseless. The wagon
was not damaged beyond the springing of
the front axletree and my horse was in