Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-11-25

ring ara PLAYS the morse mus lDuicdlto
with all OF the trustful innocence of child
hood. Il is not that trainers, as a rule.
Intentionally throw" their friends; II Is
that they are notorious hoodoos. II they
We're not hOcdoos they would not be train
ers: they would be owners, and they would
drive out to the track every day with
40 frot-ar in front of them. instead or
chewing straws around the stables. There
are wise men who even copper the IN
formation of owners, for some owners.
also belong tC the hOodoo class.
is your horse good enough to win to-
dave one of these Jonah owners is asked
:! 'FrsiI not today" replies the owner,
whereupon the man who has sought the
information goes out into the ring and
taps himself on the horse whose owner
doesn't think he is good enough 70 win.
Interesting Personages.
The paddock visitors flock around the
scales where the jockeys weigh in and
watch that ceremony with vast interest.
The man who has bet or is going to bet on
certain horse devotes particular attention
to the midget who is going to ride that
horse as If the hoyee exterior might tell
him something of how the race is going 20
result. They are an ordinary enough look
ing set OF little chaps. and in knicker-
bCckers if YOU didn't know anything about
them. they wouldn't attract any more of
your attention than other kids that play
on vacant lots on Saturdays But in the
jockeys rig. with his saddle on his arm
ard MS valet ttS{Cle NlIt IeduN 10 tame TIE
saddle after the weighing, the small boy IS
an entirely different being. III fact. he Is
d parsonage. 1t is to be considered that
millions OF men and women in the United
States are perfectly familiar with the
names and the riding abilities of these lit
tie tads. and that plenty of them make
much and more per annum as Admiral
Dewey. When little Winnie OConnor. for
example. steps on the scales the men in the
paddock crowd around. The slender, pale
faced little daredevil always looks. when
he is weighing In. as If he would whole
lot prefer to be playing marbles somewhere
or another: he is the picture of indifference.
a totally blase child He Skylarks with an
other boy behind him he Is about to he
weighed. and is promptly called down by
old Mr.. Cricknore. the clerk of the scales,
10 whom no jockey IL a hero: and ten
minutes later the boy is riding like veri-
table fiend. taking chances on his life such
as no other jockey has taken on the Amer
lean turf for many years.
Women Mt the Races.
The young women IN the grand stand,
out for holiday with husbands or broth
ers. are increasing. They are provided
with programs and they select the winners
OF the horses according to the names there
of. If this system does not appeal to them
they pick the horse that looks the INCEST
Ia the warm-up gallOps. They look at their
men folks incredulously when they are
told that the handsrmest horses are fire.
QuttIlS tOuNItIltllS. anu tIldl liOsl VI INC
horses that get the money are humble
looking. If not downright homely. After
their men folks have made their WagerS III
the betting ring and return to the stand 10
watch the race. the women always eagerly
ask them what they played
Il don't like that one a Bit is the in
variable comment of the young women
with the programs and the eyes to see the
horses they like as being the incest.
1t IS part of the mans code on the race
track to display no excitement whatsoever
over the running of race-no jubilaucn
If he wins no Observation-Disclosures If he loses
and is hard hit. The young women. how
ever. are more natural. They criticise the
starter volubly while the horses are ma
neuveTing at the most aud when the field
gets away they stand on their chairs and
emit little screams from the beginning of
the race to the end. When her husband or
brother OF other male escort loses. the
young womans countenance looks crest
fallen and Ii would seem that wild horses
cannot prevent her from looking up at him
and saying. Didn't I tell you SOP
Over the Jumps.
But the superior sympathy Of the woman
crops out when the steepIechase races are
in progress. At every jump. when the fields
are closely punched, they seem to gasp, and
many of them are observed to place their
hands over their hearts agonizedly, while
the men remain stolid. When one Of the
jockeys is dumped the women scream all
In unison.
He's killed. they say, looking at each
other with wild faces.
"Oh. no." say the men with them, Coolly.
He just picked out nice soft spot and
slid off He was afraid he might win, don't
you see?''
THAT is cruel say the women, and the
men laugh as they the fallen jockey
pick himself up. dust off his clothes with
his cap and stroll across the nfield.
Too Deep for Words.
n well-known horse owner-a man noted
for his quiet manner under ordinary cir
cuInstances and the sulphurousness of his
speech when he is thoroughly riled stood
at the raf near the judges stand the other
day. watching u start at the six-furlong
pole. He had a horse in the race which he
had played heavily The field went away
to several false breaks, and when they
finally did get away for fair the owners
horse was left standing almost fiat footed
at the post. Men who knew the owner
stood by to hear an explosion that would
heat the woodwork of the stand The ex-
plOsion didn't come. The mans features
worked cOnvulsively for a moment but he
was spechIess He stopped down, scooped
up two heaping hands full of dirt, cast
them into the air and strobe off. 1t was
an entertaining portrayal OF a feeling that
was too deep for mere words.
Foolish MortaIs
The general sentiment on the way out:
i've got EN- all picked for a moral
The general sentiment on the way in:
Nothing doing"