Evening star., 1901-09-07
SEEN AT THE FUTURlTY

i SEATED near me on top Of the Sheepshead
Bay grandstand on Saturday afternoon
| last, said Washington man who went
| over to New York to see the running of the
great Futurity race, was q squat, stocky,
gray-haired and gray-mustached man with
| a very broad pair Of shoulders. He was the
father of well-known pugilist who sent
to the old country for his parents a few
months ago, and they are living with him
in his fine house at Sheepshead. The fight
er stayed with the old man on the grand
| stand for awhile, but when the betting was
| about due for the first race he went below
and disappeared in the crush. and he didn't
| return until the last race was being run
on. It was. I suppose. about as much as
ms HE was worth to get back, the crowd
was SO enormous.
THE father of the prize fighter studied
| the proceedings on the track with great ap-
parent interest and each time the horses
| rounded into the stretch he hoped up from
his seat and watched them earnestly, al
though he didn't give vent to any remarks
When the third race had been run off and
their tours with the opening betting on the
| big Futurity the old man looked around
| searchingly as If for the return of his
scrapping son, but the pug didn't show up.
Inen the old man began to lend ear to the
| conversations between the grandstand mes
sengers and their clients-most of whom
| were betting upon the Whitney horses to
| win the big event When one of the mes
i sengers passed by the old man dug into his
| trousers pocket and pulled out SO bill.
| :" 'Ofll bet this on Madden said he, with
rich brogue, handing the commissioner
| the note.
| "'Forty to ten Madden said the commits
| sioner. taking the bill and making a note in
! his little book. You'll remember that John
Madden, the astute owner of the winner of
| the race, Yankee, had another candidate.
| Gunf1re, In the race, and the pair were, of
| course coupled in the betting as the Mad
| den entry
| What koind av plug is this Madden?
inquired the old man of the busy commits
sioner. Me son do say that he ought t win
in walk.
".oh: Madden's all right replied the
grandstand messenger, amuSedly, and then
! ne went on about his business.
FROM the moment that he put his bet
| down the old man from the Emerald Isle
was on the ragged edge of interest and
seat, but stood up and gazed up and down
| the track with devouring eyes. When the
field of beautiful young horses paraded to
the post he seemed to be in veritable
fever of anticipation. There goes Nastur-
| tlum or that's King Hanover or there 8
| Flywheel, the crowd on the stand were all
| saying as the horses passed by the stand in
parade, and when the parade was finished
| and the field had started on the jogging
canter to the post the old man looked
greatly mystifed.
:, Snure' ne murmured to himself so
| that those around him heard him, 'Oi hear
thin a-talkin av all tn other bastes, but
| not Wor-rd about this horse Madden
| Those in the stand who overheard the
remark exhibited their amusement by grim
| nlng, but they were too busy watching the
| neid careering toward the post through
tnelr glasses to say anything to the old
man.
| Shortly before the horses lined I'D at the
| post. chunky, swarthy, black-musta ched
| man, plainly dressed, climbed onto the top
| or the stand and leveled his big pair of
HELD glasses at the distant post where the
rler. He was John Madden, the bralniest
and foxiest turfman in America, whose
morse Yankee swept first under the wire a
| 1ew moments later on. He was cool as
| tuberose during all of the preliminary
| breaks, and his demeanor was in funny
| contrast to that of the father of the prize
| fighter, who fidgetted about, now sitting
| down. only to hop up half a second later
and in general plainly laboring under tre-
| mendous anfc1patory excitement
| When the great cry They're off" went
| up the old man appeared to be struck into
chair and watched the plunging field ca
reering through the cloud Of dust away
| at the upper end Of the track with eyes
John Madden kept his glasses leveled on
| the field without the tremor of a muscle.
/ although the result Of the race involved
| something like $1OO, 600 in purse and bets
the mob on the stand as the field swept
from the bend into the stretch. Barron
cops the wadH yelled others. Look at De
others. and then the elder old man gazed
about him with puzzled CONSERVATION on
ms ms + features. Yes; but there comes Yam
teenth. when the great Madden colt with
superb burst. spurted into the lead At
this point, although the horses were still
a goo distance from the wire. the cool
pto
and dropped them into their case, closing
| the case with click. There was a cold
smile on his features and chill fires burned
| In his eyes. He knew that his horse was
| going to be the winner
Yankee! fairly screamed the crowd of
32.OOO men and women as the beautiful
Hanover colt flashed under the wire more
| than length to the good. Lux Casta gets
the place! was the next cry that went up,
as the outside-chance horse got under the
tape. And the long shot, Barron, cops
horse staggered home under punishment.
The old man was looking almost pa-
thetically into the faces of the men around
| him:
"'Who wins tn race, me bhoy?' he in
| quired hoarsely, plucking the sleeve of a
"'Yankee first, Lux Casta second, Bar
making dive for the ring.
The old man pulled out big bandanna
handkerchief. tottered into his chair and
AhOppCu MS DIoW SlOOIuly.
An It's divil tn wor-r-rd have Oi
heard this day about this Madden baste
that my son told me about he muttered.
John Madden. the owner of the winning
horse, heard the remark just as he was
preparing to go below, and he laid a hand
on the old mans shoulder
You played Madden, did your said he
In kindly way. We'll, You cash. I win.
I'm Madden ''
oh. .yeez are, are yeez?" said the fight
ers old dad, still hopping his brownie
thought that Madden was making game of
him. Well, thin, It's back t ye're stall f'r
yeez, Madden, an don't yeez be a-thryin' t
be funny wild human beins.' and then the
laugh went up on the famous horse owner
laugh in which he heartily joined He
explained the business to the scrapper,s
father, and when the betting Commissioner
returned and handed the old man over
crisp $50 note he stuffed 1t into his pocket
with the suuniest grin ever saw on race
track" S'
Pilgrim Memorial at Proyfncetovu
From the Boston Journal.
At public meeting of the Pilgrim Club
held in Brewster. Mass, July Is, the first
steps were taken toward the building of a