Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-06-28

all mans teeth II he didn't watch ana
keep himself a-bobbin'."
$50 on" said Maude, with a laugh. 81
suppose you are going to tell me the gray
is thoroughbred"
"Oh, no! I have learned quite enough
to know that a thoroughbred can't ride.
And, sub, have paid for my education
in horses"
$50 have l." said Maude, with remi-
riscent expression. go on"
''All right; give me time. Well, as 1
said, I'd always raised horses, but new
er had sold one for much of anything.
One night | received sample copy of a
horse paper, and l read it clean through.
An article in it was Advice to Breed
ers.' l have had it framed and hung up.
In it I saw what struck me as being
newly discovered axiom: 1t costs no
more to raise one horse than another, a
well-bred horse than a scrub, horse
easily sold for five hundred dollars than
one hard to sell for fifty There was a
gold mine, dollar rolling uphill, a
chance nugget of wisdom. Why had l
never thought of it before? But where
was the proof of the statement! All
handy. Appended was the list of prices
realized at the sale of the Musquetah
thoroughbred yearlngs. Five hundred
was nothing. | found two over four
thousand, and one over six. [ sent off to
Musquetah and bought a richly bred
mare. She came, and l had a palace
built for her. Well, in due time the colt
came, and then my rawlings began. L
left my Office and stayed at home to take
care of him. l nursed him through
scours, very bad case; distemper, three
times eczema, slight; rheumatic fever,
serious; kick on the hook, near broke his
! leg; a curious swelling under the jaw,
no name known, quite bad; and stide dis
| location, recurrent. The horse doctor here
| said he had never seen u colt develop
so many disorders and get crippled so
often, in his forty years at the trade.
One morning I arose early, after night
of thought. In the barnyard a group of
sows with fat, black, little pigs, were
nosing around contentedly. My plough
horses were coming out to work. They
looked fat and sleek, though | knew the
niggers hardly curried them. A negro
stepped up to me: Better look at Buck
hams this mawnin',' he said; he walks
mighty funny l opened the door of the
palace, and there he was, off his feed as
usual, rough coated, sullen eyed, one hind
leg drawn up. Stif1e dislocation again.
| Bring him OUT | sais. | went to the
! wood pile and got an ak. When l came
back, there sat that red-headed horse
doctor in the yard. He must have read
my intentions rightly, for he got down
and pleaded for the colts life, pointed
out the remarkable history, medically, Of
the case, and touched on the cost of rails
ing him so far. At this | gripped my ak
tighter. Finally he said that for fur
Their services he would not charge; that
he had gained more knowledge and prac-
tice out Of this colt than in all his pre-
vious life, with his veterinary course
thrown in; that it was liberal education
for him. 1 gave in, and we took break
fast together"
"What d'you say his name wasF
Maude asked.
"Buckingham-Buck' hams, the niggers
call him"
"And what became of him?'
"He grew up into a great big no-count
whale of a horse that not even the mig
gers would ride, and who jumped any
fence in the cyounty if it led into Gavin
| field. He never had a sick day, hardly.
after the vet said he'd treat him free.
! He wouldn't drive; he bust everything
| wide open the only time we tried to
plough him, and we never did catch him
| till snow; and l finally traded him for a
| 7-year-old mule with a big hook and gall
| on her shoulder-and the best trade l
| ever made in my life"
''To a man named Terry"
"The same-you haven't bought him,
have your
Gave a hundred and fifty for hila yes
| terday."
| "WeI! He couldn't "a sold him to
| anybody but a-to somebody that liked
| thoroughbreds." Henry looked at Maude
| with real commiseration. why, he
| tried to trade him back to me for a grade
| shorthorn cow and calf last court HUI
| Ioa. who is this! Mrs. Darlington, Hugh's
aunt. Haven't seen her in town in a
year. She doesn't often make the IS
mile trip from her plantation now"
Maude looked out, to see coming up
| the street cumbrous carriage, with an
old negro in a pot-hat, Of the style Of
some fifty years ago, on the box, holding
the lines over a pair of rough-coated
plough horses The harness was old,
| heavy, and mounted in brass, and even
at a distance one could make out pieces
| of wire assisting to hold it together, the
whole equipage a relic of bygone glory
on one of its periodic excursions from its
decent retirement. But two pretty girls
| looked out of the windows, very brave
in ribbons and bright frocks, and an old
| lady bowed solemnly to some storekeep-
ers gossiping on the pavement. They IN
return made profound bows.
II say" said Maude, shaking his head;
"where but in Virginia can you see this 2
| The persons in the carriage did not
seem to realize that there was anything
| extraordinary in their turnout. They
were laughing gayly as the coach passed
out of sight.
| Later. Maude was standing on the
brick pavement of the yard, when the old
lady of the befo' the-war heirloom came
| in at the gate She was dressed simply,
in good taste, and carried her slight fig
ure with dignity.
| DO you happen to know whether Mr..
| Henry is in his Officer" she said, accost-
ing Maude.
"Yes, madam" he answered. May l
show you the wayT