News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1902-12-03

AA EdCllS man. L ate ) III
NV !? strument was his uncle, a
? rich and eccentric bach
i......? elor, to whom breeding
horses and running them
after had seemed the only things really
worth while in a vacuous world. When
death came a-knocking at the door, he
did not think so much about the JeWett
name. 1t was the Wynyard stable
which weighed upon his mind, so jew
EFT inherited his fortune cOntingently
upon keeping up the stable.
Jewett did not complain. He had no
consuming desire to keep on working,
though he had worked with fair sue
cess and hard enough to give an eX-
auisite relish to idling now that idling
was, il manner. a duty. Moreover,
he found himself nightly entertained.
The turf was wholly Il new field of OBJ
seryation to him. Bud Heaton, the
trainer whom Jewett had inherited
along with the stable, was Il continuing
delight Bud was a wiry fellow, six
feet at least, given to dislocating the
commemorative English and set in his
ways as the everlasting hills. He knew
a horse when he saw it alive and hay
ing it's being, but nothing living ever
moved him to enthusiasm. That was
the provocative of the dead. He had
a reverence amounting to almost awe
for pedigree Naturally, to his mind,
it was sacrilege of the worst sort to
name colt or tilly except in such
fashion as to at least suggest either
sire, dam or the bright particular star
of the line.
So when Jewett said of a sleepy
droop headed chestnut filly, long
WASTED to lankiness, Call her Sar-
saparilla; never saw a more palpable
case of that tired feeling" the trainer
protested:
Il tell you whut-no critter won't
never earn oats, much less nOthin
more. eff you call it out of its name
that away. That thar filly's bred ter
run-I-anovpr out Of a Great Tom
mare--Iittt. us she looks it. You jest
as well shoot her right now as ter
60 an name her somethin' that don't
mean nOthin'. Now, | had thought
Tomhanner would be just the size
Jewett shook his head obstinately.
"HeatOn, you are ungrateful and short
sighted" he said. The name strikes
me as a positive inspiration. You can
shorten it either way. In the stable
it may be Sassy or Rilly, just as you
choose"
Then he strolled off, laughing, with
his hands in his pockets. Heaton shook
a fist after him and slapped the FLY
on her quarter 1t was quarter full
of pOwer-in fact, there was a power
everywhere, although the creature was
modelled on lines so ungainly. She had
been highly tried, and HeatOn had
had great hope of landing with her
one of the big two-year-old events.
Now he said spitefuIly; "Win the
nursery nothin'! You couldn't win a
quarter race carryin' that name"
Sarsaparilla dropped her head and
looked sleeper than ever, but that aft
ernOon she picked up her name and
her ninety eight pounds and simply
smOthered a field that had the best
colts of the season in it. Still Heaton
was ugly. Wait. The hoodoo hasn't
had no time ter work." he said. Sure
enough the next week Sarsaparilla,
with her three pound penalty, came in
a bad last behind half the colts she had
defeated with such ease.
HIN. Turn her out and let her
grow up to the name" Jewett said
Inv Of n II p0 ton 6
lamentations. HeatOn would not agree
to that He kept the FLY going, and
she seemed to thrive on hard work.
She ate Justify, frolicked and pranced
in her exercise, nipped her rubber if
he did not use her exactly to her liking
and found out that she possessed a
fine, handy pair of heels. She also ran
beautifully-the day before a race.
Race days We're her chosen seasons of
elegant leisure.
After three months of it Jewett sent
her forcibly to grass. He had been
tempted to sell her, but selling, except
between seasons was against Wynn
yard stable traditions. Besides, the
FLY had won out more than a seasons
EXPENSES that LUCKY uISL llIne' CHe
came back to training in her three.
year-old form tanker. leggier, ungain.
lier than ever-speedier, too, when she
chose to run. The when was always
an unknown quantity until after the
race. Sometimes she ran her race ovel
night, after her old habit. At Others
she simply would not work, but went
away from the post like lamb anC
was never headed until she came t.
the wire.
If her owner had not been luck!
enough to back her decently when sht
lost and let her run loose when sh'
won, he would have come through thu
season without a thread of character
Heaton stuck doggedly to his antipath,
to the name, swearing over and owe
that as Tomhanner the brown mar
would have turned out another Mis-
Woodford or at least a bigger Firenz
Heaton believed in luck, you see. >
did Jim, the brown mares black rub
Der; so, most of all, did EXtry, he
rider, who was Jim's stepson, the Wyn
yard stables second jockey and a
near a bundle of whipcord, steel wiz
and whalebone as black lad eightee
years old well could be.
IL done call dat dar boy EXtry kas
he sholy wuz th'owed inter de mate