The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1904-08-15

Gus end suffers more over it than all
the rest Of the onlookers combined. AT
the I.atonia track, a few years ago,
saw an old-time owner and trainer sud
denly loose his reason when SVEN old
, printer belonging under his shed broke
a leg in a race had to be shot. s- L.
THE sprinter was an aged gelding
and had belonged to the one owner
since his weanling days. The horse
was as honest as the longest day Of the
year in the land of the midnight sun
and on several occasions when his own
err and out the old horse had loped out
and brought i'm the money in string at
ter string of victories.
"On the day that the horse crossed
his foreIegs and went down in heap
in the stretch, his owner rushed up the
track, waving his arms like a wild
man, and shouting incoherently. He
| Just got up to the horse q second after
the patrol judge had put a ball between
the animals eyes, and he attacked the
patrol judge with hands and teeth. He
had always been quiet, self-contained
man, and they all saw at once that the
death of his good old horse had bowled
over his reason.
They tried to surround him and talk
him into cooling out, but the man was
blind gone, and he broke through the
Gordon and raced for the fence. Late
that night he rang the bell at Catho-
Ilic priests rectory and demanded to
see the head father. When the priest,
imaging it to be a summons to death
bed, made his appearance, the erazed
owner produced a bundle of money as
big as his hat and tossed it at hinl.s
90 want you to say 10000 masses for
the repose Of horses SOUL he said to
the priest.
THE priest, after making what sense
The could out of the story, quietly called
an ambulance, and the owner Of the
dead horse was taken to a private ward
lin a Cincinnati hospital, where he got
lback to himself in a couple of days.
But to this day when some unknowing
lchap mentions the name of the horse in
that mans presence he bursts into q
Isort of hysterical, womanlsh, pitiful
numbering that 1t would hurt you even
to listen to.
Down in Kentucky there is famous
and wealthy breeder of racehorses, a
Imam who has sent many Of the equine
lgiants of their epochs to the Eastern
traces, who is so attached to every ami
Imal of his vast breeding estate-and
There are hundreds of them-that he
Twill not remain on the ranch, nor even
lin the State of Kentucky, when the
lday comes for the chloroforming Of
one Of the old four-legged producers to
put him or her out of misery.
HE can't stand for the idea of being
Inear them when their hour comes to die
1.-THE chloroform death.
His foreman always notifies the old
Imam when one of the horses is in such
Ia condition that there IS nothing for IT
hut the death by the drug. Then the
lold man goes out to the shed, takes a
Hast look and farewell of the doomed
brute, after which he packs grip and
sneaks up to washington or New York
Tor Chicago until he is informed that i
lis all over.
Every one Of the dead stud animals
on that place is buried under mound
with a headstone, on which is carved
lall of the horses notable performances
land triumphs, together with the names
lof the animals most distinguished
progeny. The old man isn't any senti.
lmentalist, either, except as to his
horses. Yet when, few years ago, i
was seen thatsone of the greatest of hi'
Istaiiions- one Of the noblest racehorses
that ever stood on ironwas all in ant
ltottering to painful death, he actual.
Traced for New York and took steamel
flor Europe so as to be out in mid
locean when the fayorite, of all his flocl
lwent to his death by the chloroformet
sponge route.
And yet, consider how much better
q quick death for thoroughbred i
than a life of prolonged misery ant
degradation! Tonight that grand
horse Banquet, one of the sweetest ami
lmals that ever peeked through a bridl
in this country. is hitched to a nigh
liner in London, pulling drunken roist
erers from one music hall to another
II saw Banquet doing that with thes'
lamps. And / guess perhaps It didn
Ihurt!n York Sun
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