Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1906-10-18

would wait before the big stores,
watching the traffic and people, until
Mrs Jerry reappeared After lunch
con they generally took her through
the park or up and down the avenue to
teas and receptions. In the evening
iaey were often harnessed again to
take Mr., and Mrs Jerry to dinner,
theater or ball Late at night they
might be turned out to fetch them
home.
What long, cold waits they had,
standing in line sometimes for hours,
stamping their hoofs and shivering I'M
der heavy blankets, for stylish hack
ney, you know, must be kept closely
clipped no matter what the weather.
4 why. even Dan, muffled in his big coat
and bearskin shoulder cape, was half
/ frozen. But Dan could leave the foot
/ man on the box and go to warm him-
self in the glittering corner saloons,
| and when he came back it would be
the footmans turn For Topsy and
| Bonfire there was no such relief.
Chilled, tired and hungry, they must
stamp and wait until at last, far down
the street, could be heard the shouting
Of the strong lunged carriage caller.
! When Dan got his number they were
quite ready for the homeward dash.
1t was altogether too heavy work for
high bred hackneys, of course. Mr..
Jerry pointed this out, but to no use.
Mrs Jerry asked pertinently what good
horses were if not to be used. No, she
wanted no livery teams for the night
work. When she rode she wished to
ride behind Topsy and Bonfire. They
were her horses, anyway. She would
/ do as she pleased. And she did.
Summer brought neither rest nor re-
lief. Early in July horses, servants and
carriages would be shipped off to New
port or Saratoga, there to begin again
/ the unceasing whirl And fly time to a
docktailed horse is a season OF tor
ment
OF Mrs. Jerry, who had once reused
/ the Garden for his sake, Bonfire caught
| but glimpses. After that first day,
when he was novelty, he heard no
more compliments. received no more
pats from her gloved hands. But of
slight or neglect Bonfire knew nothing.
He curved his neck and threw his hoofs
high, whether his muscles ached or no;
| in winter he stamped to keep warm,
in summer to dislodge the flies; he did
his work faithfully, early or late, in
] cold and in heat; and all this because
he was son of Sir Bardolph and for
! the reason that it was his nature to.
Had it been put upon him he would
! have worked in harness until he
| dropped, prancing his best to the last.
| No supreme test, however, was ever
brought to the endurance and willing
ness Of Bonfire They just kept him
| on the pole, nerves tense, muscles
strained. until he began to lose form.
His action no longer had that grace
/ and abandon which so pleased Mrs.
/ Jerry when she first saw him. Long
standing in the cold numbs the mus
cIes It robs the legs of their spring
Sudden starts, such as are made when
you are called from line after an hours
waiting, finish the business. Try as he
might, Bonfire could not step so high,
could not carry a perfect crest. His
| neck had lost its roundness; in his
rump crease had appeared.
To Dan also came tribulation of his
own making. He carried fiat brown
| flask under the box, and there were
times when his driving was more a
matter of muscular habit than of men-
| tai acuteness. Twice he was threaten
ed with discharge and twice he solemn
lly promised reform. At last the inev-
table happened Dan came one morn
ing to Bonfire's stall, very sober and
very sad. He patted Bonfire and said
goodby. Then he disappeared.
Less than week later two young
hackneys, plump of neck, round of
quarter, springy of knee and hook,
were brought to the stable. Bonfire
and Topsy were led out of their old
stalls to return no more. They had
been worn out in the service and cast
aside like pair Of old gloves.
Then did Bonfire enter upon period
Of existence in which box stalls, crest
| ed quarter blankets, rubber tired
wheels and liveried drivers had no
part. 1t was a varied existence, filed
with toll and hardship and abuse; an
existence for which the coddling one
gets at Lochlynne farm is no fit prep
aration.
just where Broadway crosses Sixth
avenue at Thirty third street is to be
found a dingy, triangular little park
plot in which few gas stunted, smoke
stained trees make brave attempt to
keep alive. On two sides Of the tri-
angle surface cars whirl restlessly,
while overhead the elevated trains rat
tie and shrek. This part of the me-
tropolis knows little difference be-
tween day and night, for the cars new
er cease, the arc lights blaze from dusk
until dawn and the pavements are new
er wholly empty.
Locally the section is sometimes call
cd ttfhn claimants graveyard " During