Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-21
Banouet-What follower of the thor

Banquet-What follower of the thor
oughbred game who has served his two
decades of apprenticeship at the thing
doesn't remember that name with a sort
of swirling Of the blood in his head?
For Banquet, gelding though he was
was one of the rare earners of that title,
the mighty Mighty he was, in frame
heart and sinew; mighty in courage
mighty in endurance, mighty in willing
ness, mighty in an undertaking temper of
sweetness, mighty in every quality that
horses.
And the glorious hours that he lived in
his day of might. Days when men of
distinction schemed and scrambled for the
chance to stroke his soft muzzle, when
beautiful women fed him Jumps of sugar
from dainty hands after he had invincibly
won some great race, when tens of thou
sands of wrought-up men and women
ragged within themselves for the pure love
and honor Of him, when, after his jockey
had sat in the floral chair Of triumph, he
himself, the conQuering horse, was led
away to the paddock with double wreaths
of roses flung about his beautiful neck!
So gentle that any little babbling young
one could walk around in his STALL so ire
mendous in action, in his day Of youth,
that he rarely, when right, lowered his
owners colors to the colors Of any other
mans horse. Banquet fought the fight and
stood the crucial test just as long as he
had his youth to nourish him.
Then. the freshness Of his youth gone,
he failed-failed beyond the sea- Falling
he met as cruel finish as ever befell
horse or man. He was veritable equine
NebuchadneZzar
Banquet belonged, as it seems unneces-
sary to remind the older generation Of
turf followers, to Mike Dwyer, the IA
nous plunger Of a couple Of decades ago,
who died in misery from locomotor ataxia
a year or so ago.
Nobody will ever know just how much
money Banquet won for Mike Dwyer in
stakes and bets-particularly in bets. For
long he was Dryers chief wealth winner
True as steel, and with never a symptom
Of the rogue or the sulker in him, Banquet
was horse for master-plunger, such as
his owner was, to bet on every time he
went to the races. Dwyer did bet on him
the mark to say that Dwyer won literally
hundreds Of thousands Of dollars in bets
on Banquet. The horse did everything
that was asked Of him. and some i'm
willingness was a byword. and his ac-
complishments are part Of American
turf history, and a thrilling part Of that
same
Well, Mike Dwyer. his fortunes waning
in this country took his depleted string of
racers to England for a campaign on the
English tracks, and Banquet, full of honors
in his own land. went along.
The raw, drear climate of England didn't
agree with Banquet. and he went back,
trained OH, lanRulSneO. Inc chill WlnQS
Of Britain took the fire out Of him. He
couldn't win. He wasn't in shape to win.
He'd been campaigned steadily, with no
let-up, in America, for years, anyhow. and
was entitled to a rest. He tried to do the
trick in England, but he wasn't there with
1t. He went off in flesh till he became the
merest shadow of the mighty Banquet of
the United States-and still Dwyer raced
him, and raced him to ingloriouS defeat
time after time.
That English campaign of Dryers was
one protracted disaster, and the beginning
of his downfall as noted owner and
plunger. None of his horses could do any,
thing worth mentioning on the other side.
Dwyer came back to the states with the
haste of a general in full retreat. One day
shortly before that return Dwyer was seized
with sudden rage over the poor showing
in a race made by the broken-down Ban
Quet.