Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1907-08-24

New York--Thirty thousand eyes
some elevation from the ground and
supported by posts that are painted
white. A solitary man stands upon
the floor of the structure. He strides
back and forth and gesticulates vio-
lently. Sometimes he seems to appeal
in supplication. At others his ges-
lures are those of determined COM
mand. His lips are seen to move, but
the sounds of his voice are drowned
in the din of the throng
Below him is field of high-spirited,
sensitive, nervous and fractions thor
oughbred horses. Mounted on them
are mere wisps of boys, who jerk en-
ergetically at the bride reins, kick
with their heels and express their
thoughts vehemently into the ears of
the animals they are riding.
With snap and a stunning sound,
like the vibration of a string of a
double bass, the barrier is suddenly
released by the man on the platform,
and a dozen eager colts plant their
hOofs firmly into the soft soil of the
track, scrambling with the instinct of
their natures, which education long
and patient has developed to reach
| a place in front, while the monkeylike
boys on their backs, their sharp faces
| pushed forward eagerly into the wind
| peer on both sides of them to discern
| an opening where they may get through
and improve their chances to finish
| first in the race.
Thirty thousand eyes, scanning in
tently the turn of the track, follow
closely the running of the field, and
$4,000 voices begin to croak, and
scream, and babble. Some are the
| hysterical notes of nervous woman
| who has wagered half her weeks pin
money upon the race. Some are the
cultural roars of the .'touts," the stable
| followers and the hoarse criers of
wares and edibles. Some are the
cackle of superheated storekeepers
and possibly their clerks.
| Cry for the Favorite.
Through it all, and above it all, is
tie note of personality, the cry for the
popular jockey of the day 1t is a
| queer phenomenon of mighty sport
1t is the slogan of the American for
the individual who does things. The
horses are racing. The horses are the
| motive for the struggle, the backbone
| turtles ago, but the majority of the
vast mass congested within iron rail-
ings are shouting for the jockey
Afar down the course at the field
| stand one hears Come on, you
Miller," The exhortation increases in
volume, AID all the field stand appears
to be shouting, Come on, you Miller,'
| The thousands upon the lawn take up
the refrain, the bookmakers and their
clerks join in, if a Miller victory means
| victory for them, and at last there is
| Niagaralike thunder of appeal.
Come on, you Milleri" an anxious
| moment or two, then a wild screech of
| triumph, and the *Millerites" rush
away to obtain their gains, if Miller
| happens 20 have won.
There is barely day that it is pos
slble to miss this queer chain of Incl
dent at the race course, for the race
| goerS rush with enthusiastic favor to
the support of some jockey who. by
his skill and his knowledge of men
and animals. beats his fellow jockeys
in the daily tumult of track sport.
Names Live Long in Memory.
Time passes and boys grow old and
heavy The idol of the present day
Will be only the memory of the mast
yet the names of the great riders live
with Facegoers even longer than the
names of statesmen who were contem-
| poransous with them The senator
from New York of a decade ago NAV
De forgotten by another decade. but
the name of Tod Sloan will live for
century, and maybe longer. The
riding OF Garrison served to enrich
the phraSeology of the English lam
| guage, for a Garrison finish" is an
phcabie now to more things than a
| horse race Walter Miller. the lead
Ing ride- OF the United States at tho