The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1913-08-07

Kentuckians. The thoroughbred w
part of their lives and their trad
tions. Through him many made the
bread. Over the fairest of all the
fair acres he ran, and save for the
wives and children they loved hi
best of all.
Once each year for many year
they had come from all parts of tn
smiling bluegrass country to waite
the Struggle between the sati
coated lords of speed that determine
which was king. This journey wa
like a pilgrimage, and worship wa
in their shining eyes, as tier on tie
| scanned their eager faces.
And now three things happened
A bugle called-and called again
The crowd grew deathly still. Anc
Mrs Dillon, in voice that reminded
me of frightened child, asked:
where is Blister?"
Hell be here" said Judge Dillon
patting her hand. And even as a
megaphone beloved: eve are now
ready for the thirty-ninth renewal of
the Kentucky Derbyl" Blister
squeezed through the crowd to the
door of the box.
He was rock upon which we i'm
mediately leaned.
Everything all right?" asked.
"Fine as silk" he said cheerfully,
dropping into a seat. YOU'LL see a
race boss run today! Here they
comel She's in 'front.'" and, held to
a proud sedateness by their tiny ri
ders, the contenders in the derby filed
through the paddock gate.
At the head of these leashed fall
cons was naughty, FURNISHED, slen-
der legged beauty-the proudest of
them all. Her neck was curving to
the bit and she seemed to acknowl-
edge with gracious bow the roar of
that greeted her. She
bore the number upon her satin
side and dropping my eyes to my
program | read:
l. Tres Jolie, b. m. by Hamilton
dam Alberta.
John Dillon-Lexington, KY.
(Manders-Blue and Gold)
"What sort of a jockey is Man
lers?" asked Blister.
"Good heady boy" was the reply.
"Virginia-oh, Virginia-isn't she
/ lamb ?" gasped Mrs. Dillon.
"She's a stuckup miss" said Miss
ioodloe in an even tone, and almost
lated her.
No. 2 failed to see as they pa
AIDED past. No. 8 was a gorgeous
lack with eyes of fire, powerful in
leck and shoulders and with a lohg !
irving hip. He was handsome as
he devil and awe-inspiring. APP
lause from the stands greeted him,
hough it was feeble to the howl that
ad met the favorite.
There's the one we've got to beat"
Ulster stated.
"Good horse" said Judge Dillon
uietly.
8. Rob Roy, bl. S. by Tempus
Marigold.
Henry L. Whitley, New York City :
(Dawson-Green and Whitley
| read. | followed him with my
yes and wished him somewhere else.
e looked so overpowering-he and
lie millions behind him
At last, quarter of mile away,
ley halted in gorgeous shifting
roup And the taunt elastic web 7
ng of the barrier that was to hold
lem from their fight little longer
as stretched before them.
They surged against it like a parti-
'lored wave, and then receding
Irged again-but always the narrow
ebbing held them back. / found the
ue and Gold 1t was almost with
It motion--it did not shift and whirl
it'll the rest. :, :
"Ain't she the grand actor?" said !,
lister with delight "The best man
red thing at the barrier ever l saw" a
Then for a moment | lost the colors ,,
at had held my gaze They were q
otted out and crowded back by other t,
lors. In that instance the wave h
1t grew larger and lsrg T
. 1t was coming like the wind. a
1t where was the Blue and Gold: e,
| was answered by heaven cleav- 81
z shout that changed in the same st
cath to dispairing groan. 1t was
though giant had been stricken in
ep while roaring forth his battle IA
Y. The thousands had seen what be
d missed-their hopes in an in
mt were gone. In the Stiffness that to