The commonwealth. (Scotland Neck, N.C.) 1896-1929, 1913-06-05
THE RACING
PARSON
By M. QUAD
Copyright, 1913, by Associated Lit
erary Press.
By M. QUAD

Hartsviile.
One day as Farmer Barrows sat on
his veranda smoking his pipe a stranger
| driving horse and buggy came along
Just opposite the house the horse sud.
denly halted and refused to go on.
Seems to be trouble here" said
| Moses as he walked down to the gate.
II should say there was!" exclaimed
the stranger. "Consarn his pesky hide,
but if you'll lend me an ak I'll cave
his head in
| Had him long, stranger?" was asked,
| 'About three weeks, and this Is the
third time he has baked on me. Say,
| now
''Purty coed loolzin' hoss," said Farm
| er Barrows after he had looked him
over. 'Where'd you get him?''
'"Traded with a feller."
| 'NIebbe we can swop I've got a
hess that
'"Then trot him out. I'll trade you
even up for anything with hide and
hoofs."
The exchange was made without
further words, and tho stranger drove
off. Farmer Barrows had said that
there was Il cause for horse baking.
1t is generally understood that it Is in
his training.
The new owner began to practice q
system of kindness. The horse did not
get harsh word and was asked to do
only light work. Ia the course of a
couple of weeks his sullenness had
quite vanished, and he was hitched to
a buggy to be driven to town. He
took about twenty-eight steps and then
stopped. He expected to hear swear
ing and to feel the whip, but nothing
Of the sort followed. He was given
lump Of sugar and patted on the back
as q reward of merit.
The next day he was hitched up
again. This time he took a hundred
steps before baking. No swearing nor
whipping. More sugar and more pct
ting Farmer Barrows even sung the
first verse Of the ''Sweet By and By
into his left ear. So it went every day
for a week, and the farmer then said
to his wife:
''That hoss is all right now and will
give 10 more trouble"
~ hope net"
81 have always contended that kind
ness would do it, and here's a plain
case of it. 1 shan't have a mite of trou-
bic driving to town and back"
On the road to the village and half
mile from Farmer BarrOWs' house the
highway crossed a swamp by narrow
corduroy road. Only one vehicle could
pass at a time for a distance of forty
rods. The new horse ambled along
reached the middle of the causeway,
and then he stopped as suddenly as If
hit by a bullet.
"By thunder.'' exclaimed Farmer
Barrows.
He gave the horse five minutes and
then asked him to please go on.
No use.
Then he descended and gave the ami
nal a lump of sugar and tOyed with
his ear and asked him as a personal
favor to resume his amble. Not a
resume; not an amble.
Travellers came up and stopped at
either end of the blocked highway and
called out:
''Say, you. what in thunder is the
matter?'
Horse has baked on me-"
Farmer Barrows used the whip light
Iy, apologizing to the horse at the same
time. No good. He moved his coat
and vest, spat on his hands and was
preparing to give that horse the lick
ing Of his life when the parson of his
church drove up with:
"Hello, Brother Barrows. What's
the matter?"
"It's this Internal horse! He baked
with mel"
The parson got down and gave the
new horse looking over and said:
Brother Barrows, you've got sulky
at home, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Come on back and hitch that horse
to the sulky. think know what ails
him.
Cant kill him first?"
"No-come right along"
you'll never get him ten feet
The parson mounted the sulky as if
he had been there before, and the
horse cheerfully started off at a good
trot.
A traveller came along with a good
trotter and attempted to pass, but was
left in the dust in great shape. The
parson overlook two or three Weii
known steppers and beat them to it |
SWell. how many times did he balk |
on you?'' the farmer asked as the rig |
came back.
Brother BarrOws, you are good I
man, but you have no eye for horses,
smiled the parson.
"How do you meanT
you've been treating this animal as
if he were plug Of horse and there
oy humiliating him."
"But amt he a plug|'
"Mv dear brother, he can so mile
in 80 this very day"
"YOu-yOu mean
The parson nodded his head.
s'But I'm church member and can't
even go to races"
The parson advanced and laid hand
IN his shoulder and whispered in his
ear:
"HOrse racing is very, very wicked,
Brother Barrows. unless-your nag
comes in ahead"'
~