The Washington herald., 1919-03-03
By w. c. yREELAND.

Il Within the shcltering gates OF the
old Grayesend track, In No. stable.
stands the finest little piece OF
feminine horsefiesh in America-Pen
II Rose, Lilliputian queen of the turf.
In the polo pony class, and not big
enough to classify as galloway, this
little daughter of Sweep-Hanrose
4 was the racing sensation of the 1918
! season. In spite of her small size, a
1 serious handicap to a thoroughbred,
Pen Rose topped the list of two-year-
old winners with thirteen victories,
three seconds and one third place to
| her credit She started seventeen
times and never was unplaced--the
best record made by any horse, filly
or colt last year.
To know Pen Rose thoroughly you
| must meet her in her stall 1t is
there her fine points stand forth and
shine like diamond over paste. Only
filly, you say. All. but such a filly!
II filly can be classified as a flirt,
or coquette. then Pen Rose is that
| and more. She has so many little
\ tricks of manner, so many playful
ways that she completely wins your
affection-and affection that is deep
and lasting. For once seen, Pen Rose
/ is not soon forgotten.
| 1t was a dreary day for visit to
| a queen. AS II in sympathy for the
person who paid a visit to Gravesendl
the heavens. wept Gravesendl What
name! B-u-r-r.- 1t gave one the
| creeps to think of II. Drip, drip.
drip. The raindrops fell with the
rhythm of the Dead March from
/ Saul" Ia Miserere" was in the
Y atmosphere. Even the stable looked
woebegone and out OF sorts. Each
| board leaned upon the other as IL
seeking comfort and support. Drip,
drip. drip. The weather was blue and
the visitors feelings were in close
| touch with the indigo hue when
Clear and sweet a voice was heard
singing Where the River Shannon
| Flows! 1t was an Irish voice. the
| Kind that gives tongue to the bub-
| o1ng springs in a heart of sunshine.
AS though by magic, all that was
drab and dull and gray seemed to
| take wings. The rain and the mud
| were forgotten. The song waited
through the open spaces between the
boards that act as a wind shield to
\ the straw ride and stalls OF No. 3
stable-the home OF Pen Rose. II
| you were to inquire for No 3 stable,
IKE as not the man you asked. would
|
Irish Row" And then he would tell
you it was located Just inside the gate
that opens on Avenue L.
Irish Row. James Boden. who
trains the seventeen thoroughbreds in
that stable. is proud of the Irish blood
that runs through his veins. He is Of
Irish descent, a Canadian by birth and
an American by choice and selection.
/ That is triangle of quality that no
| man can beat. But Boden has an
| lrishman's love for those that come
from Emerald Isle and the men he
hires for stable lords must sing "The
| Wearing of the Green" with the right
! twist to the "chune." or diviI-a-bit
can they work in Irish Row.
II know you have several fine
horses. Jim" said the writer, but
Pen Rose is nearest me heart (falI-
ing easily into the Irish vernacuIar),
and I'd like to give her the once
over. while me thoughts are tender
with the memory of the song"
As in reply to the request, a
little brown head. with twinkling
eyes full of mischief, poked its way
| through the space formed by the
upper half of the stall door and
big staple that kept the door ajar
|
for the big box room. Before you
could say, 'Heigh-ho, my lady"
/ the head was jerked back again.
| This trick was repeated thrice be-
| fore the door was opened. 1t was
Miss Pen Roses greeting.
There she stood. Queen of the
Midgets," the Delilah that cut away
the strength and speed from many
an equine Samson last year. She
poked her nose into the visitors
hand and rubbed his coat, hunting
| for Jumps of sugar in the pock-
cts. Then she backed to the far end
| of the stall like a spoiled child
who had a spell of the sulks be-
| cause she had not received a tidbit
of her fancy. But her sulky mood
was but a pretense for she came
| back to the door again anxious to
have her head stroked.
A coquette? A fiirt? Who shall say?
But one thing is certain. she prefers
the company of men to that Of women.
She has a decided antpathy to the
gentle sex. When women pay her a
visit she fairly snubs them. She never
rubs her head against them or hunts
for sugar. Frequently she turns her
back on them, pokes her head in a
far corner of her stall and sulks.
Very often she curls up in the straw
and lies down. But with the men?|
Oh. boysI She is the sugar kid With
every little playful trick she shows
that she likes their company.
"She can do everything except talk"
said Boden. as she was led out to the
straw ride for a "close up inspection
| As race horses 20. Pen Rose. in size.
| is about knee high to a grasshopper
when compared with other thorough
breds. But when looked at head on
she spelled perfection OF equine out
line. Every part of her was balanced
to an ounce. In that inspection she
personified might in miniature.
In looking back on the record of
Pen Rose last year the bald fact that
she won thirteen races-a record for