The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1921-12-15

pletely muf1ed In lavish furs of gray-brown rae
COON His cutter shone in the sunlight and his
Big black horse was curried until he cleaned as
If he were oiled.
But why were they waitinep whv was Iadv
Cla1re's face like stricken flower pale cheeks
despa1ring eyes that seemed to be seeking some
thlng beyond the excited crowd, down the long
frosty road? 1nstinctively the hushed crowd fol-
lowed C1a1res glance. Instinctively they, too,
looked and wished for the absent Philippe Beau
clerc.
Then there swept around the corner and up to
the aston1shed crowd, the most curious equipage
tnat their eyes had ever beheld. Philippe Beau
clerc' looking like some glorious savage clad In
shaggy black buffalo robes, held taut the home
made reins of bison hide that guided a curious
pony. He small and shaggy and spotted like
quail. His neck was long and his head was lean.
Ills hind legs seemed shorter than his fore legs.
Beside the well-groomed horses of the other con-
testants he was grOtesque parody. The cutter
was rudely wrought of ironwoOd. But the drivers
face was serene and eager. He glanced toward
Claire. Their look held. Claire smiled. Then
they off the signal Of the Seigneur.
The crowd Ioosed it's pent-up laughter as they
Beauclerc's lean, dappled beast fall behind
pace by pace. The other ponies were skimming
like swallows in the wind. But leading them
all was old Va-debOn-Coeurs black stallion. There
was sympathetic shudder for Claire. But she.
seeming not to mind smiling like dainty
witch.
Va-de-bon-Coeur's black stallion was the first to
dash up to the blasted oak. He was fecked with
foam. His quivering TANKS streaked with
the lashes Of the old mans whip 1t plain
he well spent but his driver allowed him not
a moments respite. Off they sped again. Then
two soldiers came galloping in neck to neck. The
others followed in quick succession.
Close the heels of the last sleigh Beau
clerc his sinewy little pony stout and fresh
when he first set out, his retns still drawn taut
He wheeled about deity, then loosened the leather
ribbons. The ugly pony stretched out his long,
thin neck and leaped forward.
He gained on the last horse, passed him. Sailed
by the second the third, passed the rest of them,
Occurs painting black stallion. Farther and far
Their he stretched out his hoofs till he dashed by
the leader
On the bank the eager crowd craned their necks.
Their eyes opened with ncreduIity when in the
flying shape that was dashing toward them they
recognized Beaucerc and his uncouth speckled
nag Off in the distance far behind him, struggled
his vanquished rivals Instinctively the OnlOOkers
glanced toward Claire and, though she was hiding
her rosy cheeks behind great muff, they could
see that her eyes glOwed with the light that
never on land or sea.
The spectators surged up about the victOrs
Sleigh There torrent Of welcoming cheers
for the tall dark hero But he had for their
acclamations. He running to the little knoll
where Claire stood beside her father, who In spite
of himself was looking rather relieved and joyous.
They watched Claire as she put out her hands to
the good looking but breathless youth who in
closed them In his own eagerly. They watched
him bend above them with grace Of a cavalier. And
as he did so they heard the old Segneur exclaim.
"Sacre! where did you get that wind-shod demonf"
Philippe Beauclerc's answer came back, laugh
ing, "Oh that's old Menetepahs Indian pony. I've
been training him for weeks in the forest"