Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-01-16
There was an old woman
Who lived near a track,
And who fed all the fledgiinEs
That came to her shack.
She loved them and cuffed them,
And taught them their places.
And they strove to repay her
with tips on the races.

She loved them and cuffed them,
And taught them their places.
And they strove to repay her
with tips on the races.
~ n the famous Five Corners
that marked the heart of the
little village of Latonia ia
~ miliar figures had begun Il
cluster like so many robins,
twittering and chipping with the JOY
of the Homecoming.
Soon the bugle's call TO post would
herald the opening Spring fight 81
the bang-tais. Some the oldtimers
Ike Biscuit Billy" and sunday
School John" would pre-empt the
rreaking rockers on the porch of the
Hotel De Ryle. Soon. at twilight. the
Village streets would be crowded with
the picturesque gypsies of the turf.
conducting post-mortems on the races
lust concluded and solemnly assur-
inc each other: with a good snug
ride and a bust al the barrier. he
couldn't "a missed. Yeh, you said it,
brother. Well. I'm gonna follow him
from now till the snow flies
Nowhere was the hustle of anticipa.
ton more apparent than at the build
ing that marked the establishment of
Mother Slap" whose responsibilities
in life were not unlike those of the
famous old woman who lived in a
shoe.
Blue-eyed and billowy-bosomed,
Mother Slap conducted a boarding
place for Jockeys To her side fiocked
sthe orphaned sons of the saddle and
spurs, the future Tod Sloans of the
snort of kings. The ambition of every
hedging rider and stable boy was TO
lie enrolled among Mother Slap's
uroteges PennilesS patrons of tender
5iCnnvnrnI q MI O
Slap's they could ''eat today and pay
! next year" Her popularity was un-
palalleled.
PLAYED by her small patrons as a
'hot favorite." Mother Slap always
finished out of the money. She was
] opt from the poorhouse by horsemen
Ike Baltimore" Ryan, who guaran-
ted the bills Of likely youngsters that
they picked up and sent on to Mother
Slap for safekeeping. These boarders
helped to maintain those who We're
merely charity satellites. Mother Slap
displayed no favortism; nor did her
charges draw any lines so far as she
was concerned. They all made them
selves thoroughly at home: and they
all teased her and plagued her and
loved her, and tried to give her win
ners in lieu of paying their bills. She
could say with Job: MY days are
Swifter than a weaver's shuttle"
Each Fall, when Getaway day
marked the end of the season, Mother
Slap heaved a sigh of relief, nailed
UP a sign, Closed Forever" and an
nounced that she was going out of
business.
Her resolutions began to melt in
March, and by the middle of April
her establishment was undergoing a
feverish overhauling that climaxed in
the withdrawal of the CLOSED For
ever" notice and the display of a ban
ner reading: Welcome Home" Open
ing day banished the Winter of
Mother Slap's discomfort. Since early
morning her children had been troop
ing into town-the Baxter boys from
Florida. 'Jigger' Donovan from
Havana. Johnny Doyle from New
South, East and West. The first lady
of Latonia stood on the front porch,
bidding welcome to them all.
Is that you, Willie Dolan? And
you, Scotty Mckee? And you, Heinie
Schaefer? Come here, Mickey Hogan,
till / hand you good slap! What
dye mean by not writing me a line
all Winter?'
Laughing and joking, they tumbled
contentedly into the familiar nest. No
matter where they had been, or what
they had seen and done, it was good
to be back again at Mother Slap's.
Most of them were orphans. and they
took secret delight in toying with
the only maternal apron-strings they
had ever known.
Upstairs were seven rooms, each
supplied with two or more cots. BY
the simple expedient Of drawing num-
bers from hat Mother Slap's family
settled the question OF position"
Each boy took the room and cot
whose number he drew, and this set
tied definitely the question of stable
mates.
Mother Slap presided at the home
coming dinner, served at a long table
that ran the length of the dining
room. Here she had an opportunity
t. look over her brood to count noses.
ShI spotted vacant chair and paused
in the midst Of a discourse on table
manners.
Ohio, I thought there was some
body missin'! Where's Darlingtons
boy? Where's Bill Tucker? He
should have come in with you, Heinie
Schaefer. Where's my Billy? Don't
loU2 at me SO dumb-like. Where's
that other lad of mine. Heinie?'
Bat Heinie remained speechless. No
other boy came to Heinie's rescue, and
this was strange, for they were usually
quick to take the pace away. There
was complete silence, the pathetic
nusn of helplessness
Speak up, lads! Did the poor boy
get in trouble? He wasn't-ruled OFF,
Whip" Farrell, money rider for the
Ryan stables, finally broke the sus-
pense. "Billy's dead, Ma. Checked
out in the last race at Jefferson Park.
Got TANNED against the rail, and the
whole field run over him. Aw, listen,
Ma-dOn't take on, now That's part
of the game. We're all sorry, but
what's the use of squawking? The
kids gone"
None, knew better than Mother Slap
that this was, indeed, part of the
game. 1t had happened before. She
knew it would happen again. But
Billy Tucker had been the favorite of
her flock. Tears came, preceding sobs
that shook her generous frame. None
knew how to comfort her.
God rest his souli' she prayed.
And the saints forgive me for the
times l was unkind to him. My own
game boy he was, and now there's a
hole in my heart thatll never be filled
never, never, never! I'll never adopt
another son! The loss is too hard on
me-"
X X *
RUT that was another of Mother
Slap's resolutions destined to be
broken. The very next day she in
herited still another addition to her
family. the youngest and smallest OF
them all, and the heart-mending proc
ess began.
He came at noon, attired in q
frayed sweater, a cap that was many
sizes too large for him and pants from
which the seat was missing. He was
dragging a bull pup.
Heaven help u.s." said Mother Slar
as she read the letter of introduction