The globe-independent. (Hagerstown, Md.) 1943-19??, 1947-07-17
Horse And Buggy Days
BY IDA 30 MARTIN

Every time l go out on the high
ways and see a pair of 'Super-Model
Speeders' burning up the macadam
side by side at speeds anywhere
between sixty and ninety, think of
the old days when racing was a real
sport. The outcome of a typical
race today is largely due, not so
much to what the driver does, but
to what the manufacturers did to
the cars before they latched the
hood for the last time.
Don't for one moment think that
racing in a buggy behind old Dob
bin was tame. True, the speed was
not SO high in miles, but most of our
younger generation who are so UNI
fortunate as to not have ridden in
buggies would doubtless have been
Scared Stiff" You see the buggy
ran on wheels much harder than a
6OO-16; there were no shock-absor-
bers, but plenty of shocks. Moreover,
if you have never seen a good horse
run, don't make light of its speed.
In those days young men, and
young ladies as well, took great
pride in their horses; and when one
had horse that was outstanding
in speed and appearance, he had a
priced possession. l can remember
seeing tears over the sale of "Dan,"
our last driving horse, small light
tan, spirited and swift. Somehow,
there was never quite the same
sentiment about the Model ''T'' that
took his place.
Many of our older folk tell us
that they almost never went on the
road without getting into race.
We must realize that the horse and
buggy, of one form or another, ruled
the roads of our country for almost
three centuries, while the automo-
bile has ragged" a mere forty years
A well kept team in those days was
mark of an up-and-coming own
err, and folks took pride in beauti-
full horses blowing the field as well
as their drivers on the road.
Some sects have always been
known to be especially active along
these lines. On one occasion a man
of the Dunkard faith who did quite
lot of travelling, was in Hagers-
town. In his travels he constantly
met Amish folks, who spoke a quiet
word to their horses and straight
way left him in their dust This
grew to be harder and harder to
take, and so our friend was looking
everywhere for good" horse.
In Hagerstown, someone told him
of a sorrel often seen on the streets,
pulling milk wagon. He was dir
ected to Maugansville, and was soon
talking with the owner, P. B. Wit
mer, long a horse-man always a
a good judge of horses, and always
ready to buy or sell. The visitor
was shown, the first of three horses,
a fine bay; then the third, a splend-
ed black. "But how about this
one?" he asked looking at the 1900
pound sorrel in the middle. ooh
you don't want that horse" an
swered Wilmer. (Some of these old
timers never heard of Psychology"
but they sure had IT'D So they hit
ched him up and went for ride.
At Cearfoss they turned around,
and then Mr.. Wilmer said: "Now
you drive him home" The traveller
eagerly grasped the lines, drew
them taut and received a real sur
prize. The instant the lines tighten
ed on the horse, he took OUT for
Maugansville at such pace that he
almost left the visitor sitting in Gear
foss. The harder the startled driver
pulled, the faster went the sorrel
He was a PAGER, and one of the fast
est ever seen, according to Charly
McHenry, who had many horses ir
the races at the Hagerstown. track
Our Dunkard friend was very excit-
ed as he threw all his strength onto
the lines, but could make no effecf
on the racing steed; while the wine
had combed a perfect part in hi!
long beard and swept it back tightly
on either side of his face. All Thu