Wi’ tu’penny we fear nae evil;
“Look here. You’re a good friend of ours. Will you help me to think out a rather bothersome question?”
He raised many celebrated racers for himself and others, and so judicious was his system that, at the age of two, they had almost the maturity of three-year-olds. His last thoroughbred was a chestnut filly, foaled in 1859, by Lexington, dam Sally Roper (the dam of Berry), which was entered in a stake for three-year-olds, 0 entrance, two mile heats, to come off over the Albion course, near Gallatin, in the fall of 1862. This filly was, of course, a great favorite with Uncle Berry. She never associated with any quadruped after she was weaned, her master being her only companion. At two years old she was large and muscular and very promising, and in the summer of 1861 I urged Uncle Berry to send her to the race course (where I had Fannie McAlister, dam of Muggins, and several other animals in training), that she might be gentled and broken to ride. His reply was: “I have been thinking of your kind offer—I know she ought to be broke, but, poor thing! she don’t know anything; she has never been anywhere, and has never even been mounted. I am afraid she will tear herself all to pieces.” But he finally consented for my colored trainer, Jack Richlieu, to take her to the track. On meeting Mrs. Williams a few days afterwards, I inquired for Uncle Berry. Her reply was: “He is well enough as to health, but he is mighty lonesome since the filly went away.”
The elevator stopped at the door of the dining-room. This opened on a broad, square corridor, red-carpeted, the lofty ceiling and walls elaborately frescoed. The dining-room itself was a noble apartment, seating five hundred persons, blazing from end to end with crystal chandeliers which were reflected in great mirrors placed at intervals. It was full of that subtile flavor of luxury peculiar to the best American hotels. The broad doorway, with its folding leaves wide open, was guarded by a mag
“‘I was up in the country the other day, an’ do you kno’ I saw a dead match for yo’ black? Only a little slicker an’ better lookin’—same star an’ white hind foot. As nigh like him as one black-eyed pea looks like another.’
“And be they rogues?” asks I innercently.
"Such shocking style!" she commented inwardly. Then she looked beyond Trixie to the man who was to be the girl's husband, and found herself forced to admit that, despite the difference in their ages, they made a handsome and unusual pair. Colonel Coventry was obviously devoted,
A second pistol-shot flew wide. A third grazed the dog’s hip. From all directions people were running towards the station. A man darted into a house next door, and emerged carrying a shot-gun. This he steadied on the veranda-rail not forty feet away from the leaping dog, and made ready to fire.
I wint outside to the bastemint dure, and wated in person for Mr. Harry. When he arrived, I tauld him the state of things, and he slipped into me kitchen. Miss Claire were sitting on me table, her little feet swinging in the air.
Hartford stepped back, ran and leaped. He succeeded only in banging his shoes into the right sifle-joint of his mount and in flipping himself to the ground. In the interest of haste, grace was abandoned. Hartford monkey-crawled up a sturdy cane of bamboo growing nearby and, as Kiwa-san maneuvered his beast, stepped over into the saddle.详情 ➢
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