. Breeder and sportsman. Horses. Saturday, December 26, 1914.] THE BREEDER AND SPORTSMAN 13 leavin' me t' rigger out why he passes me that hunch. Son, I ain't no seventh son of a seventh son, an' I never sets myself up as possessin' th' rapidest fire set of brains in th' world, but it don't take no hour f'r th' full meanin' of Bill's words t' come t' light. He aims t' see to it personal that Tommy Nolan wins this horse race, an' while I've always known him for a slick ol' codger this here last scheme of his'n hits me so hard that I can merely make motions to th' gentlemanly an' intelligent bar
. Breeder and sportsman. Horses. Saturday, December 26, 1914.] THE BREEDER AND SPORTSMAN 13 leavin' me t' rigger out why he passes me that hunch. Son, I ain't no seventh son of a seventh son, an' I never sets myself up as possessin' th' rapidest fire set of brains in th' world, but it don't take no hour f'r th' full meanin' of Bill's words t' come t' light. He aims t' see to it personal that Tommy Nolan wins this horse race, an' while I've always known him for a slick ol' codger this here last scheme of his'n hits me so hard that I can merely make motions to th' gentlemanly an' intelligent barkeep, who instantly perceives my dire need of a little more of the same. Havin' thus fortified myself against further impendin' cataclysms I weakly toddles off to bed. "To make a long story short, skip all th' minor happenings of the next several hours to th' time when th' free-for-allers scores for th' word. The' bean-eater he draws th' pole, with Bill an' young Nolan scorin' in fourth an' seventh position, respec- tively, an' th' starter gives 'em th' word th' third time down. Bean eater he holds th' pole, an' in jockeyin' th' three-quarter curve Bill an' th' lad slides in alongside f'r a clean shoot into th' stretch. Home they come, neck an' neck to th' gate, an' then Bill an' Tom pulls th' bud an' scoots away in front, head on f'r th' wire, th' old man landin' by a nose in a finish that empties ever' seat in th' stand. A bunch of rah-rah boys couldn't a-made more noise. "Th' second heat shows it a sure thing that field ticket holders an' them with boards on th' bean eater have done kissed their kale goodby, f'r there ain't nothin' to it but Bill an' Tom. Right at th' ol' man's sulky wheel hangs th' lad like th' clean strain Irish terrier that he is, an' as they swings into th' stretch both of 'em goes to th' bat again an' th' stand come up in a flash. Yard f'r yard, foot f'r foot, inch f'r inch them two scraps it out, an' it ain't till th' starter bawls out th' na
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjecthorses, bookyear1882
