 | LONGFELLOW AND UNCLE JOHN HARPER. Saratoga in 1901 |  |
LONGFELLOW AND UNCLE JOHN HARPER.
“Do you remember the great Longfellow race in 1871?” I
asked of my silver-haired statician.
“Perfectly,” he replied. “You know it came near breaking
Uncle John's heart! Well, he went back to Kentucky with his
three-year-old pet—took good care of him, worked him every
day, and in 1872 the old man brought him up to the Branch.
Old General Buford brought up Enquirer; Babcock entered
Helmbold; and Belmont entered Kingfisher. The race was four
miles—and such a race! Old John had not smiled for twelve
months—ever since Longfellow was beaten. He had not cut
his hair or shaved. The burden of his mind and soul was to
win the race.
“The race came. Millions of people gathered to see it. I got
close to old John. They started—the horses. Jupiter Tonans!
what a race!”
“Who beat?” I asked, unable to conceal my excitement.
“Well, old John had it this time. A year had put bottom
into `Old Long,' and he came out just three lengths ahead of
Kingfisher, Enquirer, and Helmbold, who were almost neck and
neck.”
“And old John?”
“Lord, the old man threw up his cane and broke into a laugh
—his hoarse voice sounded all over the track. He embraced his
horse and laughed again. He laughed all day—the next day—
for a week. Nobody could stop him. It was a horse laugh. It
gave everybody the nightmare to be with him. Finally, after
the physicians gave him up, old John died—died laughing.”
| LONGFELLOW AND UNCLE JOHN HARPER. Saratoga in 1901 | |