 | LONGFELLOW, Saratoga in 1901 |  |
LONGFELLOW,
accompanied by his stud (Littleton, Express, and Exchange), now
came out. He looks like an elongated Chatham square hackhorse.
His head is homely and clumsily put on. He starts off
like a camel charged with electricity, but, by-and-bye, when the
his strides become monstrous, and without apparent effort he
shoots by everything on the track. Longfellow has run six
races, all of which he has won, though, when he was a three
year old, he was beaten, when sick, by Enquirer. He ran in
Lexington, beating Pilgrim—time, 1:37. From there he went to
Nashville, beating Morgan Scout without effort, and ran in Memphis,
beating Morgan Scout and John Morrissey's Defender. He
also ran in Cincinnati. At the Branch he has just easily beaten
Helmboldt, Regards, and Breakneck. Longfellow did 1:44 by
Harper's old silver watch this morning.
“You will see a terrible race for that Saratoga cup on Friday
afternoon,” said Harper, as he went back to the stable.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because Longfellow has never had a horse to run with him
before. He always comes in on a galop. But if `the Fisher'
beats him this time, he will beat the best horse I ever saw.”
“Will the Fisher beat?”
Old John shook his head ominously—then he said, half regretfully,
“I was offered $60,000 for old Long at the Branch, and if
he wins I can take $100,000 for him; but if he loses I will sell
him for $25,000. So you see I have $75,000 at stake on the
race.”
“And Belmont is betting even?”
“Yes—he offered to take any number of bets, $500 to $500,
or $5,000 to $5,000, coming up on the cars yesterday.”
“Who have you got training this $60,000 worth of horse?”
“Oh, my darkey boys take care of him—they're good boys, I
raised 'em, too—on the farm with the hosses. The boys like the
hosses, and they get on well together. I bought old Jake there
for $1,500 from Dr. Shelby, in Kentucky, but I think as much of
him as I do of Longfellow.”
“Will you sell Longfellow if he wins?”
“No, I shall take him back to Kentuck, put him up, and breed
from him. A mar with a colt from him would sell for $5,000,
and I'd soon get my $100,000 back.”
“Would you like a cool day for the race?”
“No, the hotter the better. Hosses run better hot days than
cool days.”
And so the old octogenarian horse-racer went on—full of wisdom,
philosophy, and sometimes fun.
| LONGFELLOW, Saratoga in 1901 | |