THE SADDLE AND SIRLOIN CLUB 



that which means so much to a rapidly-passing gen- 

 eration. 



You who have heard day after day and night after 

 night the applause of splendid audiences as the final 

 proofs cf man's mastery of the mysteries of animal 

 procreation and development have been presented in 

 the great amphitheatre; you who have adjourned 

 from the ringside to the taproom of the Inn, or 

 sought the cozy corners of the Club to discuss the 

 wonders of the shows; you who toil daily within the 

 Yards may appreciate fully the privileges you enjoy, 

 and again you may not. 



I stood one day before the pictures of TOM BOOTH 

 and ROBERT ALEXANDER recalling visions bright and 

 vistas fair of Warlaby and Woodburn. Some strangers 

 passed that way, apparently pleased and interested. 

 Obviously, however, they could not see the pictures 

 I was contemplating. In another room I stopped. 

 Linwood and Oaklawn were pulling at my heart- 

 strings. Triumphs and tragedies unforgettable were 

 passing in review on every hand, all unseen by those 

 who were wandering aimlessly through the galleries. 

 That night an impulse seized me. Was it possible 

 to communicate to others even a faint reflection of 

 the treasures of this place of dreams? Was it within 

 the power of anyone to convey to the members of 



