THE TROTTING-IIORSE OF AMERICA. 253 



tunity to double his money, lie sold the rough-coated, un- 

 known little bay mare to Mr. George E. Perrin of this me- 

 tropolis, for the sum of $350. 



In the hands of Mr. Perrin, the little bay mare; who had 

 proved so intractable, so flighty, so harem-scarem, and, to 

 come down to the true term, so worthless, to her original 

 owners, was favored with more advantages than ever she 

 had enjoyed before. She was not only introduced to the 

 very best society of fast-goers on the Bloomingdale and 

 Long-Island Roads, but she was taught, when "flinging 

 herself out" with exuberant and superabundant spirit all 

 over the road, as it were, to play her limbs in a true line, 

 and give her extraordinary qualities a chance to show their 

 actual worth. If ever she made a skip, a quick admonition 

 and a steady check brought her to her senses ; and when, in 

 her frenzy of excitement at being challenged by some 

 tip-top goer, she would, to use a sportsman's phrase, " travel 

 over herself," and go " up " into the air, she was steadied and 

 settled down by a firm rein into solid trotting and good 

 behavior in an instant. The crazy, flighty, half-racking 

 and half-trotting little bay mare became a true stepper, and 

 very luckily passed out of her confused "rip-i-ty clip-i-ty" sort 

 of going, into a clean, even, long, low, locomotive-trotting 

 stroke. Many a man who came up to a road-tavern, after 

 having been unexpectedly beaten by her, would say to her 

 owner, as they took a drink at the bar, " That's a mighty 

 nice little mare of yours ; and, if she was only big enough to 

 stand hard work, you might expect a good deal from her." 



There was at that time, as there has been for the last 

 twenty years, many horses of great repute upon the roads 

 in the vicinity of New York ; and, among the horses which 

 now and then came in disdainful contact with the little bay 

 mare, was one of considerable speed and fame, called " The 

 Waite Pony." 



If his oats had sprouted into salt hay under his touch, the 

 proud and supercilious Waite Pony could not have been 



