" CLAYRABIA," AND " CLAYBEALE GRANT." r, 



from twenty-two to twenty-nine were his years of stud service, and in 

 all my experience with old horses I have never known of one to be a 

 very sure foal-getter, except for a very limited number of mares, when 

 past twenty-three years old. Diomed got but few, and of course they 

 were running-bred of different breedings, which meant dilution of his 

 blood influences, except to the one instinct — run, which was the all- 

 absorbing thought in breeding in Virginia, — i.e., to win at the running 

 gait. 



On the dam ' s side of Diomed we find three infusions of Arabian 

 blood close up, from Godolphin Arabian, Darley's Arabian, and Al- 

 cock's Arabian. Please, dear reader, fasten this truth in your mind. 

 Then take the sire of Diomed, and we find in both his sire and dam, 

 Godolphin Arabian close up ; and a little back Leed's Arabian, Darley 

 Arabian, Bethel's Arabian, and Byerly Turk. Now, no great, long- 

 extended pedigree through great mongrelizations is tacked on to 

 Diomed, but every sire and dam was Arabian blood close up ; hence 

 when the plastic Arabian blood of Diomed was bent by man's will to 

 trot, it was able to do so with the true game do or die qualities of the 

 Arabian. 



Had Diomed landed in New York State in place of Virginia, and 

 his get been used to stage-coaches as were Messenger's, it is a question 

 whether it would not have been almost the equal of Messenger. With 

 me, as an individual, it would not, because the special pliability of 

 Messenger blood was greater, being purer Arabian and more of the 

 one family, Godolphin. 



To-day, these blood instincts with influences, are gone. It is folly 

 to talk of Messenger blood, or of Diomed blood influences in our 

 trotting-horses of the present time. They are uncertainties from a 

 multitude of mongrelizations, which no amount of printers' ink in pedi- 

 grees can purify or make more positive. Uncertainty induced our 

 "time standard," which is like the chip on the boy's shoulder, with his 

 bravado, " Knock it off if you dare !" 



Let us simile the printed horse pedigrees of to-day by naming dogs. 

 Horses are horses, dogs are dogs, and game-cocks are game-cocks. 

 I have bred them all to blood, and know practically what I am writing 

 about. 



We will say that I have a remarkable pointer bitch. (I have owned 

 and bred many.) I will take one sent to me as a little puppy many years 

 ago by Commodore Foxhall A. Parker, of the United States Navy 

 (deceased). His word was sufficient as to her breeding. I grew her, 



