THE GREAT FOUR-MILE DAY. 301 
“‘ Boots” but the sun. Jesse made it his ambition to 
finish the race by the light of his rays, and he was as 
proud as a sceptred monarch, when looking over the 
heads of the throng that gathered around the victorious 
‘‘ Boots”? upon the conclusion of the heat, he saw the 
glorious orb yet above the horizon, and looking gladly 
upon him as though he would bless him before he went 
to bed. 
“ Boots” was near sharing the fate of the Grecian, 
who was smothered to death in the theatre, by wreaths 
and shawls showered down upon him in glorification. He 
could scarcely breathe, for the multitudes that pressed 
upon him in one way or another, to do him honor. And 
Jesse, too, got a large share of plaudits and dimes con- 
formably ; and even I came in for gleanings of regard, 
as I rode home upon the pony after the jubilation. 
There were no cattle-painters there, nor lithograph- 
ers, nor daguerreotypists; else ‘‘ Boots” and his rider 
would have been transmitted to posterity in their linea- 
ments of that day. It has fallen upon feeble hands to 
preserve some faint remembrance of them in this ac- 
count, which is as inferior to the merits of the theme, as 
the snuffed candle is to the brilliant orb of day. 
