252 LIFE WITH THE TROTTERS. 



fill business man, an excellent judge of Iniman nature, a 

 lover of a good horse, and a true friend. I can not now recall 

 any man who hns been more successful on the trotting turf 

 for the time he has been connected with it than Mr. Gordon. 

 One of the first horses he bought for the turf was Clingstone, 

 who has always been a star jperformer and one that Mr. 

 Gordon has hadagreatdealof enjoyment and comfort with. 

 Not only has he had the i^leasure of seeing him win some 

 grand battles on the turf, but has also enjoyed many a ride 

 behind him. Clemmie G., another one of his early pur- 

 chases, acquired a record of 2:1 5|, and proved herself a cam- 

 paigner of the first w^ater. In her loss by death, not only 

 Mr. Gordon but the breeding x^ublic, I think, met with a 

 serious loss. Clemmie G., being out of a mare that had 

 p)roduced six with records better than 2:30, and noted for 

 her good disposition and constitutional soundness, must 

 have, if mated with some first-class stallion, produced results 

 that the world would have been proud of. Guy, the star jDer- 

 formerof this year, and for whom Mr. Gordon paid $10,000 

 as a colt, not only proved his good judgment but also his 

 willingness to pay for horses. Guy is the only horse that ever 

 I saw that could trot a mile better than 2:20 driven with- 

 out boots or shoes of any kind. He also has the distinction 

 which no other horse occupies of having made a record of 

 2:12 in one season, having started ineligible for the three- 

 minute class. In Mambrino Sparkle Mr. Gordon has a mare 

 that has proven her right to be called a race-horse in every 

 particular, and I am anxious to see what the result will be 

 if she is used for breeding i^urposes. 



Mr. Gordon has also taken more than a passing interest in 

 the interesting subject of breeding horses. He has invested 

 in this enterprise, animals and other property that, I should 

 think, valued at low estimate, would be worth $200,000. His 

 farm, called Gordon Glen, is a picturesqufe spot just outside 

 of the city limits of Cleveland on St. Clair street, and runs 

 back to the Lake Shore Railroad. As a gentleman's estab- 

 lishment it is the most complete I have ever seen, having 



