MOUNTING FOR THE RACE. 833 



wagons. So with the racers I have named, and so with Lecomte 

 and Lexington. One half of a horse's speed is found in the 

 brain of his rider or driver, and that subtle essence, that know- 

 ledge how to do, and will to command it, blends with the powers 

 of the beast and makes all things done. So with foot racers, 

 when they have known that nine miles within the hour could be 

 increased to ten, and the ten to eleven. Thej were the same men, 

 without anv improvement in their breed ; the same men, who had 

 once been able barely to do nine. Shall we be told that the Bon- 

 ny Black Bess of the bold Turpin did not respond to her master's 

 spirit when she took her wondrous bound over the spiked turn- 

 pike gate ! — or that a portion of the soul of the brave Mame- 

 luke, who alone escaped the massacre of the Beys by leaping 

 his horse over the walls of Cairo, did not enter into that of his 

 matchless Barb ! 



" The bounding steed you pompously bestride, 

 Shares with his lord his pleasure and his pride." 



Assuredly the best portion of a horse's speed lies in the mind 

 of his rider, and it is by no means certain that if Gil. Patrick 

 who rode Lexington into 7.19|, had — with his present know- 

 ledge of what is within horse-hide — grasped the rein and pressed 

 the sides of Echpse, he could not have brought his 7.37 doM'u 

 to 7.26. 



When the blankets were stripped from the horses, and their 

 magnificent combinations of blood, heart, and muscle stood glis- 

 tening and flickering in the sun, the crowd near by could not re- 

 sist an involuntary burst of admiration, at which Lecomte stepped 

 coquettishly about, showing his beautiful chestnut coat and 

 branching muscle, while the darker Lexington, with a sedate 

 and intelligent aspect, looked calmly around, as if he felt that 

 the sensation was quite what he expected and deserved. Both 

 animals were in the finest possible condition, and the weather 

 and the track, had they been manufactured to a sportsman's 

 order, could not have been improved. At last the final signal 

 of " bring up your horses," sounded from the bugle ; and prompt 

 to the call, Gil. Patrick, the well-known rider of Boston, put his 

 foot in Lexington's stirrup, and the negro boy of Gen. Wells 

 sprang into the saddle of Lecomte. They advanced slowly and 



