A GREAT HORSE 



whom had never seen a trotting race, but who had read 

 of the prowess of the two horses and wanted to find out 

 for themselves what a test of speed of this kind was 

 really like. 



It was not the kind of crowd one generally sees at 

 the race track on Suburban, Brooklyn or Futurity day. 

 It was not a boisterous, wildly excited, betting mob, 

 but a gathering of cool, calculating students of the 

 trotters, who were there to see and not to gamble. 

 True there was plenty of betting in the ring, but it 

 was not the absorbing topic. The respective merits of 

 Cresceus and The A.bbot were discussed, not so much 

 from a speculative standpoint as upon a basis of which 

 was the more wonderful animal and how fast the race 

 would be trotted. Thirty thousand men and women 

 filled the big grand stand, crowded the lawn until it 

 was impossible to move one way or the other, flowed 

 across the track into the infield along the rail, covered 

 many teams and coaches lined there, jammed the bet- 

 ting sheds, and the stands outside the fence along the 

 back-stretch. 



Millionaires were there, and so were farmers, who 

 came down to the city with their best clothes on, anx- 

 ious to see the great horses. Farmers who had money 

 to burn, and who had learned the trotting game at 

 county fairs, were for once in their lives in a crowd 

 that fairly dazed them and took their breath away. 

 They had never seen such an outpouring before. Yet 



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