MUSKET. 



A horse holding the distinction of being the "unluck- 

 iest horse on earth" is entitled to a place in history. 

 Musket came from Iowa to the 1895 Cleveland sale, to be 

 sold for the benefit of his owner — and the country at 

 large, barring the purchaser. Soon after his arrival he 

 showed more speed than any horse on the track had done 

 that year up to that date, and everybody predicted great 

 things for the blaze-faced son of Red Baron. His owner 

 was so infatuated that he paid the catalogue fee — and 

 that's the only income I've ever received from the horse, 

 but there's been a lot of outgoes — and withdrew him from 

 the sale. The horse immediately took sick, I suppose from 

 chagrin that he had ever made a cent for anyone, came 

 near dying, but unfortunately for me recovered sufficiently 

 to be shipped back to the prairies of his native state. 

 Somehow he kept haunting me, that blaze face and beau- 

 tiful gait, and I bought him for $600 on the assurance that 

 he had recovered from his sickness. He was sick when 

 he was returned to Cleveland, and continued that way. 

 When he began getting better he was kicked on the arm 

 of his left front leg by Sunland Clay. His hind legs re- 

 mained very slightly "stocked" from the effects of the 

 distemper. In my absence a stable boy blistered them 

 with caustic balsam with the intent of reducing them, but 

 the effect was inverse ratio, and the legs swelled clear to 

 his body as big as a beer keg. He's too unlucky for me. 

 There may be horse diseases he has not had, but I don't 

 know their names. He's had a touch of everything I can 



