252 THE GOLDSMITHS. 



that Ethan could not lose it. In vain I expostulated 

 and told personal friends that the brown horse would 

 trot right over him in the last half-mile. It was of 

 no use. It was an infatuation, a sort of religion with 

 them, that the beautiful little bay, the pride of New 

 England, could not be beaten by the horse that 

 trudged lazily along behind Bill Cunningham as if he 

 was lame all around. 'Oh, what a walk !' was the cry 

 of the strangers, and I dare say they felt somewhat 

 disappointed, for the truth is that George Wilkes only 

 shows his fine points when going fast. You must 

 see him going at a twenty-gait to appreciate the real 

 beauty of that marvelous machinery. But though 

 the strangers held Ethan in high favor, New York 

 made the brown stallion the leader in the betting at 

 ioo to 40. Two to one was laid that Ethan did not 

 win a heat. It so turned out. Wilkes won it in three 

 heats, with uncommon ease. Ethan went ahead 

 each heat to the half-mile, but when they reached the 

 appletree turn, where Wilkes had been taught to pass 

 the running horse, Rube, who was ridden by the side 

 of him at his work, he just went away from the little 

 bay with his ears pricked. The fastest piece of trot- 

 ting I ever saw, I think, was in the second heat. 

 There is a little descent by the apple-trees, and here 

 the brown horse sent out his long thighs, haunches, 

 and stifles to some purpose. It was like the rising of 

 a camel — the straightening out of Doctor Weldon's 

 angles. He passed Ethan Allen just as if he had been 

 hobbled. Time in this race was 2:24^4, 2:25^, 2:31. 

 The winner virtually walked over in the last heat. 

 At that time he was not a quick beginner. For 

 steadiness as a trotter he was the most incomparable 



