CHAPTER II 



MAKING BAD AS A JOCKEY 



Start as an Aeronaut — Peddling Balloons — " \Vlio's the Boy for the 

 Parachute ? '' — Joining a Stable — Worse and Worse — More Runa- 

 way Rides — Become a Cook 



My father, who had been an officer in the United 

 States Army, first had a look at his latest kid on 10th 

 August 1874. I had two brothers and one sister, and 

 my first appearance on any track was on the date just 

 mentioned at Bunker Hill, twelve miles from Kokomo, 

 Indiana. Father, who had fought in the Civil War 

 and was made prisoner at Gettysburg, never drank, 

 and didn't feel called upon to buy drinks for the boys 

 who came to congratulate him. Some time after 

 I was born he started in business at Kokomo. The 

 combination of the two shows he ran seems fanny to 

 us now, although it was quite serious at the time. 

 At one entrance to the building he occupied was a 

 swell barber's shop, and at the other door, to the left, 

 was his real estate office. He made a good living 

 out of both. He used to play the violin very well, 

 and I suppose we got the habit of whistling from 

 following the tunes, both my brother " Cash " and I 

 have often been cuffed for the habit. I have men- 

 tioned that I was a champion chequers player ; they 

 said that I used to whistle my opponents off their 

 game : I'd never stop. After my mother died my 

 father was a bit too easy with me ; in fact, he was too 

 lenient altogether. I would go out in the fields with 

 Tony and fish, fish, all day long, instead of going to 



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