284 ROAD, TRACK, AND STABLE. 
port to Bangor, which she won. This mare weighed 
about nine hundred pounds; her back was very short; 
her eyes were “large and expressive”; she was low- 
headed, and a hard puller. I ought not, however, to 
speak of her in the past tense, for my informant adds 
“She is now nineteen years old, and hasn’t seen a 
windpuff.” 
An old gentleman who has owned many valuable 
horses told me lately that the best and most intelli- 
gent of them all was a medium-sized gelding, with a 
dash of Arab blood. One very hot day he drove this 
horse sixty miles in a heavy buggy, putting up toward 
night at the house of a friend. After the nag had 
thoroughly cooled off, the negro groom in charge 
mounted and took him out for a bath in a neighboring 
river. The horse enjoyed it so much that he swam 
hither and thither for a considerable distance with 
the darkey on his back, and, finally coming ashore, 
he finished the day’s work by taking the bit in his 
teeth and running away on the high road for three or 
four miles out of pure lightness of heel and heart. 
“Massa,” said the negro, when he led this extraordi- 
nary animal to the door on the following morning, 
not daring to get in the vehicle and drive, “ Massa, 
this hoss am de debil!” 
One experiment now making in this country with 
regard to Arabian horses deserves mention. Mr. 
Randoph Huntington is a veteran horseman, whose 
devotion to the Henry Clay family of trotters (de- 
scended from the Barb, Grand Bashaw) and to the 
Arabian horse may be described without exaggeration 
as heroic. I have quoted in a previous chapter his 
description of old Henry Clay. For many years the 
