I ain't knockin' that hunter--there was no canary in him, but I
think a game thoroughbred's the gamest hoss that lives!
"Ole Rainbow is a straight line from his nose to his tail. His ears is
flat 'n' his mouth's half open fur air. Every jump he takes looks thirty
feet long 'n' he's gettin' to the black hoss fast. I'm watchin' the
distance to go 'n' all of a sudden I furgets where I am--.
"'He wins sure as hell!' I hollers.
"'Oh, will he?' says a voice. I looks up 'n' there's Miss Livingston
sittin' on her hoss, her fists doubled up 'n' her face whiter'n chalk.
"About ten len'ths from the finish Rainbow gets to the black 'n' they
look each other in the eye. But them long jumps of the thoroughbred
breaks the hunter's heart, 'n' Rainbow comes away, 'n' wins by a
len'th. . . .
"After I've cooled Rainbow out, 'n' bandaged his knees at the club
stables, I starts fur home with him.
"I'm just leavin' the main road, to take the short cut, when Miss
Livingston gallops by, with a groom trailin'. She looks up the
cross-road, sees me 'n' the hoss, 'n' reins in. She says somethin' to
the groom 'n' he goes on.
"Miss Livingston comes up the crossroad alone, 'n' stops when she gets to
us.
"'Is that Rainbow?' she says.
"'Yes'm,' I says.
"'Help me down, please,' she says. I tries to do it, but I don't make a
good job of it.
"'You're not a lady's groom?' she says, smilin'.
"'No'm,' I says.
"'I should like to pat the winner;' she says.
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