Dillon.
"As a _thou_--I always strive to please," drawled that blue-eyed young
person. Oh, that I had been warned by her words!
Our purring flight to Louisville, when the day was done, became a
triumph that mocked the dead Caesars. Of this the old negro on the
front seat missed little. He was singing, softly singing. And leaning
forward I listened.
"Curry a mule an' curry a hoss,
Keep down trubbul wid de stable boss!"
sang Uncle Jake.
OLE MAN SANFORD
"Do you happen to notice a old duck that comes to the stalls at
Loueyville just after the derby?" asked Blister.
"Was his name Sanford, and did he wish to pat the mare?" I asked in
turn.
"That's him," said Blister. "Ole man Sanford. It ain't likely you
ever heard of him, but everybody on the track knows him, if they ever
hit the Loueyville meetin'. They never charge him nothin' to get into
the gates. He ain't a owner no more, but way back there before I'm
alive he wins the Kentucky Derby with Sweet Alice, 'n' from what I
hears she was a grand mare. Ole man Sanford breeds Sweet Alice
hisself. In them days he's got a big place not far from Loueyville.
They tell me his folks get the land original from the govament, when
it's nothin' but timber. I hears once, but it don't hardly sound
reasonable, that they hands over a half a million acres to the first
ole man Sanford, who was a grandaddy of this ole man Sanford. If
that's so, Uncle Sam was more of a sport in them days than since.
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