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Foote, John Taintor, 1881-1950

"Blister Jones"

Yes, suh.'
"'Purple 'n' white!' I says. 'Them's the colors of the McVay stable!'
"'Ah was breeding stake hawsses, suh,' says ole man Sanford, 'when his
mothah's milk was not yet dry upon the lips of young McVay.'
"When the silks come, I picks out a real soft spot for Trampfast. It's
a six furlong ramble fur has-beens 'n' there's sure a bunch of kioodles
in it! Most of 'em ought to be on crutches. My hoss has showed me the
distance in fourteen, 'n' that's about where this gang'll stagger home.
With the hop in him the Trampfast hoss'll give me two seconds better.
He ought to be a swell bet. But the hop puts all the heart in him
there is--he ain't got one of his own. If he runs empty he'll lay down
sure. I can't hop him, so I won't bet on him with counterfeit money.
"The mawnin' of the race ole man Sanford's at the stalls bright 'n'
early. He's chipper as a canary. He watches Chick hand-rub the hoss
fur a while 'n' then he pulls out a roll 'n' eases Chick two bucks. I
pipes off the roll. The ole man sees me lookin' at it.
"'Ah intend to wageh moderately today,' he says. 'And Ah have brought
a small sum with me foh the puhpose.'
"'What you goin' to bet on?' I says.
"'Ma own hawss, of co'se, suh,' he says. 'It is ma custom to back only
ma own hawsses or those of ma friends.'
"I don't say nothin'. I'm wise by this time, he plays the game to suit
hisself, but it sure makes me sick. I hate as bad to see the ole man
lose his dough as if it's mine.


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