“Exactly,” I said hastily, and put the offending volume in its proper place.
“Perhaps it would be painful, mamma. But how am I to understand unless I am told?”
At the time of which I speak, there were a number of famous horses on the turf, necessarily producing much rivalry between their various owners and friends. The most prominent that I can call to memory now were Boston, Duane, Decatur, Vashti, Balie Peyton, Fannie Wyatt, Charles Carter, Lady Clifton, Clarion, etc. Boston was just beginning to win the fame that afterward made his name a household word throughout the racing world, and nearly all of the best horses of the day sought to measure strides with this distinguished son of Timoleon. In the language of an old turfman, they were laying for him. At this time Boston belonged to Mr. Nat Reeves, of Richmond, Va., and after Decatur had defeated Fannie Wyatt in a four-mile heat race at Washington, D. C., Mr. James Long, a great admirer of Boston, and a close friend of Mr. Reeves, proposed to Captain Heath, the owner of Decatur, to match Boston against him, four-mile heats, for a purse of ,000, to be run at Camden, N. J., provided that he could get the use of Boston for the race. The match was accepted and ,000 forfeit put up. Mr. Long went over to Long Island, where Mr. Reeves had Boston attending the spring meeting, and made known his match, which was agreed to. Decatur was at Washington, while Duane and Charles Carter, both in the same stable, were gathering turf laurels at other places. Boston had never gone four miles up to this time, and there were many prominent turfmen who doubted his ability and courage to negotiate this distance in good company, consequently as soon as the match between him and Decatur became known it made the latter largely the choice in the betting, he having recently defeated that good mare, Fannie Wyatt, in the four-mile race above referred to.
Meanwhile the happy little man had edged them into the first of a small cluster of tables, where a dark-suited jabbering trio was just rising. He snapped his fingers and hissed through his teeth. A white-aproned waiter materialized.
“We kept it up for hours, she argyfyin’ an’ me argyfyin’, she prayin’ an’ me prayin’. I tell you, Boss, she wus er speedy filly, an’ she had no noshun ob quittin’. We went round de fus’ quarter ob de last mile nose and nose—argyment ergin argyment, prayer ergin prayer. I thout sho’ she had me distanced onct when she fotch out de scriptures on me an’ turned to de twenty-second chapter ob Exerdust an’ sed: ‘Brer Washington, read fur yo’self: “Thou shalt not afflict any widder or fatherless chile.”’ But I turned over to Timerthy, de fifth chapter an’ de third verse, an’ sez I, ‘Sister Calline, whut you read am Ole Testament. It am anshunt histery. Heah am de New Testament, heah am de new doctrine: “Honor widders dat am widders, indeed.”’ Oh, I tell you, Boss,” laughed the old man, “I sho’ hung onto de sulky wheels ob her contenshun wid de wings ob my orthorteries—you gotter hab sum speed lef’ fur de home stretch ef you wants ter beat er widder home!
“I afterwards heard that Kuykendall was killed by some of the party at the close of the ball.
Arthur was keenly interested. "I'm not sure that I do know the truth, Uncle Joe," he said. "Except—well, Hubert told me this afternoon that your father—er—keeps you pretty short of cash and so on; makes it jolly difficult for you to sort of—well—break away."
But I need not go on writing facts with which every one is acquainted. My concern now is to point out that Socialism repudiates the private ownership of the head of the family as completely as it repudiates any other sort of private ownership. Socialism involves the responsible citizenship of women, their economic independence of men, and all the personal freedom that follows that, it intervenes between the children and the parents, claiming to support them, protect详情 ➢
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