Well, I took it down to the
races at New York, and father he went along with me; for says he,
'Sam, you don't know everything, I guess, you hain't cut your wisdom
teeth yet, and you are goin' among them that's had 'em through their
gums this while past.' Well, when we gets to the races, father he
gets colt and puts him in an old wagon, with a worn out Dutch
harness, and breast band; he looked like Old Nick, that's a fact.
Then he fastened a head martingale on, and buckled it to the girths
atwixt his fore legs. Says I, 'Father, what on airth are you at? I
vow I feel ashamed to be seen with such a catamaran as that, and colt
looks like old Satan himself--no soul would know him.' 'I guess I
warn't born yesterday, Sam,' says he, 'let me be, I know what I am at.
I guess I'll slip it into 'em afore I've done as slick as a whistle.
I guess I can see as far into a millstone as the best on 'em.'
"Well, father never entered the horse at all, but stood by and seed
the races, and the winnin' horse was followed about by the matter of
two or three thousand people, a-praisin' of him and admirin' him.
They seemed as if they never had seed a horse afore. The owner of him
was all up on eend a-boastin' of him, and a-stumpin' the course to
produce a horse to run agin him for four hundred dollars. Father goes
up to him, lookin' as soft as dough, and as meechin' as you please,
and says he, 'Friend, it ain't every one that has four hundred
dollars; it's a plaguy sight of money, I tell you; would you run for
one hundred dollars, and give me a little start? If you would, I'd
try my colt out of my old wagon agin you, I vow.
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