Phemie Frost's ExperiencesStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
Phemie Frost's Experiences
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
Fiction
"Where have they gone?" says I. "What has become of 'em?"
"Here they come--here they come," shouted the whole crowd, answering me
all at once.
And they did come skimming along the road like
wildfire--flash--flash--now two horses abreast--now one ahead--now
another--then a sudden pull up, and the brown horse had won. Now it
seemed to me as if the whole squad came up pretty much at the same time,
but the whole crowd fell to clapping hands over the brown horse. I
clapped too, and swung out my handkerchief as well as the rest; for when
a multitude go into a thing like that it just sets one wild.
Then the flag took another fall, and off went another squad of horses,
and around the hill they went out of sight. Then came a stormy sound of
hoofs, and another streak of lightning dash in which a chestnut-colored
horse showed his head first, and then came another rolling thunder-clap
from the crowd, and "Joe Daniels has beat," ran from lip to lip, as if
"Joe Daniels" had been up for the Presidential election and got all the
votes.
Then the people cooled down, and, after a long wait, there was another
rush, as if a whole training band had broke loose. We had hardly time to
draw a deep breath, when they all came sweeping round in front of the
long tavern, two of 'em just a little ahead, running so even and so
fast, that I really believed that both of them beat the other, till the
crowd began to clap and shout Alarm, which frightened me, for I thought
something dreadful had happened; but Dempster hushed me up, saying it
was the name of the horse that had won the race, and he was glad of it,
for his friend Travers was one of the warmest-hearted, kindest fellows
in the world, and ought to have a horse win every day of his life. This
friendly little speech set me clapping my hands, both for the horse
Alarm, his orange-colored rider, and the jolly-hearted man who owns
him.
There was a great commotion after this. The whole crowd was in a wild
whirl of excitement. All the ladies were talking about gloves and pools,
and gentleman riders, while the gentlemen talked fast, looked eager, and
were restless as caged birds. Something was going to happen now, I was
sure of that.
"Do tell me what is the matter," says I to a gentleman that cousin had
just introduced to me, "everybody is so excited."
"Yes," says he, "all on the keyvive."
What queer names they do have for horses. Alarm had just come in ahead,
and now Keyvive.
"What kind of a horse is the Keyvive?" says I.
He didn't seem to hear me. No wonder, for that very minute five horses,
with such nice-looking fellows on their backs, took a start, like a
flock of wild deer, and went up the road so swift that before I could
see them they were gone.
"It is the hurdle-race," says the same gentleman, "splendid--splendid;
what a leap!"
His eyes were bright as stars; they fairly danced in his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account