Phemie Frost's ExperiencesStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
Phemie Frost's Experiences
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
Fiction
Bless you, the splendid creature didn't care a cent for it all. The
crazy applause passed him like wind. He liked the fresh air, and gloried
in a swift run, on his own hook; twenty-five thousand dollars were
nothing to him. But he showed off his magnificent proportions and
allowed the hot sunshine to stroam over his brown coat with the most
abominable indifference.
I insist upon it, Longfellow is a noble horse, but not so handsome or so
lithe in his movement as Bassett. If these two creatures should ever
come to Sprucehill, I know you will all stand by me in what I say--but
then every one of you would be turned out of meeting if you only looked
at a race-horse through a spy-glass.
Well, when the two handsome beasts had shown themselves off long enough,
they drew up together and made ready for a start. A red flag was
floating close by them. There was no noise now; not a man in all those
benches clapped his hands. Instead of that, the whole crowd seemed
afraid to breathe.
The red flag fell. The two horses started close together, and kept so
once round the course; then that long-bodied fellow began to stretch
himself a little ahead. They passed us like two arrows shot from one
bow, Longfellow's head showing first. Once more they went round. Now a
roll of wild, thundering noises followed them. Longfellow was ahead; you
could see a gap of light between them. Beautiful Harry Bassett tried his
best; but that long-bodied trooper just flew, and came out yards ahead.
I declare it riled me. I know that the chestnut beauty could have beaten
if something hadn't been the matter with him. Poor fellow! he looked
awfully down in the mouth when he was ridden up right into the whirlwind
of noises that rejoiced over that other horse. It seemed to me as if he
knew the pain and humiliation of defeat, just as well as if he had been
human; I am sure he did. Still, sisters, I stand by Harry Bassett.
Oh, mercy, how hot it was coming home those three dusty miles! How tired
and thankful I was when we got safely into the Ocean Hotel, with plenty
of lemonade and ice-water, with a cool wind blowing up from the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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