How Salvator Won and Other Recitations

THE gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,

More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne.

I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout

Went up from the people who watched me ride out;

And the cheers that rang forth from that warm-hearted crowd,

Were as earnest as those to which monarch e’er bowed.

My heart thrilled with pleasure so keen it was pain

As I patted my Salvator’s soft silken mane;

And a sweet shiver shot from his hide to my hand

As we passed by the multitude down to the stand.

The great waves of cheering came billowing back,

As the hoofs of brave Tenny rang swift down the track;

And he stood there beside us, all bone and all muscle,

Our noble opponent, well trained for the tussle

That waited us there on the smooth, shining course.

My Salvator, fair to the lovers of horse,

As a beautiful woman is fair to man’s sight—

Pure type of the thoroughbred, clean-limbed and bright,—

Stood taking the plaudits as only his due,

And nothing at all unexpected or new.

And then, there before us the bright flag is spread,

There’s a roar from the grand stand, and Tenny’s ahead;

At the sound of the voices that shouted “a go!”

He sprang like an arrow shot straight from the bow.

I tighten the reins on Prince Charlie’s great son—

He is off like a rocket, the race is begun.

Half-way down the furlong, their heads are together,

Scarce room ’twixt their noses to wedge in a feather;

Past grand stand, and judges, in neck-to-neck strife,

Ah, Salvator, boy! ’tis the race of your life.

I press my knees closer, I coax him, I urge,

I feel him go out with a leap and a surge;

I see him creep on, inch by inch, stride by stride,

While backward, still backward, falls Tenny beside.

We are nearing the turn, the first quarter is past—

’Twixt leader and chaser the daylight is cast.

The distance elongates, still Tenny sweeps on,

As graceful and free-limbed and swift as a fawn;

His awkwardness vanished, his muscles all strained—

A noble opponent, well born and well trained.

I glanced o’er my shoulder, ha! Tenny, the cost

Of that one second’s flagging, will be—the race lost.

One second’s weak yielding of courage and strength,

And the daylight between us has doubled its length.