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It was in the third mile that Jockey Moseby Jones began to urge the big horse. At first there seemed to be no result, but gradually, almost imperceptibly, the heavy plugging stride grew longer. Auckland still held her commanding lead, but Pharaoh marked his gain on Ambrose Churchill and The Maori, leaving them a bitter and hopeless battle for fourth place.
Again the Ghost was called on and responded, but the best he had left and all he had left, was barely sufficient to enable him to hold his own. Opposite the paddock inclosure, with the grand stand looming ahead, the horses were running nose and nose; ten yards more and the imported jockey drew his whip. Moseby Jones cackled aloud. "You ain't stuck on 'is yere white sellin' plater, is you, 'Lisha?
He ain't done a thing yet." "He always runs that way," said the wise ones. "Wait till he hits the upper turn." Abe Goldmark, standing on a stool on the lawn, wrinkled his brow in perplexity. "About time for that bird to quit," said he to himself. "He ain't got any license to run a mile with a leg like that!" Jockey Moseby Jones was also beginning to wonder what ailed Black Bill.
After the Kid had gone rocketing back to the betting ring, Curry turned to Jockey Moseby Jones. "Mose," said he, "don't lay too far out of it to-day. This grey hoss lasts pretty well, so begin workin' on 'Lisha sooner than usual. He's ready to stand a long, hard drive. Bring him home in front, boy!" "Sutny will!" chuckled the little negro. "At's bes' thing I do!"
When the partiality of the colored man for the former aristocrats became generally known, they the former aristocrats, began to come into the Republican party in large numbers. In Mississippi they were led by such men as Alcorn, in Georgia by Longstreet, in Virginia by Moseby, and also had as leaders such ex-governors as Orr, of South Carolina; Brown, of Georgia, and Parsons, of Alabama.
Moseby Jones was carried off the track in a gorgeous floral horseshoe, his woolly head bobbing among the roses and his teeth putting the white carnations to shame.
What's all this hullabaloo about?" shouted the old gentleman. No reply no halt upon the part of the mechanics, but away they went down the steps and along the street, as though Satan himself, or Moseby the guerrilla, was at their heels.
I was engaged in her support, and at the first rehearsal I recollect saying to my dear old friend, Arthur Moseby dead, alas, these many years. An excellent juvenile, but, like so many good fellows, cursed with a tendency to lift the elbow I recollect saying to him 'Arthur, dear boy, I give it two weeks. 'Max, was his reply, 'you are an incurable optimist.
Jockey Moseby Jones, gorgeous as a tropical butterfly in the cherry jacket with green sleeves and the red, white and blue cap, pranced into General Duval's paddock stall and listened intently as old Gabe bent over him. "Yo' ain't fo'got whut we tole yo' last night, son?" asked Gabe in anxious tones. "Ain't fo'got nuthin'," was the sober answer. "'Cause eve'ything 'pend on how it look."
"I knows him well 'nough to wish yo' hadn't 'vited him to do his floppin' in yo' tack-room!" "Ah-hah!" said Old Man Curry reflectively. "Mose, I reckon you never heard what Job said?" Jockey Moseby Jones heaved a deep sigh. "Heah it comes again!" he murmured. "No, boss; he said such a many things I kain't seem to keep track of 'em all. Whut he say now?"
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