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Updated: June 5, 2025
Whitethorn, the winner of the race, was back in the ring and unsaddled before the old man reached the half-mile pole. Jockey Moseby Jones, plastered with mud from his bullet head to his boots, shaken and bruised but otherwise unhurt, clung to Obadiah's bridle. "Now, honey, you jus' stan' still!" he was saying. "Jus' stan' still an' we git yo' laig fixed up in no time; no time a-a-a-tall."
One by one they dropped off, until the only person he could find to go round with him was old Major Moseby, whose hearing completely petered out as long ago as the year '98. And, of course, Celia Tennant would play with him occasionally; but it seemed to me that even she, greatly as no doubt she loved him, was beginning to crack under the strain.
Miss Amber had managed to shove her brown nose in front, with Regulator at her saddle girth. Many an anxious eye was turned on Black Bill; many saw his transformation but none was better prepared for it than Jockey Moseby Jones. He saw the first wrap slide from Grogan's wrists. "Come on, baby!" yelled Mose, bumping Elisha with his spurs. "Come on! We got a race here afteh all!
I carefully investigated the facts, and gathered the following statement from both white and colored citizens. I have good reasons for placing entire confidence in its correctness. A large number of slaves were hanged, owned by the following persons: Frank Susetts, 26; James Susetts, 7; Dr. Stanton, 8; Dr. Moseby, 26; widow Albert Dunbar, 48; Mrs. Brady, 12; widow E. Baker, 28; Mrs.
Engle is in there, and O'Connor and a lot more that have been under cover. 'Lisha is goin' a mile this morning. Better catch him when he breaks. He's off!" Whatever Jockey Moseby Jones thought of his orders, he knew better than to disobey them.
Those who were yelling wildly for Athelstan, Miller Boy, and the others saw a flash of cherry jacket on the rail, caught a glimpse of a bullet-headed little negro hurling himself forward in the stirrups and the race was over. Jockey Moseby Jones had brought a despised outsider home a winner by half a length.
He looked at Obadiah's leg, sucked in his breath with a whistling sound more expressive than words, and faced Old Man Curry. "Want the 'vet' to see him?" asked the newcomer. "No use in him suffering that long," said the old man dully. "He's ruined. Might as well get it over with." Jockey Moseby Jones wailed aloud. "Oh, don' let 'em shoot Obadiah, boss!" he pleaded.
Bald Eagle, Amphion, and Remorseful were supposed to be the contenders, but their riders jogged blithely to the post with Broadsword tickets in their bootlegs and riding orders of a sort to make those pasteboards valuable. Jockey Moseby Jones, on Elisha, was overlooked when these favours were surreptitiously distributed, but his bootleg was not empty.
Daniel Lacy had nine houses and servants and applied for and drew rations for his whole family. John Kimbo had servants out at work and drew rations for all his family, and had a number of houses. Mrs. Mary Ann Moseby had a grocery store well supplied, and drew rations and sold them. Mrs. Elizabeth Hunt also kept a full grocery, and drew rations to sell. Mrs.
You reckon 'em crooked judges kin see us when we risin' up?" "We'll have to fix it so's they can't overlook us, Mose." "Ought to git 'em some eyeglasses then," was the sulky response. "Seven and one that's eight, Mose. We've got Solomon's word for it." Jockey Moseby Jones shook his head doubtfully. "Mebbe so, boss, mebbe so, but thisyere Sol'mun's been dead a lo-o-ng time now.
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