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Updated: June 29, 2025
He poured something from a bottle into a saucer and went back to Pacer with it. I followed him and stood outside. Mr. Wood seemed to be washing a sore in the horse's mouth. Pacer winced a little, and Mr. Wood said: "Steady, steady, my beauty; 'twill soon be over." The horse fixed his intelligent eyes on his master and looked as if he knew that he was trying to do him good.
A rapid walker poetically and humourously minded gathers multitudes of images on his way. And rain, the heaviest you can meet, is a lively companion when the resolute pacer scorns discomfort of wet clothes and squealing boots.
Let's go over to Jim's and run on his track. Say, Jim, I got the best little pacer in the country here get up there, Pilliken," and he clucked and sawed his arms, and cracked an imaginary whip. When George came in, the face on the bed brightened and the treble voice said: "Hello Fatty we've been waitin' for you. Now let's go on. What you got in your wagon humph bet it's a pumpkin.
Squarely across the middle of the road, begrimed with dust, and with a dead Federal under him and another on top, lay the big white-footed pacer. At one side the enemy's fallen wounded were being laid in the shade to be left behind.
If a horse has got a serious trouble, get a good horse doctor, say I. If it's a simple thing, try a simple remedy. There's been many a good horse drugged and dosed to death. Well, Scamp, my beauty, how are you, this morning?" In the stall next to Pacer, was a small, jet-black mare, with a lean head, slender legs, and a curious restless manner.
Father knew perfectly well what he was doing, and was wondering what would be the best way to deal with him, when one day something happened that brought matters to a climax. "Father had to go to Sudbury for farming tools, and took Pacer and the cutter. There are two ways of going there one the Sudbury Road, and the other the old Post Road, which is longer and seldom used.
When father got near the place, he was astonished to see by Pacer's actions that he had been on this road before, and recently, too. Father is so sharp about horses, that they never do a thing that he doesn't attach a meaning to. So he let the reins hang a little loose, and kept his eye on Pacer.
Don't drive yo' ole pacer hard jes' walk around him, sah. Do as you please, you've earned the privilege. It's yo' walk over an' yo' money." The fifth heat was almost a repetition of the fourth, the old pacer beating the tired mare cruelly, pacing her to a standstill. It was all over with Lizzette, anyone could see that. The judges hung out: 5th Heat: Ben Butler, 1st; Lizzette, 2nd. Time, 2:24.
In the course of his remarks, father mentioned the fact that on Monday, the evening that the robbery was committed, Jacobs had borrowed Pacer to go to the Junction, but had come in with the horse steaming, and looking as if he had been driven a much longer distance than that. Father said that when he got done, Jacobs had sunk down all in a heap on the stable floor with his hands over his face.
"Hillow, deacon," shouted one of the boys, who was driving a trim-looking bay, and who had crossed the line at the ending of the course second only to the pacer that could "speed like lightning," as the boys said; "Hillow, deacon, ain't you going to shake out old shamble-heels and show us fellows what speed is, to-day?"
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