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Updated: April 30, 2025
Perhaps he was a son of Hanover, but Hanoverian or no, he was a thoroughbred. In the ordinary course of events he would have been tried out with the other three-year olds for the big meet on Churchill Downs. In the hands of a good trainer he might have carried to victory the silk of some great stable and had his name printed in the sporting almanacs to this day.
Bernhard Trainer, the tall son of an old and wealthy family, who loved Martina Hiltner, and had been incensed by Barbara's treatment of her, seemed to gain his point, and when the city pipers began to play again, all of them probably a dozen in number passed by her arm-in-arm in couples, with their eyes studiously fixed upon the opposite side of the dancing floor.
"Emperor is sour. Got a regular grouch on." "Misses that young rascal Phil, I suppose?" "Yes." "H-m-m-m!" "Didn't want to come through last night at all." "H-m-m-m. Guess we'd better fire you and let the boy handle the bulls; don't you think so?" The trainer grinned and nodded. "Kennedy, you've been making your brags that you always tell me the truth.
I don' wanna git a duckin'! I I got a cold in my " Splash blub blub blub Toby's black little eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief as he gave a final tug and plunged the trainer into the water. Then while the man floundered about, the animal deliberately put his two front feet onto the edge of the shelf and reached out toward the pile of loaves.
Yet it is a most miserable and pitiable state to be in, not to be able to deny these charges which are the most disgraceful conceivable to admit. But I will leave these to one side and bring forward the rest. Well, though we did grant the trainer, as you say, two thousand plethra of the ager Leontinus, we still learned nothing adequate from it. But who should not admire your system of instruction?
You'll have your elephant back, and before many days at that. Go watch the show and forget your troubles." It will be observed that, under his apparently excitable exterior, Mr. James Sparling was a philosopher. "Emperor's in jail," mourned Phil. The moment Mr. Kennedy returned, sullen and uncommunicative, Phil sought him out. He found the trainer in Mr. Sparling's tent.
Deaf to this unanswerable reason for the absence of friends, Mr. Speedwell insisted on sending Perry out to search among the persons who composed the crowd. The trainer returned with his report. "You were right, Sir. There are some of his friends outside. They want to see him." "Let two or three of them in." Three came in. They stared at him. They uttered brief expressions of pity in slang.
"For heaven's sake," she cried, "don't shoot at him with that thing. You might hit him." "I don't intend to shoot at him but I might succeed in frightening him away if he attempts to reach us here. Haven't you ever seen a trainer work with lions? He carries a silly little pop-gun loaded with blank cartridges. With that and a kitchen chair he subdues the most ferocious of beasts."
The horse, proud, dignified, began to pace slowly to the time of the accompanying music, executing difficult steps that must have tried the patience of both animal and trainer during the teaching period; the rider, lithe, alert, proud also, smiling his pleasure. Rosalind stood there long, watching. It was a clever exhibition, and she found herself wondering about the rider.
The lights grew rapidly nearer, and the watchers knew that this was the squad of men of which the trainer had spoken. Soon they reached the fire where the head trainer had made his headquarters, and after a brief halt started to surround the woods. Each man of the party held a flaring, smoking gasoline torch, and their combined strength gave a brilliant illumination.
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