was crowded with people. The weight became excessive. The iron posts
next to the sidewalk, which sustained the veranda, slid out, and the
platform swung down like a table leaf, spilling everybody onto the
sidewalk. Eight or nine people were killed outright, and many more very
severely injured.

When about twelve years of age I got hold of two greyhounds, sisters,
named "Flora" and "Queen." During the winter time I spent much time
chasing jackrabbits. In summer time the ground got so hard that the dogs
would not run. The ground hurt their feet. But in the winter we had
great sport. There was an immense open plain east of our property, miles
long and miles wide, and level as a floor. There was a dry weed, without
leaves and of a reddish color, which grew in patches all over this
plain. These weed patches were the hiding places of the jackrabbits. The
game was exciting and stirred one's sporting blood. I found a great
difference in the speed of jackrabbits--as much in fact as in the speed
of blooded horses. Occasionally I would get up one that would actually
run away from the dogs, which were a fast pair. I followed the sport so
persistently, and paid so little attention to fences when they
interfered with my going, that I got the appellation in the neighborhood
of "that d Ñ d Graves boy."

When we got up a hare, away we went after the dogs, just as fast as our
horses would carry us. The sport was hard on horseflesh, so much so that
my father finally forbade me running any of our horses after the hounds.
There lived in our neighborhood a man who owned, and who had put upon
the track some of the fastest horses in the State. At this time he had
retired and raised horses for the fun of it. He also had some good
hounds. He enjoyed the sport as much as I did. Having plenty of good
horses, he furnished me with as many as I needed. We spent many days in