nervousness, giving it a lilt like a robin's, said:--


THE RUN OF CRUSADER

I

Full weight they had given the gallant big Black--a hundred
and sixty he carried;
And the run for the "Hunt Cup" was over three miles, with
mud-wall and water-jump studded.
The best racing days of the old horse were past--there'd
never been better nor braver
But now once again he must carry the silk I was needing the
help of Crusader.
Could he win at the weight, I whisperingly asked, as I
cinched up the saddle girt' tight;
He snuggled my hand as I gathered the rein, and I laughed
when they talked of defeat.
To the call of the bugle I swung to his back--like a rock was
the strength of his quarters.
At sight of the people he arched his lean neck, and they,
cheered for my King of all Hunters.

II

Ten horses would strive for the prize--a big field, and the
pace would be killing.
From the West came Sweet Silver, a gray, gallant, and
fearless in jumping.