linen--an almost
unbroken line of fried chicken, flanked with pickles and salad, and
all the rich profusion of the country wife's pantry.

And now, after lunch, the grand stand had been quickly filled, for
the fame of the great race had spread up and down the valley, and the
valley dearly loved a horse-race.

Five hundred dollars was considered a large purse, but this race was
three thousand!

Three thousand! It would buy a farm. It would buy thirty mules, and
twice that many steers. It would make a family independent for life.

And to-day it was given to see which one, of three rich men, owned
the best horse.

No wonder that everybody for miles around was there.

Sturdy farmers with fat daughters, jaded wives, and lusty sons who
stepped awkwardly on everything on the promenade, and in trying to
get off stepped on themselves. They went about, with broad, strong,
stooping shoulders, and short coats that sagged in the middle,
dropping under-jaws, and eyes that were kindly and shrewd.

The town people were better dressed and fed than the country people,
and but only half way in fashion between the city and country, yet
knowing it not.

The infield around the judges' stand, and in front of the
grand-stand, was thronged with surreys and buggies, and filled with
ladies and their beaux. A ripple of excitement had gone up when
Richard Travis drove up in a tally-ho. It was filled with gay gowns
and alive with merriment and laughter, and though Alice Westmore was
supposed to be on the driver's box with the owner, she was not there.

Tennesseans were there in force to back Flecker's gelding--Trumps,
and they played freely and made much noise. Col. Troup's
mare--Trombine--had her partisans who were also vociferous. But
Travis's entry, Lizzette, was a favorite, and, when he appeared on
the track to warm up, the valley shouted itself hoarse.

Then Flecker shot out of the draw-gate and spun merrily around the
track, and Col. Troup joined him with Trombine, and the audience
watched the three trotters warm up and shouted or applauded each as
it spun past the grand-stand.

Then the starting-judge held up a silk bag in the center of the wire.
It held three thousand dollars in gold, and it swung around and then
settled, to a shining, shimmering silken sack, swaying the wire as it
flashed in the sun.

The starting-judge clanged his bell, but the drivers, being
gentlemen, were heedless of rules and drove on around still warmi