races. And I says to Henrietta, 'Child, I don't call
this a fair; why, it's jest nothin' but a gamblin' den and a whisky
saloon. And,' says I, 'I know now what old Uncle Henry Matthews
meant.' I'd asked the old man if he was goin' to show anything at the
fair that year, and he said, 'No, Jane. Unless you've got somethin'
for the town folks to bet on, it ain't worth while.'

"But there was one thing I did enjoy that day, and that was the races.
There's some folks thinks that racin' horses is a terrible sin; but I
don't. It's the bettin' and the swearin' that goes with the racin'
that's the sin. If folks'd behave as well as the horses behaves, a
race'd be jest as religious as a Sunday-school picnic. There ain't a
finer sight to me than a blooded horse goin' at a two-forty gait round
a smooth track, and the sun a-shinin' and the flags a-wavin' and the
wind blowin' and the folks cheerin' and hollerin'. So, when Henrietta
said the races was goin' to begin, I says, says I, 'Here, child, take
hold o' my arm and help me down these steps; I'm goin' to see one more
race before I die.' And Henrietta helped me down, and we went over to
the grand stand and got a good seat where I could see the horses when
they come to the finish. I tell you, honey, it made me feel young
again jest to see them horses coverin' the ground like they did. My
father used to raise fine horses, and Abram used to say that when it
come to knowin' a horse's p'ints, he'd back me against any man in
Kentucky. I'll have to be a heap older'n I am now before I see the day
when I wouldn't turn around and walk a good piece to look at a fine
horse."

And the old lady gave a laugh at this confession of weakness.

"It was like old times to see the way them horses run. And when they
come to the finish I was laughin' and hollerin' as much as anybody.
And jest then somebody right behind me give a yell, and says he:

"'Hurrah for old Kentucky! When it comes to fine horses and fine
whisky and fine women, she can't be beat.'

"Everybody begun to laugh, and a man right in front o' me says, 'It's
that young feller from Lexin'ton. His father's one o' the biggest
horsemen in the state. That's his horse that's jest won the race.' And
I turned around to see, and there was a boy about the size o' my
youngest grandchild up at Danville. His hat was set on the back of his
head, and his hair was combed down over his eyes till he looked like
he'd come out of a feeble-minded school. H