Language came from this person in volcanic blasts, and the
seething mass, where infant education was brewing, boiled and boiled
again.
"That bay filly's a nice-lookin' trick, Four Eyes!" said Blister,
pointing out a two-year-old standing somewhat apart from the rest.
"She's by Hamilton 'n' her dam's Alberta, by Seminole."
The bay filly, I soon observed, had more than beauty--she was so
obviously the outcome of a splendid and selected ancestry. Even her
manners were aristocratic. She faced the barrier with quiet dignity
and took no part in the whirling riot except to move disdainfully aside
when it threatened to engulf her. I turned to Blister and found him
gazing at the filly with a far-away look in his eyes.
"Ole Alberta was a grand mare," he said presently. "I see her get away
last in the Crescent City Derby 'n' be ten len'ths back at the quarter.
But she come from nowhere, collared ole Stonebrook in the stretch,
looked him in the eye the last eighth 'n' outgamed him at the wire.
She has a hundred 'n' thirty pounds up at that.
"Ole Alberta dies when she has this filly," he went on after a pause.
"Judge Dillon, over near Lexington, owned her, 'n' Mrs. Dillon brings
the filly up on the bottle. See how nice that filly stands? Handled
every day since she was foaled, 'n' never had a cross word. Sugar
every mawnin' from Mrs. Dillon. That's way to learn a colt somethin'."
At last the colts were formed into a disorderly line.
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