Sad it is to see the courage go out of a horse, the fire die in him that made him swift, so that though he runs against equals in a valiant race and every flag is lifted for his triumph, his heart fails him in the hazard of his task, he falters and cannot win. It was a sad thing that happened, last week, at Laurel, Md. There Epinard was running ; the race, the Laurel Stakes; the distance, one mile; the prize, $10,000. He was a favorite among favorites, "for," said the lean men...
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