Sport: A Shame

Epinard, prize package of French horseflesh, cantered to the post of the Aqueduct (L. I.) racecourse, stood patient while five of the fleetest steeds in the U. S. milled about beside him. They were to run a mile and see who finished first. Finally aligned, the six were signaled "Go!"

Off they bolted, Major August Belmont's Ladkin on the rail, then Epinard, then Wise Counsellor (Epinard's conqueror at Belmont Park on Labor Day), then Zev, Little Chief, My Own. Sweeping the turn, streaking down the backstretch, Epinard's chestnut head showed the way....

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