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Authors: Walter Farley
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did he let Bill see the circulars before posting them all over Pittsburgh. He knew that his partner didn’t like to make elaborate claims as to his ability, especially those that bordered on circus tricks and detracted from his serious objectives relating to horse management. On the other hand, he knew too that once the circulars were up Bill would be forced to go along with him. Besides, he had full confidence that they would not lose their five hundred dollars.
But what Finn did not take into consideration was the effect of blueberry pie on Bill Dailey’s stomach. Bill felt squeamish just before he was due to go into the ring. “I shouldn’t go on,” he told Finn.
“But you’ve got to!” the big man insisted. “I’ve filled the place for you.”
“Give them their money back.”
“It’s more than that. It’s five hundred dollars extra I’ll have to pay. It’s just about all we’ve got saved. We’ll be broke,
flat.
”
“You were the one who wrote the circular,” Bill pointed out.
“I didn’t know what blueberry pie did to you. If you knew it made you sick, why’d you eat it?”
“I like it,” Bill said simply.
“We’ll have to sell our horses, coach, everything.… ”
Bill rubbed his stomach. The cramps were gone. “I’ll try it, Finn. If it gets worse, I’ll have to …”
“Don’t even say it,” the big man said, pushing him into the ring.
The rented carriage house was filled to capacity. There were more people there than Bill had ever seen in one place in his life. He walked to the center of the ring, nervous and afraid, which did not make his stomach feel any better.
The huge crowd was waiting impatiently for him to begin. He said, “I know there is much interest in fine horses here, for your trotting races are among the best in the country. I-I therefore take it as a g-great pride and privilege to speak to you about the education of horses … and,” he hesitated before adding, “their owners.”
A man in the front row rose to his feet. “Sir,” he said, “we are not interested in what you have to say about
our
need for education. Neither are we interested in the kind of circus tricks you have advertised. Riding a colt in the streets without use of bridle orhalter is of no importance to us even though you may have a smart way of doing it. We are horsemen, sir, and there are those among us who have paid as much as $33,000 for a horse and would not sell him for $100,000! Our problems of horse management are
real
and we are not interested in learning
tricks!
”
Another man shouted, “Sit down, Mr. Lutz, and let the Professor say what he’s got to say. It’s him we came to listen to, not you. Besides, not all of us have high-priced driving horses. If he can fix me up with an easy way to drive my old Nell without her kickin’ me to kingdom come I want to know it.” He laughed heartily and the crowd joined in, relieving the tension.
As Bill Dailey laughed, too, his nervousness and fear left him.
“I’ll do the best I can,” he said. “I want to help everybody regardless of how much you’ve paid for your horses or what you use them for. Oftentimes your very life and property depend upon how much control you have over your horse. If he’s vicious either by nature of from bad handling, he’s dangerous and unfit for streets or racetrack. Something must be done to cure him. Most owners don’t know how to go about it. They only make matters worse.”
Another man in the audience stood up and shouted, “Don’t try to pull the wool over our eyes by fancy talk, Professor. We’ve heard men like you before an’ none of them have done us any good. You all want to keep any
secrets
you have to yourselves.”
“On the contrary, sir,” Bill Dailey answered quickly. “There are no secrets to good horse management and I will tell you all I know. Furthermore, I expect youto teach my methods to others. In that way more men and horses will benefit than I can reach
But what Finn did not take into consideration was the effect of blueberry pie on Bill Dailey’s stomach. Bill felt squeamish just before he was due to go into the ring. “I shouldn’t go on,” he told Finn.
“But you’ve got to!” the big man insisted. “I’ve filled the place for you.”
“Give them their money back.”
“It’s more than that. It’s five hundred dollars extra I’ll have to pay. It’s just about all we’ve got saved. We’ll be broke,
flat.
”
“You were the one who wrote the circular,” Bill pointed out.
“I didn’t know what blueberry pie did to you. If you knew it made you sick, why’d you eat it?”
“I like it,” Bill said simply.
“We’ll have to sell our horses, coach, everything.… ”
Bill rubbed his stomach. The cramps were gone. “I’ll try it, Finn. If it gets worse, I’ll have to …”
“Don’t even say it,” the big man said, pushing him into the ring.
The rented carriage house was filled to capacity. There were more people there than Bill had ever seen in one place in his life. He walked to the center of the ring, nervous and afraid, which did not make his stomach feel any better.
The huge crowd was waiting impatiently for him to begin. He said, “I know there is much interest in fine horses here, for your trotting races are among the best in the country. I-I therefore take it as a g-great pride and privilege to speak to you about the education of horses … and,” he hesitated before adding, “their owners.”
A man in the front row rose to his feet. “Sir,” he said, “we are not interested in what you have to say about
our
need for education. Neither are we interested in the kind of circus tricks you have advertised. Riding a colt in the streets without use of bridle orhalter is of no importance to us even though you may have a smart way of doing it. We are horsemen, sir, and there are those among us who have paid as much as $33,000 for a horse and would not sell him for $100,000! Our problems of horse management are
real
and we are not interested in learning
tricks!
”
Another man shouted, “Sit down, Mr. Lutz, and let the Professor say what he’s got to say. It’s him we came to listen to, not you. Besides, not all of us have high-priced driving horses. If he can fix me up with an easy way to drive my old Nell without her kickin’ me to kingdom come I want to know it.” He laughed heartily and the crowd joined in, relieving the tension.
As Bill Dailey laughed, too, his nervousness and fear left him.
“I’ll do the best I can,” he said. “I want to help everybody regardless of how much you’ve paid for your horses or what you use them for. Oftentimes your very life and property depend upon how much control you have over your horse. If he’s vicious either by nature of from bad handling, he’s dangerous and unfit for streets or racetrack. Something must be done to cure him. Most owners don’t know how to go about it. They only make matters worse.”
Another man in the audience stood up and shouted, “Don’t try to pull the wool over our eyes by fancy talk, Professor. We’ve heard men like you before an’ none of them have done us any good. You all want to keep any
secrets
you have to yourselves.”
“On the contrary, sir,” Bill Dailey answered quickly. “There are no secrets to good horse management and I will tell you all I know. Furthermore, I expect youto teach my methods to others. In that way more men and horses will benefit than I can reach
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