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LOWLANDERS ROMANTIC CAREER. Inventors come from strange resting places. Patsey licOermott, the sad-time jockey, is about to Startle the world with a machine which is to treat horses by electricity, curing them of every ailment, by the mystic power which old Ron Eranklin tried to draw from the cloud by his kite. So we may expect to sec Electric Equine Parlors established at the tracks. In tile good old "Gut" days, when cakes and ale wt re plenty, and no happy man had a dull afternoon at his finger ends, certain electric appliances uo-o much talked of. Patsey rode Lowlaudor to victory in the 1803 Suburban, with Fred bmi running in a smaller circle found the infield, transmit ting possible wireless electrics to Palsy, or the horse. Fred certainly was full of every tiling thai should make a horse run. and a boy ride, for he had begged, and borrowed, and "touched to the extreme limit of his deadbrokonnoss to "put it all" on the horse he know would win, Which did win. but Fred never saw it. He was face downwards in the Ion-- mass of the infield, falling all of a heap when lie s*a victory was absolutely assured, toddling in later, weak as a half drowned cat. to receive congratulations as he fecblv rushed to the telegraph SUsee to wire the major part of his winning to — his mother. Tea, his mother. Poor old Lowlander. another of those horses with a romantic career. Brought over here in utero. by William Enston. he was raised at Hunters Point. Where he ran in ami out of good Mrs. Burkes kitchen, getting his nose in the pots whenever he had a chance, just as a big dog would. lie was broken there, and turned over to Jimmy McCormick to train, who said: "Hes not worth a cent; has set any action to speak of." Later he was placed in a sale and sent out without a hid. Later still McCormick told Easton: "I know a sucker will give 8186 for him." Easton replied: "I know a sucker who will give 81,660," He did not. it was char bluff, but Easton always believed in the colt making good. Later still Easton sold Lowlander to Charlie Maxwell for ,000, and in the April he began to win races, much to McCormicks disgust. Maxwell sold him to Charlie Oxx for .2.00 or SI. .". * . I forget Which, sad then came the old days at Qatteaberg Where Ceorge Taylor, drunk as an English lord never gets, except proverbially, was left it tin start in a seven furlong race, to win on the past after a wonderful performance, this race being the forerunner of his Suburban win. Lest we forget, lest we forget. — Spsrtl of the Times.
