Polly ran off to
give the order for the coach-and-four, for the races began at one
o'clock and the course was a short distance out of the city.

There soon came a clatter of hoofs, a rattle, a slam and a bang, a
whoaing, a yelling, and a confusion of noises.

"They have put the colts in," cried Mistress Betsy with glee, and
Mistress Polly was at the door crying, "Come on."

"Great Jove!" said I to myself, as I seized my hat and followed after,
for though I had driven many a wild team I had never done so through a
town before. And four devils they were for a certainty, a little under
size, but making up for that by the fire and vim of their proceedings.

The heels of the wheelers were playing like castanets on the
dashboard, while the leaders were in the air half the time as they
swayed above the crowd of darkies, who, hanging on everywhere, were
trying to hold them down, while the great coach swayed and rocked
behind.

There was a flash of skirts, a gleam of the smallest feet in the
world, and Mistress Polly and Mistress Betsy were in their places, and
I had sprung to my seat and gathered the reins in my hands.

"All ready, Captain?"

"Ready. Let go." They scattered like chaff. There was a flash of hoofs
and they were off like a shot, their bodies stretched low to the
ground, the great coach rolling and rocking behind.

Luckily the street ended in a country road, for the street and the
houses were gone in an instant, and we were rushing along between
green fields. A column of dust rose up and whirled behind us, and the
road stretched like a ribbon before, while the young ladies at my side
laughed and clapped their hands in glee. After several miles the pace
began to tell, I slowly brought them under control, and by the time I
had come to the race-course I had them well in hand. We had gone
several miles out of our way, but by taking a short cut we arrived at
the races on time. I brought the four colts into the field with a dash
and a flourish as they were preparing for the first race.

The course was a great level field of greensward, oval in shape, with
the track in beautiful condition. Far down the track on either hand,
almost encircling the field, stretched the lines of the coaches,
chariots, gigs, and wagons. Gentlemen on horseback and on foot, an
eager, bustling crowd, gay with colours and bright faces, already
tingling with the excitement of the coming race, made a stirring
scene; for the Trinity of the