Man O'War

Man O'War

Walter Farley

Language: English

Pages: 352

ISBN: 0394860152

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

"An exciting, moving piece of fiction based on the facts about one of the
greatest horses of all time. The feeling for horses, horse breeding and
training, and horse racing is masterfully handled. Thrilling, highly
recommended."--(starred) "School Library Journal."

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to be weaned. What’s Mrs. Kane waiting for?” “She weans when the time’s right, when it best suits our work schedule and when the colts are ready for it.” “Isn’t that about now?” “The time’s all right, boy. But you notice Red’s got the sniffles, don’t you?” “Just a little,” Danny said. “It’s not much of a cold.” “It’s enough to keep us from weaning him yet,” the old man said adamantly. “Weaning’s a shock on any colt, no matter how big an’ strong he is. He dries up a little, ’specially since

to the next horse. For a long while those who examined Man o’ War kept their opinion of the colt to themselves. Then an old woman, who looked more like someone’s grandmother than a buyer of yearlings, whispered to her male companion. “He has wide hips, which appeals to me. They’re like a strong man with wide shoulders. They give a horse more power.” She glanced up to find Danny listening to her. “Move him, son,” she said quietly. “On the dirt, not the grass.” Danny walked Man o’ War down the

over until finally he slept. Early the next morning Louis Feustel showed up at Man o’ War’s stall with a short, heavyset man at his side. “This is Harry Vititoe, Danny,” the trainer said. “He’s breaking our colts. Take Red out, please.” Danny snapped the lead shank to Man o’ War’s halter. He knew the time had come for some very important lessons in his colt’s life. “Easy, Red. Easy,” he said softly. “Show them how nicely you can act.” But there was anxiety in his eyes as he met the gaze of the

saddling didn’t begin with putting on the saddle. He picked up the saddlecloth and spread it across the colt’s broad back. He pulled the front end well over the withers and made sure that the cloth hung evenly on both sides. He wanted it flat and unwrinkled. Satisfied, he placed the thick felt saddle pad across the back, making sure that the front part was well up on the withers but just a little to the rear of the forward edge of the cloth. He folded the cloth back over the pad, keeping it even

the historic Preakness. The ovation rose to its greatest heights when the horseshoe of black-eyed Susans was placed about his neck. He stood quietly, his head held high, his gleaming flanks scarcely damp. He looked every bit the noble champion he was. Far back in the crowd Danny waited, his eyes leaving Man o’ War to glance impatiently into the dusk of the eastern sky. Only with the coming night would Man o’ War be his alone again. Then he would be able to tell him what a great three-year-old he

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