himself.
PANIC TAMED
Before the Queen and Royal Family, Prof. Finn Caspersen yesterday subdued the notorious horse Panic, owned by Lord Oliver.
Panic had been vicious from the time he was a colt and was kept for breeding purposes at the Winchester Stud, forty-one miles from London, in a building erected especially for him. He was so vicious that he would scream when anyone approached and would attempt to smash his stall into lucifer matches. No one went near him, for he would destroy every living thing. Visitors used to throw articles into his brick box in order to see him fight. When he was fed or watered, the first procedure for his groom was to ascertain where the enemy stood by thrusting a long pole in the stable door; he would then deposit the food, shut the door and vanish as quickly as possible.
Prof. Caspersen changed all this in a moment, as it were
. He ordered the stable door to be thrown open and introduced himself according to his system without delay. In a half-hour the indomitable Panic was ridden by a child, listened tranquilly to the beating of a drum in his ears and stood serene when an umbrella was flourished in his face. Gentle as a lamb, he followed his conqueror around the arena like a dog, stopping when Prof. Caspersen pointed his finger, lying down whentold and rising again when permission was given. All these things were done by Panic in a mild, good-humored sort of way, as if the wish to oblige his master was the sole ruling motive.
The speedy, easy and complete success of Prof. Caspersen in this remarkable case has given him the most flattering and exalted reputation in England. He is truly the “Boss Horse-Tamer of the World” as claimed!
“That’s awfully hard to believe,” Hank told his brother.
“I don’t believe it,” Bill said thoughtfully, “not the part about Finn walkin’ into the stall and changing Panic the way it says he did, anyway. I wonder what he’s going to do next.”
“Something pretty spectacular,” Hank prophesied. “You can bet your life on that.”
They learned the next day how right Hank was. According to the papers, Finn Caspersen had purchased Panic from Lord Oliver and was returning to the United States with him. He would exhibit him nightly at the largest arena in New York, Niblo’s Garden.
“Now we’ll see,” Bill Dailey said.
“I wonder,” his brother commented. “I wonder.”
Three weeks later Finn Caspersen arrived in New York with Panic. Bill did not go to the pier to witness Finn’s homecoming. Instead he bided his time and read about the thousands who were on hand to welcome the “Boss Horse-Tamer of the World.” It seemed that Finn didn’t want anyone to see Panic before hisopening at Niblo’s Garden. He had the notorious horse transported from ship to stable in a closed red wagon with his name printed in large letters on the side. However, Finn had no objection to displaying the gifts he’d received from his British admirers, including the Queen. They were carried in an open carriage for all New York to see.
Bill let another day go by before going to the Garden stables. He had no trouble finding Finn. He had only to look for the largest crowd. Finn was in the center, his stovepipe hat higher than all the others, his eyes reckless as ever, his voice singing self-praise as he told the group of his successful trip.
“… and Panic is seventeen hands of solid bone and muscle,” he boomed. “Never in your life will you see a horse like him, gentlemen. Come tonight and see our first show.” His eyes found Bill Dailey and disclosed neither shock nor surprise. “Now I have some work to do, gentlemen,” he said, dismissing the group with a friendly wave of his big hand.
When they were alone Bill Dailey said, “I see you’re still sellin’ the Secret.” There were boxes of the taming medicine piled high against the wall.
“Yep. Doing pretty well, too.” Finn grinned good-naturedly and put a hand on Bill’s shoulder.
PANIC TAMED
Before the Queen and Royal Family, Prof. Finn Caspersen yesterday subdued the notorious horse Panic, owned by Lord Oliver.
Panic had been vicious from the time he was a colt and was kept for breeding purposes at the Winchester Stud, forty-one miles from London, in a building erected especially for him. He was so vicious that he would scream when anyone approached and would attempt to smash his stall into lucifer matches. No one went near him, for he would destroy every living thing. Visitors used to throw articles into his brick box in order to see him fight. When he was fed or watered, the first procedure for his groom was to ascertain where the enemy stood by thrusting a long pole in the stable door; he would then deposit the food, shut the door and vanish as quickly as possible.
Prof. Caspersen changed all this in a moment, as it were
. He ordered the stable door to be thrown open and introduced himself according to his system without delay. In a half-hour the indomitable Panic was ridden by a child, listened tranquilly to the beating of a drum in his ears and stood serene when an umbrella was flourished in his face. Gentle as a lamb, he followed his conqueror around the arena like a dog, stopping when Prof. Caspersen pointed his finger, lying down whentold and rising again when permission was given. All these things were done by Panic in a mild, good-humored sort of way, as if the wish to oblige his master was the sole ruling motive.
The speedy, easy and complete success of Prof. Caspersen in this remarkable case has given him the most flattering and exalted reputation in England. He is truly the “Boss Horse-Tamer of the World” as claimed!
“That’s awfully hard to believe,” Hank told his brother.
“I don’t believe it,” Bill said thoughtfully, “not the part about Finn walkin’ into the stall and changing Panic the way it says he did, anyway. I wonder what he’s going to do next.”
“Something pretty spectacular,” Hank prophesied. “You can bet your life on that.”
They learned the next day how right Hank was. According to the papers, Finn Caspersen had purchased Panic from Lord Oliver and was returning to the United States with him. He would exhibit him nightly at the largest arena in New York, Niblo’s Garden.
“Now we’ll see,” Bill Dailey said.
“I wonder,” his brother commented. “I wonder.”
Three weeks later Finn Caspersen arrived in New York with Panic. Bill did not go to the pier to witness Finn’s homecoming. Instead he bided his time and read about the thousands who were on hand to welcome the “Boss Horse-Tamer of the World.” It seemed that Finn didn’t want anyone to see Panic before hisopening at Niblo’s Garden. He had the notorious horse transported from ship to stable in a closed red wagon with his name printed in large letters on the side. However, Finn had no objection to displaying the gifts he’d received from his British admirers, including the Queen. They were carried in an open carriage for all New York to see.
Bill let another day go by before going to the Garden stables. He had no trouble finding Finn. He had only to look for the largest crowd. Finn was in the center, his stovepipe hat higher than all the others, his eyes reckless as ever, his voice singing self-praise as he told the group of his successful trip.
“… and Panic is seventeen hands of solid bone and muscle,” he boomed. “Never in your life will you see a horse like him, gentlemen. Come tonight and see our first show.” His eyes found Bill Dailey and disclosed neither shock nor surprise. “Now I have some work to do, gentlemen,” he said, dismissing the group with a friendly wave of his big hand.
When they were alone Bill Dailey said, “I see you’re still sellin’ the Secret.” There were boxes of the taming medicine piled high against the wall.
“Yep. Doing pretty well, too.” Finn grinned good-naturedly and put a hand on Bill’s shoulder.
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