"Ole Alberta was a grand mare," he said presently. "I see her get away last in the Crescent City Derby 'n' be ten len'ths back at the quarter. But she come from nowhere, collared ole Stonebrook in the stretch, looked him in the eye the last eighth 'n' outgamed him at the wire. She has a hundred 'n' thirty pounds up at that.
"Ole Alberta dies when she has this filly," he went on after a pause. "Judge Dillon, over near Lexington, owned her, 'n' Mrs. Dillon brings the filly up on the bottle. See how nice that filly stands? Handled every day since she was foaled, 'n' never had a cross word. Sugar every mawnin' from Mrs. Dillon. That's way to learn a colt somethin'."
At last the colts were formed into a disorderly line.
"Now, boys, you've got a chance--come on with 'em!" bellowed the starter. "Not too fast . . ." he cautioned. "Awl-r-r-right . . . let 'em go-o-!"
They were off like rockets as the barrier shot up, and the bay filly flashed into the lead. Her slender legs seemed to bear her as though on the breast of the wind. She did not run--she floated--yet the gap between herself and her struggling schoolmates grew ever wider.
"Oh, you Alberta!" breathed Blister. Then his tone changed. "Most of these wise Ikes talk about the sire of a colt, but I'll take a good dam all the time for mine!"
Standing on my chair, I watched the colts finish their run, the filly well in front.
"She's a wonder!" I exclaimed, resuming my seat.
"She acts like she'll deliver the goods," Blister conceded. "She's got a lot of step, but it takes more'n that to make a race hoss. We'll know about _her_ when she goes the route, carryin' weight against class."
The colts were now being led to their quarters by stable-boys. When the boy leading the winner passed, he threw us a triumphant smile.
"Some baby," Blister admitted. Then with disgust: "They've hung a fierce name on her though."
"What _is_ her name?" I asked, when the pair had gone by.
"They call her Trez Jolly," said Blister. "Now, ain't that a hell of a name? I like a name you can kind-a warble." He had pronounced the French phrase exactly as it is written, with an effort at the "J" following the sibilant.
"Très Jolie--it's French," I explained, and gave him the meaning and proper pronunciation.