Life, 1913-08-07 · page 35 of 40
Life — August 7, 1913 — page 35: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a short story titled "Why Timothy Rode the Black Horse," not political satire. The narrative concerns a boy who finds a stray, three-legged dog and befriends it despite being unable to attend a horse-training exhibition. Timothy loses his admission money but encounters the dog's owner—revealed to be "The Greatest Horse-Trainer on Earth"—who rewards the boy's kindness by inviting him to the next day's show, where Timothy rides the trainer's black horse. The story exemplifies early 20th-century sentimental fiction emphasizing moral virtue: compassion toward animals and honesty are rewarded. The tale was credited as a "prize story" from *The National Humane Review*, reflecting the era's focus on animal welfare advocacy. The page also features period advertisements (Lloyd's shaving soap, Budweiser beer) typical of *Life* magazine's commercial content. No political figures or satire appears on this page.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
pedby Bes oa "Shorewthect Soap Give your face a shave treat! Use LLOYD'S Leaves the silky feel on your face after shaving. Apply jightly over the face! Then shave! You will realize what a pleasure shaving ean be. Sample Tube Sent for 17¢ PARK & TILFORD F.R. ARNOLD & CO. 22S Filth Ave., NewYork | 7 West 224 St., NewYork BR Why Timothy Rode the Black Horse “The Greatest Horse-Trainer on Earth” was to give an exhibition in Bay Harbor that afternoon and Timothy was bound for the show. As he settled himself in the trolley car he noticed a small black-and-white dog crouching between two seats oppo- site him. He whistled to the little fel- low, and he hopped towards him on three legs. Just then the conductor came along. “Who owns this dog?” he asked rather crossly. “He's been on the car ever since we left Westhaven, but if he doesn’t belong to anybody here, we'll drop him and let him run home.” “But he’s lame, don’t you see?" ob- jected Timothy, “and he’s lost his collar and his tag, too, and maybe he'd be taken up or something. I'll keep him with r:c and take him back to-night.” So Timothy and his new charge jour- neyed on together. But when the boy, with the dog in his arms, offered his admission ticket at the entrance to the exhibition, the gatekeeper shook his head. “No dogs allowed inside the tent, sonny,” he said. “Better leave yours outside with somebody. Step along!” With a big lump in his throat Timothy struggled back to the street. “ Well, I won't leave you, Buster,” he murmured to the dog. “ We'd better go right home.” Then his heart gave a thump. He found that he had lost his money in the crowd. “We've got to foot it, pup,” he said sadly. “I'll carry you as much as I can.” But the day was warm and West- haven was ten dusty miles away, so when Timothy had covered about one-third of the distance he stole into a barn to rest, and after a while he fell fast asleep. It was late afternoon when he was ready to take the road again, but it was cooler and he trudged along for another mile. Then a motor car whizzed by him, but it quickly turned and came back to him. It was driven by a man with a strong, Pleasant face, and at sight of him the dog gave a sharp, glad bark and limped towards him. “Hullo, Spot!" cried the stranger. “I lost track of him in Westhaven this oe EUX-E-SIS morning,” he explained to Timothy, he seems to have met with mishaps later, My little girl would be miserable if I went home without him.” Timothy told his story of his day with the wanderer. The stranger shook him warmly by the hand “You are a boy after my own heart,” he smiled. “I'll see that you follow the show to Norton to-morrow.” The next afternoon a boy in a front scat in a big tent watched breathlessly the performances of a score of horses guided by a man with a strong, pleasant face, who was mounted on a splendid black steed. At the close of the enter- tainment the big horse cantered towards the boy, and the next moment Timothy was riding around the ring with the “Greatest Horse-Trainer on Earth.” By Martha Burr Banks (prize story). in The National Humane Review. To buy books only because they were published by an eminent printer is much as if a man should buy clothing that did not fit him, only because made by some famous tailor.—Pope. s MM MM eT H 'HE table-beer of America—a mild home-beverage that you can serve with confidence because your home- quality standards are maintained in the making. _Budweiser Made in a Gigantic Plant 6,000 le are empk 130d the main tant of Susor-Busch = 1.300 more in ‘There are 110. te one covering 142 ore 7 jocks, ecres—more than 70 city bi The plant is a model of order, efficiency, clean- liness and thrift. To go through Budweiser’s home, as hundreds do daily, is the best Sar sorealioe Budweiser’s quality. Anheuser-Busch, St. Louis