Harper's Round Table, December 3, 1895

by Various

But it was very different in the mornings and afternoons, when the attendance was much smaller, when the young folks were out, in full force, and when the interest of each was centred gleefully or excitedly on the events in the ring. Here you would see some keen young sportsman of thirteen recounting earnestly to his girl friends, younger than himself, why such a horse won, what his "points" were, and what his "father said." Probably in ten years he will be "jumping fences" with his hunter in the evening events at the show, and talking to those same girls, then women-grown. Over there a nurse would have in tow two youngsters whose father has a big stock-farm. Hardly an event came along on the programme but one of "papa's horses" was entered, and as they breathlessly watched these horses shown "through their paces," their comments more than audible, the children's excitement reached fever-heat when the blue ribbon, the sign of the first prize, was given to one of their father's entries. You would see there at the Garden in the afternoon boys and girls just out from school chattering freely their comments, and nurses with little tots who scarce could gurgle out a pleased "Horsy!" Once in a while, at the eastern end of the building, you might observe, shyly peeping in at the moving horses and the gayly dressed children, more poorly clad young people, friends of some of the grooms, who had smuggled them in at the back door for a "look at the show." Though the hackney, the hunter, the tandem, and other competitions were, of course, watched closely by the young people, the keenest and most gleeful interest was shown in the ponies, and particularly in the little Shetland horses, of which there were more exhibited this year than ever before.

Even the big hunters and coach horses felt a trifle jealous in their stalls down-stairs, for the children came from the main floor, and passed the big fellows by to feast their eyes on the dear little ponies and cunning Shetland horses. Some of the ponies were stalled at the east and north sides of the basement, among their larger brothers, and how provoked the latter would look, how angrily they would twitch about, when a bevy of youngsters devoted their pleased attention to a little brown pony in a neighboring stall, patting him and caressing him! You could almost hear the great beast say: "What, that insignificant little chap? All your attention for him, only one-quarter my size and one-tenth my strength?"

But it was towards the western wing of the basement that the daytime patter of the young people's footsteps was loudest. For here all the Shetlands and many of the ponies were daintily and comfortably housed, here were all the groom-servants they could wish to attend to their wants, and so many callers waiting to be introduced that you might have thought each a young débutante at her coming-out tea. There were gray and black, brown and white ponies, their silky skin and cropped manes contrasting strangely with the shaggy hair and long tumbled tresses of their Shetland neighbors. They were haughtier, too, and bore their petting, of which there was much, more proudly.

The Shetlands were the democrats of the establishment. No fine feathers and coxcomb airs for them! No clipping of the tails to put them in fashion! But there they were, as rough and as long-haired, as fearsome and as kind, as were their ancestors fifty years ago in the bleak Shetland Islands to the northeast of Scotland. Very eager for attention were they all, and every now and then, after a particularly large number of pattings and caressings had been showered on them, they would half turn their heads and whinny out thankful recognitions. Happiest of all were several Shetland mothers with their wee colts beside them, and as the exclamations of delight over the tiny little horse came to each mother's ear, she would turn, and as much as say to her young audience, "Ah! was there ever such a child as mine?"

Shetland ponies, you must know, never really existed in the United States till about thirty years ago, when two small herds were brought over from their native isles to Beliot, Wisconsin, and Allegheny City, Pennsylvania. Since that time they have so increased that there are to-day over two thousand ponies regularly registered in an association which is composed of all the leading owners of Shetland stock farms in the United States. The largest of these is the ranch owned by Mr. J. Murray Hoag, at Maquoketa, Iowa. Here between three and four hundred ponies have their grazing-ground and stalls, and from here they are shipped, when sold, to the various cities, East and West. They are bought almost exclusively for children in the larger cities, and the average price paid for a pony is about $200, somewhat more than an ordinary horse brings. The average height of a Shetland pony is forty inches. Some of them when born are very tiny, and one little Shetland baby, the smallest ever known, weighed but sixteen pounds, when a day old. And a few days afterwards one of the girls on the farm carried him around as she would a puppy. To the little Shetland baby the girl of fifteen probably appeared as one of the giant women did to Gulliver when he was on his travels.

The temporary home of the Shetland horses and the other ponies, down in the basement of the Madison Square Garden, was filled with excitement before each of the events in which some were to take part. The unfastening of chains, the rushing around of grooms, and the mild beat of small hoofs out of the door told the rest that some of their large household were on their way to the ring upstairs to compete for the prize. And there were very few that did not take part in more than one of the many competitions for ordinary ponies and for Shetlands. There were prizes for ponies of various sizes, led by grooms and driven to carts; for colts, and for older ponies; and for pairs of ponies driven to Park traps.

But best of all, from the children's as well as the grown people's stand-point, was the competition for the best Shetland herd of five or six, including mothers and any little colts they might have. What a bustle there was down-stairs as the different ponies, composing the three herds trying for the competition, were let out of their stalls and led or driven up the inclined board walk to the arena entrance! But what a time it was for three baby Shetlands, scarcely three or four months old, who accompanied their mothers upstairs! Patter, patter, patter went the hoofs up the boards. Frightened and shy, the little fellows kept close to their mothers, and almost hid themselves as they came to the entrance of the ring.

Then, as their fathers and mothers trooped in as sedately as Shetland horses ever can walk, their heads proudly arched, and their manes waving gracefully, on trial for the prize which was to go to the best family of the three, a funny thing happened. The tiny Shetland colts, who had been cooped up with their mothers in a narrow stall all the week, began to open their eyes with excitement. They saw a huge tan-bark ring in a great building, plenty of air and space for a romp.

Scat! As if shot from a bow each little woolly horse scampered away, past its father and mother, who, as they were judged, vainly endeavored to stop their scapegoat children by a reproving neigh. Faster and faster flashed the hoofs around the arena. It was a series of races in which each began when he wished and stopped when he chose. Now they would roll over in the delicious tan-bark and spoil their fuzzy coats, with a dim consciousness, perhaps, that maternal scoldings would follow their actions. Not a whit did they care as they capered gleefully to forget a week's confinement. The spirit of their hill-climbing, wild, fearless Scotch ancestors was in them.

The audience, which had clapped mildly before this, began to applaud enthusiastically and to cheer at the gambols of the Shetland infants. Two of them, somewhat scared, went to their respective families. But the third, a mass of black furry deviltry, only played and scampered the harder, and dually capped the climax by a leap on the platform where the judges themselves were. Shout after shout greeted this feat, and then he too became scared and ran straight to his mother. She, however, did not rebuke him, but only said, as he nestled timidly beside her, "Never mind this time, my son, for our family has won the prize!"