Animals: Turtle Derby

Wheeonk, blared the bugle of Dr. Walter Baker. The band struck up the “Sidewalks of New York.” Cornell-Rockefeller Hospitals’ entry, Bronx Cheer (by Simple Simon, out of the East River), was coming into the ring. The white-trousered, white-skirted crowd pressed closer, gabbled excitedly. Was it true that the Accident Ward had given the Obstetrical Clinic’s Lucky Miss (by Chance, out of Wedlock) a shot of morphine? The band struck up “La Marseillaise.” Pourquoi Pas, entered by a young French nurse, was coming in. Over by the administration building two doctor-bookies gathered in the last bets. Hurrcck, blared Dr. Baker’s bugle. In Baltimore last week Johns Hopkins Hospital’s annual “Quartan Tartle Darby” was ready to begin.

A pistol cracked. Up went the wire around the turtles in the ring’s centre. The Dog House’s Hot Dog (by Experiment, out of Mongrel) pulled in its neck and went to sleep. The Medical Clinic’s Gluteus Maximus (by Cracked Pot, out of Whack) plunged madly toward the finish line, saw a bug, lost interest. Neck up and bobbing. Maple Leaf I (Buy British, out of God’s Country) plugged steadily toward the 38-ft. circle’s rim. A breeze whipped the Union Jack stuck on its back as it stepped across the line for a new record, 38 <SUB>2/5</SUB> sec.