It was Derby Day at Churchill Downs this afternoon, and the enclosure was crowded as it had not been for a long time previous. It was an ideal racing day, the hard rain of the morning thoroughly laying the dust. The rain made the track just a bit slow but this was more than compensated in the absence of dust. The good people of the Falls City were hungry to see a race and they turned out in large numbers, irrespective of color, class or circumstances. A free field made it possible for those who were unable to pay the price of admission to see the racing at little or no cost at all. There was an immense crowd in the infield, and the fence from the head of the stretch to the clubhouse turn was lined with a dense mass of humanity, each moity of which was struggling to either gain or maintain his position.

The Derby of 1894 had not about it quite that glamour and fascination that has characterized several former contests for this event perhaps because there was no horse in it of particularly high-class, and of such individual prominence as to attract and absorb public attention for weeks prior to the race, which reaches the public thru the medium of the press. Horses are something like men in that some of them possess a kind of magnetism that draws around them a coterie of admirers, who become as much infatuated with him as does the most ardent admirers of a political leader. Such a horse was Proctor Knott, and never before nor since in the West, was as much written about and as much attention paid to a horse as was to him. The press teemed with articles about him from day to day, for weeks prior to the Derby of 1889, so that when the great day rolled around thousands of people went to the track impelled by an uncontrollable curiosity to see the horse that had been written so much about. Well, every one who went on that day, saw a race, the like of which they never saw before nor since. The idol was dethroned but even in defeat he was greater in the hearts of his admirers than was the winner.

But the Derby this afternoon presented none of the attractive features of that great event won by Spokane. The horses trained here and, of course, around whom most of the local interest would naturally attach had not shown any trials upon which to place much faith in their prowess, with the possible exception of Pearl Song. The others had been tried and found wanting, and, as a matter of course, the public could not make an idol of common clay. Along up the line from Memphis to this meeting came a horse that had run races at three other tracks with considerable success, and whose muscles had been hardened for a journey of a mile and a half by actual racing, which is admitted by all trainers to be a better conditioner than private work. This horse is Chant, and he won the Kentucky Derby this afternoon just as he pleased. There may have been horses in it that will be better than he later on, but there was nothing in it that was within ten pounds of him to-day. There was nothing in it that could make the son of Falsetto stretch his neck and think seriously that he was running for a stake or merely out for an exercise gallop. The time was exceedingly slow, and this was partially due to the soft condition of the track, but more particularly due to the fact that there was nothing in the race that could make Chant run any faster. Chant was a strong favorite in the betting, his odds being uniformly 1 to 2, but after viewing his easy victory one was impressed with the idea that those odds were really quite liberal. It was only a matter of loaning one’s money to the bookmakers for a little while, to be taken back shortly with fifty per cent interest. There were five starters in the Derby all with the same impost—122 pounds. Goodale was on Chant; R. Williams on Pearl Song; Overton on Sigurd; Ray on Al Boyer, and Irving on Tom Elmore. As remarked before Chant was a strong favorite, and Pearl Song was second choice. Not a few backed the latter to win, and as is always the case in every race, straggling bets went on each of the others to win, acting under the idea, it is supposed, that lightning is likely to strike anywhere. While Starter Pettingill had considerable trouble with each of his other fields, it was quite an easy matter to send off five well trained horses on a line, hence, with little delay, the flag flashed on the Kentucky Derby of 1894. Sigurd was the first to show in front, and he held that position for a quarter of a mile, but apparently on probation, for when he pleased Chant passed him and he pleased to do it coming down the stretch the first time. Passing under the wire at the completion of the first half mile, Chant was leading by two lengths, and to the practical eye of the turfmen it could be seen then that he had his field beat, as he was running very easily, with his mouth pulled open, while the others were struggling behind him in vain efforts to catch up. To make a long story short, it is only necessary to say that Chant led all the way and won simply without an effort. It was about as badly a strung out field as was ever seen. Pearl Song came in ten lengths behind Chant; Sigurd was about the same distance behind Pearl Song; Al Boyer was twenty lengths or more in the rear of Sigurd, and Tom Elmore was beaten off and his jockey pulled him up half way down the stretch.

May 15, 1894,—The Kentucky Derby, for three-year old colts and fillies (foals of 1891) $100 entrance, half forfeit: $10 if declared on or before May 1, 1893; $20 if declared on or before May 1, 1894; money to accompany declaration; with $2,500 added, of which $300 to second and $150 to third. One mile and a half. Closed with 55 nominations.

Time—2:41. Won by six lengths, fifteen lengths between second and third. Value to winner $4,020.