Princeton, The Powdered Sugar Horse

"Only a fool would say the horse does not belong at the beach," wrote a young Elliott Callahan in 1885. "The British, in their usual parsimonious fashion, insist that the beach is the province of the donkey, but the fact of the matter is that as far as strength, determination, and grit are concerned: one can do no wrong by bringing the horse—America's workhorse, if you will—down to the waterfront."

By 1897, horses were a regular sight on the Bluff City boardwalk. Carriah and Letitia dragged the boat launch down to the water and back. Maribeth stood patiently by the bicycle rental stand and blinked placidly at passing cyclists. The less about Big Arthur that is committed to the historical record, the better.

The most beloved of these animals, however, was Princeton: the mild mannered Clydesdale who pulled the Princeton Powdered Sugar wagon. Though whether he was named after the company or vice versa is a matter of some dispute, his sweet temper and calm demeanour is not. In the summer of that same year, Callahan—still clearly an equestrian enthusiast—catalogued this song in commemoration of the animal.