The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1884-08-24
Dog and Gun.

Put away that gun, young man. II
is August. and you can't shoe
prairie-chickens until next Sepsem
Der.
P. sly ou can't shoot them then
unless you can shoe. "a great dea
straighter than l can. The game.
laws OF Iowa allow man to shoot
only twenty-five birds in one day.
Las. season I was cut fys days 7
have now suits pending aeaints tina
State for 124 prairie hens due me. az
my quota under tia Law. l found
one hen that somebody b 4d sho, and
left over the year before. J gave the
State credit Tor that 10 vi, although I
didn't have to. But l DON'T like 10
be loo hard on the State.
used TO be very fond OF shooting.
| had a pair OF high-linbed Marie
Antoine!te boots, and a shooting
jacket as full OF pockets as dog is OF
other things, and an Eiizabethan belt
auted for cartridges. And dog. Yes;
l owned dog. and the dog owned
the lunch basket. He was and ia. for
ne still lives, thoroughbred; Cor.
dian setter OF the DEEPEST dye.
You guess knot?
But he was. He was Gordian
setter, because that's the way he
always united the rope that bound
him to the KENNELS beetling edge.
He soon lost all respect for me after
he had been out in tns field with me
two or three times. l always enjoy
shooting with an empty gun, quite as
rauch as with one that is loaded, and
/ manage t. bring down about as
much game. When L wrote up
thrilling accounts OF my days shoot
ing for the local paper, the narratives
always read just like similar nara
.ives of fishers and hunters in Ram
rod and Musketand Brush and Brooks
and the other sporting papers. 1
"killed" just as big trout and bagged
as many brace OF pheasants, and
talked about the same way; took q
column and a half to describe the
shooting OF snipe no better than a
sparrow.
"But you always supposed these
fishing and hunting narratives in the
sporting papers were true?"
So did I, my son, so did I, until
began to shoot, Those letters are
electrotypad early in the season, and
mortised for names OF places. I've
written yards OF them in summer,
when there was no shooting. You
save lots of time by writing them
then.
Well, this Gordian setter
Wnst? Oh, the managing editor?
Well. what is it? How2 The fore
man doesn't want any m ire OF that
do Well, I should hope he didn't.
Who does want "any more Of that
dog" | should like to know? I hope
it isn't an Indian barbecue. That
dog needs muzzling? suppose he
does; this is the time OF the year for
II; French muslin. | reckon. Idon'i
know q sheep-d7g from a ra.tsfi
There you're of; this is a sheep dog
Pm talking about; fleece was the
most valuable thing about him; il
thatisn a sheep Hey? How longi
Land, I don't know; ne could howl
long enough to make the night tired,
and he used-What? Well, that's
what you said anyhow. No room foi
the dog? Why. man, he didn't need
any room; slept under the house,
mostly: he didn't care for-Heyi
Choke off on that dog? Weils that's
what Pm trying to lead up to, a joke
on that dog. That's the point OF the
ta-Reyl Mark it dead? Why,
course, if you say so. But he's alive
now, thirteen years old, and the
smnrtest dog in the State of-Heyi
Won't have il? Hey? Good-by.
Now. that's just the way il is al
this office. Man starts out on dog
story that would make four columns
if you'd let 1t take the tail free, and
he's rung up and shut OF before be
gets to the dogs name. Bet dollar
the manager shoots and doesn't wanI
u fellow to give away professional
sporting secrets. I'll drag that dor
in here yet if / have to bring him il
sausage-maohine.- Robert ]. Bur
dette, 10 Brooklyn Eagle.