Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1917-03-01

there grew up between the true
sportsman and the true hunting dog
real friendship that endured and grew
with the years. Each would fight for
the other. Love me love my dog" was
more than condition. 1t was fact,
an axiom, a verify.
The good old bird dog of that time
was the highest type of the sporting
sneakins about him He met an who
came with friendliness but not less
with caution II they were strangers.
He inclined to many acquaintance
but few friends. His judgments were
accurate, He placed and despised q
| brute knew gentleman by instinct.
| Your dog placed your new hunting
companion as certainly as yourself
and il there is any place where a man
may be estimated as to general charac-
ter quickly it is in the stubbles Of a
dewey September morn before a close
lying covey. II he Is q hog or lacks
the instincts OF gentleman he can
| scarcely fail to expose it there on the
covey Of the day. If he wasn't right
the dogs knew 1t. If he couldn't shoot
he got a glance OF contempt from the
'old dog as expressive as tho 1t had
been rendered in English words.
There has never been nor will ever
be sport grander than bird shooting
on the wide stubble fields and in the
swales and upland prairie grasses.
There IS no setting for sport finer than
the golden eXpanse OF the new cut
field hordered with the green Of corn
fields or prairie grasses, the sweep Of
the horizon, breath of the morning
breeze, the busy dogs that speed quar-
tering from side to side, the sudden
check and cautious approach of the
dog who has found EN-" the staunch
back of his field mate far beyond the
SSSi'L h'AS IiiC itosll Vi VIC ipS
that moves on TO settle into frozen
point with salvering lip and eyes rolled
back 10 the guns all hold cfarIl1
for the sportsman strong as the in
stinct and impulse that holds the dog
true to his point All. my son, my son.
You shall perhaps never see it so and
feel it thus. never watch with delight
the sureness and science with which
old Sport worked the outside Of the
scattered covey that his master might
have as many single shots as pos
sible before il rose in a bunch. the GER
tainty of his knowledge and under
standing, the accuracy with which he
located every bird that fell to either
gun. his caution against rufflng or
managing the dead bird as he retrieved
it and the companionship and conf
approval when his task was accom-
plished, and the happy firt Of hts tail
and quarters as he turned away TO
seek another covey.
We carelessly killed the birds that
We should have preserved. We knew
no better. We imagined that I'VE
shall always have chickens here" But
we haven't And In abohshing the
birds We sent into oblivion the good
bird dog whose joyful task II was to
bring to gun to the birds. When we
destroyed him we lost more than the
birds for we lost friend and COM
panion, a good sport from the tip of
his splendid nose to the last feather
AT his stern \ high bred, high class
bird dog was the samest and most in
telligent Of the animal friends and
companions men make. 4 hot blooded
thoroughbred race horse will run with
a broken leg and stay with the last
breath until he breaks his heart. a
steel game cock will lift his head and
crow with his last gasp but none Of
them was gamer or more courageous
than the best bird dogs and none OF
them approximates the intelligence and
almost human sense with which he
used his courage.
1t would be unorthodox perhaps to
hope that Don and Sport and all those
old dogs Of a good old day still exist
in some far off haven where their in
telligence and faithfulness have found
the reward Of merit; sometimes it is
hard to hold utter and unquestioning
faith that some men--but that is all
another story. The nub Of it Is that if
any lower animal deserved immor-
tally it was the good old bird dog of a
day that has passed