TWO SPORTS; OR, OUT FOR A LARK. Zor 
and I dink der dugs half you yourselluf these many 
dimes seen already. Dake off your hat, your hair is 
ret, yoost der right color, und dugs vill dake you for a 
big shesnud, or a punch of veeds growing in der vater.”’ 
They both saw the necessity of doing something, or 
they would get no shooting, and Jim said, * Come, Hans, 
we must get out of this. Let’s leave the boat, go away 
from it, and hide in the grass, and what we then kill 
we can get.” 
So they went, selected a point and waited. Hans 
took off his hat, bowed politely to Jim, and laid the 
hat on the ground. Jim, not to be outdone in polite- 
ness, returned the compliment. The dog, not to be an 
unobserved observer, turned around twice, and laid 
down on both hats, sinking them into the soft mud. 
Ducks were moving quite freely, and had these hunters 
had their wits about them, they would have seen ducks 
in great numbers, pitching into the swamp about a mile 
from them: but they gave no thought to this, and only 
expected what chance directed to them. They had 
iired a good many times, but killed none. They blamed 
the guns, the ammunition,—everything but themselves : 
but now, both firing into a large flock, one was winged, 
tipped and fell about 80 yards off in the grass. The 
dog saw it, and away he went for it, urged by Jim’s 
voice. Fle was gone some time; the hunters thought 
it strange he did not return, and each moment expected 
him to emerge from the tall grass with the bird. He 
came, but without the duck. “The bird was winged,” 
said Jim, “ he couldn’t strike its trail, and couldn’t find 
it.” Perhaps not, but his sheepish look and downcast 
eye showed he had found something. This was cor- 
roborated by the few small feathers on his lips, which 
