134 The Grouse Family 



muscles wirelike from wholesome toil, he stands 

 there as if carved from yon vein of snowy marble 

 gashing the distant cliff. 



Yards rearward, at the right angle of the base 

 of the wedge, is another and entirely different 

 figure. The coat of a workmanlike brown, the 

 intent, half-crouching pose, graceful in many 

 curves, the poise of the perfect head, the clean- 

 cut profile, expressive eyes, lips parted in mute 

 expectancy, complete as perfect a picture of — 



A bench winner, did you say ? 



Man ! what are you talking about } She's 

 worthy of the bench all right — she'd adorn it 

 too ! but did I really describe her according to 

 the pointer standard. Ye gods ! well, anyhow, 

 there's no sense keeping her standing there. 



The remaining figure looks like a tramp in its 

 dingy garb, but it feels like a king for the moment 

 at least. The apple of its eye is the grand white 

 dog ; the crab-apple of its other eye is the crouch- 

 ing female to the right ; while the glory-about-to- 

 be to both eyes is yet hidden in the stubble. 



Boo-oo-oo-m ! A big bird roars up, and the man 

 starts violently and rocks backward two inches out 

 of plumb, for instead of the expected "chicken" 

 he sees a fantail with a broad velvet band which 

 is unmistakable. The way that gun remembers 

 and gets into action is a marvel to see, and the 

 bird goes down, despite its speed, not thirty-five 

 yards away. 



