7 8 The Partridge Family 



a stop so sudden that in one bound she was at 

 speed, and at its finish she was rigid. 



" Oh, you little beauty ! " was my thought, as 

 Doc tersely inquired, "How's that? " 



From the boundary fence came Joss, cracking 

 on more sail every stride, for a fringe of weeds 

 hid Madge from her, and she seemed to fear she 

 had been outfooted. As she swung around the 

 weeds, her eye caught the white banner of a tail 

 marking her rival's position, and she propped so 

 suddenly that she almost toppled over. Again 

 Doc queried, " How's that ? " and again I said 

 nothing, but feasted my eyes on the faultless pic- 

 ture they made. 



We watched them for some minutes, and I 

 would have given a fat price for the scene on 

 canvas. The mass of glowing foliage in the 

 background, the smoky distance, the deep crim- 

 son of the sumachs against the grays of the lich- 

 ened fence, the bronzy briers and partly faded 

 small growths of the foreground, and the two 

 black-and-white forms, set and straining with con- 

 trolled excitement and intensity of purpose, might 

 well have formed an illustration of the best there 

 is in American sport. 



" Let's flush," said Doc, and we moved forward. 

 Then it seemed as though a shell exploded in the 

 weeds, and a storm of feathered missiles went 

 whizzing toward the wood. The two guns 



