MEMORIES OF GLENAUGH. 8 1 



open country and on heath, where you never 

 could tell whether snipe, cock, a hare, or par- 

 tridge might be about or not. Sam had his 

 own way of approaching each. His only vice 

 was a strong taste for hare. I had to correct 

 him for this, and it was pitiable afterwards to 

 observe his wistful look at a retreating puss, 

 and the convulsive action of his jaws, as if he 

 were turning over an imaginary piece in his 

 mouth. His instinct for detecting jack snipe 

 was exceedingly troublesome. He far pre- 

 ferred drawing on a jack to .finding the hottest 

 covey of partridge, and would often lead me 

 away from larger game in order to poke out 

 his enemy, and he was never satisfied until the 

 jack was bagged. I have seen him positively 

 give a caper (which I ascribe to sheer delight) 

 when, after missing the little beggar a couple 

 of shots, I have brought him down with a 

 third. 



Madge was another eccentric pointer. 

 Madge was a lady, but a lady with a deuce 

 of a temper, and (a most unusual thing with 

 such dogs) a perfect glutton to fight. Woe 

 betide the terrier who barked from the farm- 



