294 The Sporting Dog 



south of Long Island. I would not call that man 

 much of a handler, or much of an amateur with 

 dogs, for that matter, who could not adjust range 

 and speed as he pleased. When you want range 

 you " want it bad," and when you want close work 

 you can get it ; so it's wise to have the speed and 

 range available. The quail we have with us 

 always. The snipe and woodcock may show up 

 and may not. 



So, when picking our Derby entries, we are 

 picking shooting dogs which will beat our friends' 

 shooting dogs in finding and working game. 



The wise old handler and I went out to say the 

 final word about five young dogs averaging a year 

 and a half in age. In past seasons we had en- 

 countered some fair luck; some unpleasantly bad. 

 This time we were after a sure thing, and our 

 twain wisdom was enough to tell us that from the 

 sure thing we must deduct twenty per cent for 

 our optimism and twenty more for the difference 

 between the best private test and the subsequent 

 public performances. Ask any piano player or 

 opera singer about that last twenty per cent, and 

 he will say that it is not far from the safe rule. 

 Somehow, everything seems to dwindle between 

 the last evidence of private capacity and the first 

 time the performer measures up against the big 

 world. 



We had Dan, a rangy, ragged, but light-going 



