io8 How I Became a Sportsman. 



rough Welsh greyhounds, a goodish-looking 

 blue ticked setter, and our two spaniels. I 

 had forgotten to say that directly we got 

 there a small, nondescript-looking little dog 

 came into the room and at once made friends 

 with us, and never left us all the time we 

 were there. It was nearly white, covered with 

 small crisp curls, in shape and appearance 

 like a very small hound, in fact, it was a 

 cross between a French poodle and a French 

 basset hound — a rum-looking object to go out 

 shooting with, but I never saw a better little 

 dog ; his nose was wonderful, and he was a 

 most indefatigable worker ; but he used to get 

 so thoroughly done up that we had frequently 

 to carry him home, where, after being fed, he 

 would curl up on the sofa and remain there all 

 night ; but he was ready again the next morn- 

 ing. There is nothing like fire for a spaniel, 

 or indeed any dog, after a hard day's work in 

 the wet. I have always adopted this plan with 

 my spaniels, and have found the benefit of it. 



It is time I returned to the front of the 

 house. I protested strongly against taking the 

 greyhounds, it looked so unsportsmanlike and 

 pot-hunting. Whoever heard of guns and 



