SNIPE-SHOOTING. 117 
stern, and drew on in a straight line. “Look out, there 
is a bird there !” 
Scaipe ! scaipe! close under the dog’s nose he started, 
and as he started, but not till then, Bob stood stiff. The 
bird fell to Charley’s shot, was recovered, bagged, 
and on they went, rejoicing. Five shots and no bird 
missed. 
The next rise was to Archer. Two snap shots, right 
and left, birds which rose wide of the dogs. The first, 
fell clean killed—the second, just grazed by the shot, 
skated off, and pitched three hundred yards off. The 
dead bird, Dinks pointed dead, in fine style, Bob back- 
ing him. And twenty minutes after, the order was re- 
versed, Bob finding the hurt bird, beautifully, and Dinks 
backing eighty yards off. That bird took another shot, 
but he came to bag. After that, all day long, the green 
dogs worked like old hands, on their new game; before 
afternoon, they were racing heads up and sterns down, 
in their old fashion, and yet neither of them flushed 
another bird all that day. Despite wind and weather, 
the friends filled a heavy bag, and as they sipped their 
peach brandy, by the fireside in the evening, Charley 
said, laughing :—“ Well, Harry Archer, cowte gwil coute, 
J will never doubt again, that well-broke dogs can be 
made to point anything, or—nothing!” 
“ And, is Bob a brute, now ?” 
“ Dinks is the beauty, but Bob is the best; and that is 
