220 The Grouse Family 



the world has ever known. And why not? 

 Yonder, like boundless wastes, lie the gray fields 

 fit only to muflie the drumming hoof ; there are 

 the grouse, huge birds, unworthy of a skilful gun, 

 but prime quarry for the dashing hawk. There 

 too are the lank, half-spectral hares, fleet and 

 erratic, should new quarry be desired, and close 

 by are the steeds, swift and stout of heart, many 

 of them full of the hot blood of the eastern 

 plain. The hawks swing free about butte, and 

 bluff, and stern-faced cliff, — but where the fal- 

 coner? Ay! the falconer? The wizard of 

 America arises, and in the stirring of his robe, 

 is heard the rustle of countless greenbacks, the 

 clink of metal, yellow and white. " /will produce 

 the falconer ! Let but the social leaders nod — 

 let one dozen of a certain set say the word, and 

 I not only can, but I'll have to produce not one, 

 but five hundred falconers." 



It would be well worth the trying, for 'tis indeed 

 a noble sport. Perchance, a few years hence 

 may bring hawking fixtures where now there are 

 coursing fixtures. 



