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THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN'S JOUR 



Terms. Four Dollan a Tear 



Ten Cent* a Copy. 

 6 month*, 82; 3 months, 5 



:.} 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, APRIL 3, 1879. 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and. Gun, 

 LOVE OR MONEY. 



Cupid and cupidity, 

 Stupid and stupidity ; 

 Many a time I've turned a rhyme 

 Lacking In lucidity. 



Some declare that lovs is blind ; 



Lucre proves a blind to many ; 

 Only men of stupid mind 



Marry wives that have not any. 



Ring the changes as you may, 



You'll not find for love or money, 

 Pelf that will not fly away, 



Love that's always sweut as honey. 



Cupid is no friend of mind : 



" Siller's" bat a transient ill ; 

 Even where the two combine 



They will let you hunger still. 



Give me friendship pure as dew, 



Free as breezes, blithe us birds, 

 Finding its expression true 



In the coin of loving words : 



A.M. V., Jersey. 

 For Forest and Stream and Bod and.Gim. 

 WHEN BLUEBIRDS SING. 



When bluebirds sing, 

 And from old winter's grizzled form 

 The white burnous of silence falls ; 

 When low, sweet notes of melody 

 First ripple through the voiceless wood 

 In wooinga to swift-winging.mates, 

 Fair Columbine in witching drea?, 

 Of bursting buds and spangled dew, 

 Trips out with smiling, wond'ring face- 

 Then is it spring ! 



Wkdwobth Wadsworth. 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and G-an. 



JUST on the eve of start iug on a visit to my former home 

 for the holidays, I received a letter from Mallory R. 

 (living near the next station), saying he would expect me to 

 spend a few days' shooting with him before my return — to 

 be sure and come "equipped as the law directs, with dog, 

 gun, etc." He had one dog good as any ; but, as he had ar- 

 ranged a match hunt for my benefit, we would need another. 

 He said, furthermore, that I must notify him on arrival at 

 T— what day he should expect me. 



How, as the shooting is equal to the very best to be had 

 anywhere, to say nothing of the social enjoyment in store 

 for all who are so fortunate as to visit Mt. Ida, I lost no 

 time in making up my mind what to do. I decided to go, 

 and proceeded forthwith to pack my tiunk accordingly. 

 This was Christmas eve, and the whole tow a was alive with 

 people of every conceivable type shopping for the holidays. 

 As it was an hour before the train was due, I started on a 

 stroll. Only a little way down Broad street I was over- 

 hauled by a friend of the adjustable type with " I say, Doc- 

 tor, hold on there ! Is that a good dog you have ?" 



"Yes," said I. 



"Well trained ?" queried my friend. 



"Yes." 



"Don't you want to go hunting ?" he persisted. 



" No I " I replied curtly, for I saw plainly that he had " an 

 ax to grind." " But why do you ask ?" I said, my curios- 

 ity getting the better of me. 



" Because," said he, " I have some friends here on a visit, 

 am anxious that they should enjoy themselves, and thought 

 you might like to take them out shooting. I suppose he 

 (inclining his head toward the old setter, Dot) wouldn't fol- 

 low me, would he ?" 



«' Well, no ; not if I could help it," was the reply. 



"What kind of a man are you, anyway?" said he. 

 " Other people lend their dogs, and I don't see why you 

 should refuse." 



" That's just why I have good dogs. 1 break them my- 

 self, and allow no one else to handle them ; then, when 1 go 

 into the field, I have something that may be relied upon. 

 Take my advice, young man, and never ask to borrow a dog 

 of an old sportsman, and you'll not be disappointed. If 

 shoot you must, go to some pot hunter who keeps a mongrel 



for everybody's use, and borrow him ; you'll never know 

 the difference, and it will servo to gratify what you conceive 

 to be a taste for sport." 



Having thus delivered myself, and bidding him a "Good- 

 morning"" with one of my profoundest bows, I resumed my 

 line of march to the depot. When turning on the next cross- 

 ing below I glanced up the street, and there stood my collo- 

 quist where I had left him, with each hand to the elbow in 

 his trousers' pockets, staring at me with all the mouth and 

 eyes he had, looking just as if he didn't know whether he 

 felt called upon to demand an apology or sue out a writ of 

 lunacy against me. And even now, when we meet on the 

 street, he shies around me as if I were an escaped lunatic. 

 One thing I feel assured of, however (and right thankful 

 am I for the assurance), that he will never ask to borrow 

 another dog of me. 



Arriving at the depot just in time to catch the eleven 

 o'clock south-bound mail-train, I procured tickets and 

 stowed old Dot away in the baggage-car. Only a few mo- 

 ments' delay and we were off, free as the air, to indulge in 

 the delights of a real Christmas holiday. A three and a half 

 hours' ride brought us to my place of destination, and like- 

 wise a right stiff little snow storm, which didn't promise 

 well for my prospective sport. But the weather moderated 

 a little, it stopped snowing, and by the next morning it was 

 cold, damp and cloudy— just the kind of a day that affords 

 the best of sport to the gunner. After a late breakfast I 

 started out with dog and gun for a little tramp, merely to 

 get up an appetite for a Christmas dinner. Found two 

 coveys and bagged eleven quail in less than two hours. 



I wrote Mallory immediately on arrival that he might ex- 

 pect me on the following Monday, intending to spend the 

 remainder of Christmas week shooting with friends hear 

 town. But it grew much colder that night and snowed 

 some, which, with a hard breeze, disjointed all our plans. 

 As the week passed away it grew warmer, and by Monday 

 the weather was just right. 



With gun in one hand and valise in the other, I stepped 

 into a second-class car, old Dot following close "to heel," 

 and when I took a seat he crawled underneath it, thereby 

 avoiding the unpleasant necessity of being made baggage of. 

 Arriving at the station, who should I see emerging from the 

 rear coach but my old friend Captain Jim C, brother-in-law 

 to Mallory, whom we found waiting for us with a double 

 seated buggy drawn by an excellent team. On the way out 

 from the station Captain Jim entertained us with a history 

 of his experience as a sportsman. A friend(?) made him a 

 present of a fine dog, which necessitated the purchase of a 

 gun. He fancied he liked the sport, and waded through 

 one season. Then he fancied he didn't like it so well, since 

 he couldn't kill anything. He gave the dog away. His gun 

 and a thousand shells he was offering for sale at a sacrifice. 

 He regretted not being able to join us in the next day's 

 sport, having lost all taste for it, but assured us that he had 

 a wonderful stowage capacity for game after it was pre- 

 pared and brought to the table, which fact he lived to sub- 

 stantiate to the entire satisfaction of us all. 



After an uneventful little drive of five miles we pulled up 

 at Mt. Ida, the homestead of one of those grand old estates 

 peculiar to our Southern land in days gone by. The estate 

 is still kepi up by friend Mallory, his mother and sisters, all 

 of the very highest type of nature's nobility, and right roy- 

 ally do they entertain, to be sure. Now, in the^rnatch. 

 which was arranged for the following day, Mallory and 1 

 were to shoot against his cousin Tom J. and brother-in-law 

 Captain H., of Selena; but. as the latter gentleman tailed 

 to put in an appearance, they decided to substitute for him 

 a neighbor, Ed. S. One fact worthy of note in this connec- 

 tion is that we all met in our first tourney at glass balls only 

 a few weeks previously, in which Tom and Ed. came out 

 winners. So (hey but naturally felt they would have 

 an easy "walk over" in the matter In hand. They went 

 out to a party and remained until the " we sma' hours," 

 while Mallory and I retired rather early in the hope of get- 

 ting a good night's rest and rising with a steady hand for 

 the morrow's work. 



Next morning we were up at a reasonably early hour, and, 

 after a comfortable breakfast, off for the fields, Captain Jim 

 flinging the proverbial old "shoe of good luck" after us with 

 a side remark that he " hoped they would get at least enough 

 birds to make a mess for to-morrow's breakfast." At first 

 the weather was just right, but soon the wind changed and 

 brought with it unfavorable prospects for the day. 



Perhaps it may be well to describe my companions : Mal- 

 lory is of rather a sanguine-phlegmatic temperament, firm as 

 a rock, even tempered, with iron nerves; a sportsman everv 

 inch of him, and a number one shot. Tom is of a bilio"- 

 neivous temperament, rather delicate of constitution, warm- 

 hearted, with nerves like spring steel ; an anomalous com- 

 pound lormed by a combination of drollery and a peculiar 

 kind of timidity ; withal an excellent shot, and as good a 

 fellow as ever drew a trigger. Ed. is a blond chap, with a 

 sanguine temperament, full of fun, aad always ready for a 

 joke, on some one else. He is a capital good fellow in the field 

 and a crack shot; iti fact, he is one of the few men I've met 

 who approved my ideas of what, with practice, would make 

 a first-class snapshot. Nothing excites him, he is as 

 quick as lightning without being the least bit nervous, and 

 has that peculiar knack, or I prefer to call it gift, of pulling 

 trigger the moment the but of the stock touches the shoulder. 



But here we are at the field. Old Charlie, the colored 

 gillie, having proceeded us and pulled down the fence, we 

 lose no time riding inside and casting off the dogs. They 

 get themselves down to work in beautiful style, and, before 

 we have crossed the first field, seem to understand each other 

 as well as if they had run together a whole day. They both 

 wind game near a patch of millet. On they go steadily, and 

 now old Dot stands firmly. Mallory's old setter, Night 

 (staunch as a rock and black as midnight), comes up and 

 "backs" in splendid style. We all dismount and leave the 

 horses in charge of old Charlie; but by this time it is 

 sprinkling rain, the birds don't lie well to the dogs, they are 

 very much scattered and get up all around us. All four of 

 us being together makes confusion— bad shooting conse- 

 quently. We only get two birds on first rising and two 

 more on following them up. It always makes me nervous 

 to shoot with so many in a crowd ; so I suggested a division 

 of the party, which was unanimously agreed upon, with a 

 provision from Mallory that Ed and Tom should not shoot 

 on the ground, suggesting that we had better send Charlie 

 along to watch them, but finally agreed to put them on their 

 honor. 



After so long a time old Dot " finds " in very thin cover ; 

 it is still raining a heavy mist ; the birds rise out of range 

 and pitch into a thicket, where we follow and gei only two 

 of them. On we go (and still it rains), but we find no game. 

 Tom and Ed are in better luck, at least old Charlie has just 

 counted the twenty-sixth shot they have fired since we sep- 

 arated to our four. Finally old Dot winds a covey and 

 "finds" in good style. This time, although found in a 

 thicket, they scatter into good cover and afford us good 

 shooting (the first we've had), bagging seven or eight. But 

 every sweet has its bitter, and this case proved no exception 

 to the rule ; for we found all our shells wet, and it was ex- 

 ceedingly difficult to get the loaded ones in or the empty 

 ones out of the gun, which gave us a full realization of all 

 Mr. Zimmerman meant to express in his famous picture 

 " Tight shell." By this time Tom and Ed came in sight, 

 and when within hearing we readily discovered there was a 

 row on hand. Just what the trouble was we couldn't get- 

 enough of their conversation to understand, when Tom 

 called out with, "I say, boys, what do you think!" 

 Without giving him time to go on with his exclama- 

 tion, Mallory replied, in a rather absent-minded way: 

 "Well, I think this is a very disagreeable day for 

 shooting, but if the weather—" " Oh, bother with the 

 weather," said Tom ; " I wanted to tell you about some of 

 Ed's tricks. He has been claiming my birds all day. Every 

 time a bird fell he would pick up and pocket it just as com- 

 placently as if there wasn't a man within a mile of him, ut- 

 terly ignoring me -, and right now, more than half the 

 birds in his bag justly belong to me. I just allowed him to 

 take them rather than raise a fuss about it. But enough of 

 a thing is enough, and I'm not going to stand it any longer!" 



"Now just listen to him," says Ed. " He never did kill 

 anything until he took a deliberate rest on a fence, when he 

 managed to wing a bird on the ground and old Night caught 

 it. That seemed to give him a kind of a send off, and I be- 

 lieve he has killed two since." 



Tom, disgusted and quite out of patience, said : 



" Well, Ed, I do know you wouldn't tell the truth if you 

 could possibly get around it." 



Here Mallory, thinkfng from the amount of shooting the 

 others had done we must be a long way behind, interrupted 

 this interesting colloquy by suggesting a change of venue, 

 as the lawyers"say. So it was decided that we should make 

 our way by the nearest route across the creek and hunt 

 down on the other side. After crossing over we called a 

 halt for lunch. Luncheon over, we proceeded to count out 

 the morning's work, and found, much to the surprise of 

 Mallory and myself, that we were just even with them, Tom 

 and I having tied. Mallory and Ed were in the same fix, a 

 very encouraging showing for our side considering the 

 amoimt of shooting done on each side. 



" But," said Mallory, " what on earth were you all shoot- 

 ing at before we came together ?" 



" Oh, that's very easily explained," stud Ed, with a com- 

 icallook toward Tom. ""Every time I killed a bird Tom 

 would shoot, too, so he could claim it, and if I bad killed 

 every shot that would make two shots for each bird, you 

 understand ?" 



All of this on Ed's part was told with such a withering 

 pat-him-on-the-head air that Tom, seemingly in the depths 

 of despair, said : 



" Well, Ed, since I see you are determined to have all the 

 birds we double on, I will agree to let you count them that 

 way. One thing, however, I am determined on ; that is, 

 you shall not have the ones I shoot by myself !" 



All hands, including old Charlie, were called upon to 

 witness the contract, and then we were off again. In the 

 second field we crossed the dogs found a fine covey, but in 

 our efforts to get very near before dismounting we rode into 

 and flushed them, so we lost our chance at them on first 

 rising, but had them well scattered on a hillside among some 

 small pines and sedge grass. Now we scaUered out to busi- 

 ness, "every fellow on his own hook," and had some real 

 nice sport. 



" Well, that beats anything I ever saw : if ho can't claim 

 my birds himself, he wants some one elso to." 

 We found one other covey and had some very good shooting, 



