132 



RECREATION. 



"Quick, get the guns out while I 

 tie the horse." John was out in a 

 jiffy, while the birds ran up the bank 

 into a field as I nervously put the 16 

 bores together. 



The moment the dogs were out of 

 the wagon the birds rose and I 

 marked them drop into a pasture 

 where a slight rocky mound was 

 overgrown with briars and a few 

 trees. 



We swung behind and around it to 

 give the dogs the wind. Lorna was 

 off like a cyclone with old Ned 

 closely following. 



As we rounded the mound we came 

 upon Ned, head up and stiff as iron. 



"John, Lorna has them." 



"Undoubtedly ; for Ned is backing;" 

 and a few steps revealed Lorna on a 

 beautiful point. Passing Ned, who 

 never broke his back, we advanced 

 upon Lorna, when the whole bevy 

 rose and scattered. 



John missed his first, which I 

 doubled up as it went like a bullet 

 over my head, and then turning 

 grassed another with my left, just as 

 a third came whirling down to John's 

 second barrel. 



" Where did they go, John?" 



"Just across the road; come on." 



" Go ahead, I'll be with you as 

 soon as I get my birds;" for I never 

 allow my dogs to retrieve during the 

 first year. 



As I climbed the fence a minute 

 later I looked across the road in time 

 to see Ned on a fine point, with John 

 anxiously awaiting my arrival. 



"Go on, John, don't wait for me;" 

 and in a moment the bird was flushed 

 and neatly dropped. By this time 

 I was in the field, but where was 

 Lorna? Nowhere to be seen. I was 

 certain she crossed the road with me. 



As I walked up to the fence to see 

 what had become of her, a bird rose 

 under the bank and flying low along 

 the fence, escaped without a shot; 

 and there stood Lorna just as when 

 she found the bird. 



A run through the field was unpro- 

 ductive, and again, as we turned to 

 the road, Lorna was missed. It was 

 growing dark when we spied her 

 wheeling like lightning to a point in 

 the pasture, and, going over,we raised 

 two birds. I dropped mine but John's 

 kept on down along the fence as far 

 as we' could see. Starting after it 

 both dogs trailed and trailed until 

 the missing bird was carefully 

 rounded up by the experienced Ned 

 and downed by John as it quartered 

 to his left. 



"Hear them call, Doc, right up 

 along the fence under those cherry 

 trees. Come on or we won't be able 

 to see before long." 



We went. Lorna pointed and I 

 missed them. Ned pointed and John 

 missed. Then both pointed and we 

 both missed. 



By this time the little mare had 

 almost escaped from her hide at her 

 efforts to get away from our can- 

 nonading (though it was wood 

 powder), and reluctantly we turned 

 toward the wagon and were soon 

 homeward bound. Lighting our 

 cigars we sped along at a smart pace 

 and recounted as we went the mag- 

 nificent work of Lorna. For it was 

 magnificent : it was phenomenal. 



Though but a puppy, she behaved 

 like a veteran, and though Ned is a 

 "corker," John cheerfully acknow- 

 ledged that he had never seen such 

 quick, snappy, positive work by any 

 dog in all his life as that done by 

 Lorna. 



Although my pa a jiner was, 

 An' kep' the nails a jinglin', 



He didn't do it all, becuz 

 My mother did the shinglin'. 



Pa said he was the whole blamed ship, 



The mainstay an' the anchor ; 

 But then I think he made a slip, 



"Cuz mother was the spanker. 



Boston Courier. 



