FOHEST AND STREAM. B13 
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THE CONTINENTAL CERTIFICATE OF AWARD. 
From a drawing by Edra. H. Osthaus. 
Dec. 23, 1899.] 
warm toward noon, and a bit too warm for comfort 
in the afternoon. 
Jack and Colonel R, were cast oflf at g:i2. Colonel 
found and pointed two bevies, and flushed a third. Eacll 
made a good point on singles. Colonel ranged with the 
better judgment. Both went wide in their casts. Up at 
9:5.5- 
Uncle B. and Minnie's Girl were started at 10:02, 
Uncle made a stanch point, wiiich Minnie backed welt 
for a while, then broke her back. Sent on. Uncle poinLed 
a bevy and Minnie badied well. On the scattered birdg 
they made a poor showing. Minnie pointed and moved 
on, and some birds were flvished close by where she 
pointed. Uncle pointed and nothing was found. TJp 
at ii:ii. Minnie appeared to be oi? her nose, while 
Uncle's work was both good and faulty. 
Roland and Toby's Mark began at .11:31. Roland 
flushed one bevy and pointed another. He had a mod- 
erate range, but excellent judgment. He was rather 
slow in his gallop. Mark made an inferior competition. 
Up at 12:16. 
TJie party next went to lunch at Yount's place. 
Second Round. 
Lad of Jingo and Colonel R. were cast off at i :30. 
Colonel made three points on singles, and, standing in a 
creek, pointed nicely a bevy on the bank some 3 or 4 feet 
above him in the field, and some feet away from the 
creek. It was a very pretty piece of work. Lad pointed 
a single, flushed one, and made several points to which 
nothing was found. Both were fast and wide rangerSj. 
Colone! t>ie better. His judgment in beating out his 
ground was excellent. Up at 2:28. 
Young Jingo and Lady's Count Gladstone were cast 
of? at 2,-43. Count found and pointed three bevies. Jingo 
found and pointed one bevy, and in coming to back 
pointed a bevy which Count had found and Avas pointing. 
Jingo covered more gorund, but he did not work to so 
good purpose as did Count. Count made two points 
to which nothing was found. Up at 3:48. 
Jack and Uncle B. began at 3:48. Uncle took a long 
cast, and standing on a wheat field pointed a bevy which 
was in the weeds at the side. Jack next flushed "a bevy. 
The dogs were then worked on the scattered birds, but 
could not be kept in hand. They kept on ranging, and 
Uncle pointed a bevy, Jack at the same time pointing on 
the footscent. After this both dogs broke away from 
control and were Lost some minutes. Up at 4:25. 
Final. 
Colonel R. and Lady's Count Gladstone were cast off 
at 4:33, to comply with the rule which requires tirst and 
second to run together. Both dogs took a cast to the 
woods, and Count there made a point on some scattered 
birds. LTp at 4:42. 
The dogs were placed as follows: First, Colonel R. ; 
second, I-ady's Count Gladstone; third, Lad of Jijjgp.. 
Speaking of Dogs/' 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I see your readers are beginning to write of, the dogs 
they own or haA'e owned- Why cannot we have more 
of it? There is an old saying that a poor man will have 
one dog, but a very poor one will own two or more. I 
am in that latter class and will write of old Ben, how I 
came to get him and what he is good for. 
A few years ago I became acquainted with an officer in 
a town not far from New York where they have a dog 
pound. I told him if they eyer took in a nice bird dog 
not to kill him, but let me ifaiow and I would pay the 
necessary charges and take him out. I had forgotten all 
about it, when one day about six months ago I got a call 
on the telephone: "Have a dog for you. What train do 
you go up on?" I told him, and when the train rolled in 
I went into the baggage car, and there was my dog. No 
name to call him — nothing but an old rope around his 
neck. I called him Ben and he made friends at once. He 
paid no attention to the noise and bustle of the train, for, 
as I afterwards found out, he was used to it and had been 
all over the country on hunting trips with his former 
owner. I took the old fellow home. He was a big white 
English setter, finely feathered, with coal black ears, a 
fine shaped head. I fed myself and Ben and went to 
bed. About 12 o'clock Ben came to the side of the bed 
and barked twice and then ran to the door, as much as 
to say, 'T want to go out," I dressed and took him out. 
He still does that. If he wants a drink he will go to the 
sink and bark; and if not attended to at once will come 
and root you with bis nose. When he is out, if he wants 
to come in he will come to the door, put his paw on the 
knob and rattle it. If that brings no response he will 
bark.' . 
I kept him all summer, but had no chance to try hmi 
except on Sundays, and found that he knev/ what was 
wanted of him. 'VVhen one night I went home and was 
told that Ben was afraid of thunder I thought I had a 
gun-shy dog; but T got a .shell that had been fired and 
the gun. He smelled them all over, wagged his tail and 
ran to the door. Then I knew that everything was O. K. 
Well, Nov. 10 came at last and 4 o'clock found me at a 
breakfast of pancakes and sausage, Ben sitting alongside 
waiting for his share. After breakfast we had a seven- 
mile drive. Old Ben crawled into the back part of the 
wagon, at home anjavhere. We put our team up at a 
farm house and started. What a peach Ben is! He is as 
fast as the fastest; very careful; no fooling: nothing but 
hunt, in every slough, around every brush heap, that old 
tail of his going to beat the band. If you went up one side 
of a hedge fence old Ben was on the other side. I was 
the proudest man in the county. I have been out with him 
often since-, and it is the same thing. We may not get 
much game, for same is scarce, but it is sport to see that 
old dog- work. Go in for dinner at noon, and he will act 
so tired that you will say, "I will leave him in for the after- 
noon." But then he will take a snooze and be just as fresh 
as in the morning. I have had him out with some of the 
best setters about here. Thev are not 1—2—6 with Ben- 
jamin. "He i.'^ first to find biids and first m every bush 
and brier patch. But why shouldn't he be? The old dog 
was educated for that. ^, , ^ , 
T have found out all about him. Old Col. -^'^^ 
btoMght a liule r"'P ^fom Ensl-iif^ tfvi yeara ago in« P"S< 
him in the hands of a trainer (could not find out name of 
trainer). Cost the Colonel $10 to have him broke. The 
Colonel had plenty of means and did nothing but hunt, 
always taking the dog with him. That is why he has 
such good manners on a train or in a wagon or house. 
It is too bad he cannot talk. I often sit and hold his head 
in my lap and wish he could tell me about his dift'erent 
hunting trips. He would likely tell about once in Flor- 
ida when he came near being gobbled up by a big alliga- 
tor, or how close he had been to a bear up in Maine, or 
a Avildcat may have chased him out of her home. He is 
no fighter — ^minds his own business all the time. Has no 
use for rabbits; will point them, but never chases them. 
The old Colonel died about three years ago, and before 
he died gave the dog to an old hunter to keep until he 
died. Ben outlived them all. The old hunter died, and 
Ben was without a home. Then came the dog pound. 
That is how I came to own a dog that cost $100 to lireak. 
I only wish he was about four years old; but from all 
appearance he is good for two or three years more. I 
have had him stolen from me twice and he has been 
poisoned once. 
He has two bad habits — likes chickens and will get 
on a clean bed. I would not part with the old fellow, for 
who could take his place? Who would meet me at the 
door every night? .A-nd the last thing I hear in the morn- 
ing is the old fellow's bark wanting the door opened to 
follow me. What if he does get me all covered with white 
silky hairs? They Avill all brush off. He don't want any 
salary Saturday night. Just give him a good bed and 
plenty to eat and take him out hunting once in a while or 
for a walk on Sundays. Where can a truer friend be found 
than a good bird dog? They tell no tales, make no trou- 
ble — unless perhaps once in a while with the neighbors' 
chickens. I would like to know what would make a dog 
afraid of thunder. If a thunder storm comes up Ben pulls 
for home in a hurry. Abje. 
What Should He Do with It? 
Editor Forest and Sireain: 
I wish you would tell me wdiat to do with my dog. He 
is a big fellow, weighs 160 pounds, half rough and half 
smooth haired St. Bernard, and handsome as a picture. 
But such a nuisance! I confess I didn't bring him up 
in the way he should go, and now that he is old (two 
years) he departs from it. I spared the switch and 
spoiled the dog. ^ 
Every morning at '_y:30, when the mail earner lias 
passed my house, he plants himself at the front door and 
waits for me to go to the post office. If I do not come 
soon he whines. If T still delay he howls, and tears run 
down his cheeks. "VATien at length I come out he fri.sks. 
At t:.5o P, M., the time fof the aftcrnonn mail, thp same 
thing "Sm *g«iur 
Now, 160 pounds of brownish-yelloW dog performing 
antics on a narrow country sidewalk and not always 
having sense enough to get out of the way is sometime^ 
an annoyance. I can scarcely endure him. I dou't sec 
what makes him act .so, for I hardly treat hiin with 
decent civiHty. I never flatter or play with him, only 
once in a while 1 pat him on the head and tell him what 
a good dog he v.^ould be if he wasn't so useless. Indeed, 
I often use his great body for a footstool while I smoke 
my pipe and read Forkst and Stream. 
After the post office episode, when he isn't quietly 
waiting on the piazza for somebody else to invite him to 
go to walk, he usually wants to lie in a certain place in 
the kitchen, right where all the servants and everybody 
else having business in that department will have to step 
over him. And yet if I attempt to administer a harmless 
but ceremonioits kick, like Sam Weller's to the Fat Boy. 
I meet looks of surprise and disapproval, and if any of 
the fatnily happens to be in sight I get words of re- 
proach. 
And the creature is of no use. 
There is scarcely a boy in the village the least bit 
afraid of hitn, and scarcely a cat that will perk up her 
tail when he passes. Only three ducks and a parcel of 
hens skedaddle when they see him coming, though he 
never deigns to notice them. If a whole regiment of 
tramps were to parade through the house I doubt if he 
would do anything but put up his paw and ask to be 
petted. 
Last summer I had him at the lake, and when I went 
away for two days he just sat on the extreme end of 
the boat landing and silently wept. I didn't know dogs 
could cry that vvay. 
Now, what shall I do with that animal? 
Once I threatened to have him shot, but everybody — 
dog and all — ^knew I wouldn't, so nobody minded me. 
■Then I made an arrangement to give him away. But 
my women folks made such a fuss and said the poor 
thing would be so lonely and would not get enough to 
eat, and have such a bad time generally, that just to 
keep peace in the family, I have never asked the man 
to come for him. So here he is yet and my feet are 
on him as I write, the great, splendid, good-for-nothing 
fellow. 
So, dear Forest akd Stream, please tell me how^ to 
get rid of him. But, if j'ou please, do not recommend 
any har=:h measures. Those women are so_ tender-hearted 
aiid silly. G. de "Montanbau. 
J, Otto Donner* 
On Tuesday of last week a good and famous ^oorts- 
man, Mr. T. Otto Donner, passed away. He died in the 
HnHa.tid Hotise, New York City. A fexv years ago br: 
»4S tstiiveljf id*«itiRe»i with feencb shew and field iml m 
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