246 
FOREST AND STREAM 
June, 1921 
These he always killed, but they 
brought him woe, for he was banished 
then from the house until the perfume 
slowly wore away. 
He became a noted dog in the com- 
munity, and on one occasion caught and 
killed a two-thirds grown raccoon. As 
he grew older he became a dependable 
watch dog, in spite of his small stat- 
ure, and woe betide the intruder, be it 
human or animal, who 
came on our premises 
after bed time. 
As my years ad- 
vanced Gunner, then 
bowed with the weight 
of age, slept in his bar- 
rel under the east 
porch. Many nights 
when I would return 
quite late, I would re- 
move my shoes at the 
gate, and on stockinged 
feet come quietly up the 
walk, but the instant 
my foot touched the 
first porch step, out 
would come the old dog, 
with deep menacing 
growl, and then that 
old tail would wag in 
recognition, and he 
would return to his 
slumbers. I tried it re- 
peatedly but never 
fooled him. 
Who ever saw an old 
dog die? And so one 
day, in obedience to the 
instincts of his race, 
dear old Gunner disap- 
peared and we knew 
him no more. 
W HEN I was about 
fifteen years of 
age, I greatly de- 
sired a hound. One Sun- 
day morning in spring- 
time, I heard a sus- 
picious noise on the 
front porch and on in- 
vestigating found a little hound puppy, 
not more than four weeks old, whimper- 
ing for his mother. How the little fel- 
low ever reached that position has al- 
ways remained a mystery, for the porch 
steps were too steep for him to climb. 
He was named Milo, and in his short life 
of three breef years, gave me much joy. 
Old Gunner did not take kindly to the 
new comer, and with direful growls 
would drive him from his selected bone, 
and carry it away to enjoy it in quiet 
seclusion under the apple tree. The pup 
grew lustily and one day the “worm” 
turned, and dashing the old dog to the 
ground, Milo stood over him with gleam- 
ing teeth and menacing snarl, and poor 
Gunner, with hanging head, crept feebly 
away, dethroned for all time. It truly 
was a pathetic sight, but an apt illus- 
tration of that cruel law of nature, “the 
survival of the fittest.” Milo was a 
great rabbit dog, but an unappeasable 
appetite for eggs caused a neighbor 
to cut short his rapid rise to fame with 
a shotgun. 
Soon after the passing of Milo and 
Gunner, I got married, and began what 
should be the great ambition of every 
true American — the making of a home. 
To my wife, I brought one evening a 
mongrel puppy, which she named Jack, 
in memory of a canine playmate of her 
girlish days. Jack had a large portion 
of spaniel in his make up, and was very 
intelligent. 
Our home was not blessed with chil- 
dren for several years, and Jack was 
to enjoy his stolen “fruit” in peace and 
comfort. 
Slightly crushing the egg, he took one 
long, lingering suck and then the look 
of surprise, and injured innocence that 
spread over his expressive countenance 
made us shriek with laughter. Loud 
was his bewailing as he tried to paw 
that liquid fire from his mouth, but the 
way of the transgressor is always hard, 
and a long time elapsed 
before that burning 
sensation left him and 
quiet once more 
reigned ; but his love 
for eggs was cured for 
all time. 
Many times after that 
when Jack would be go- 
ing through his stunts, 
I would slyly produce 
an egg and immediately 
his tail would drop, and 
with hanging head he 
would sneak away ut- 
terly shamed 1 . It was 
too funny for words, 
and afforded us many 
a hearty laugh. 
A s 
Drawn by Edmund Osthaus. 
Milo on the track of a rabbit 
much petted by his mistress, and taught 
many amusing tricks. The neighboring 
children were filled with wonder to see 
Jack sit a little back from the table and 
say grace; then speak for his dinner, 
walk on his hind legs, roll over at com- 
mand, smoke a pipe, etc. He also de- 
veloped a great appetite for eggs, and 
one Sunday morning in his early puppy 
days he came trotting home from a 
neighbor’s with an egg in his mouth, 
wagging his tail as proud as Lucifer. 
Loud were his lamentations when the 
heavy hand of justice fell upon his 
tender body, but whipping failed to 
break him of his evil habit, so I re- 
sorted to strategy. 
An egg was punctured and a quan- 
tity of Cayenne pepper carefully inject- 
ed and thoroughly mixed within, then 
the opening was plugged and the egg 
left in a convenient place for Jack to 
find, while my wife and I watched 
events through the parted window 
blinds. Soon Jack came trotting into 
the yard with the egg in his mouth, and 
after looking carefully around, lay 
down in the shade of the old apple tree, 
S the years passed 
Jack added to his 
accomplishments, 
and became the most 
deadly rabbit dog 1 ever 
owned. He had a liking 
for small swamps, 
hedge rows, and dense 
brier thickets. He ran 
mute on the trail ex- 
cepting when very close 
on his quarry; then he 
would give tongue like 
a cocker spaniel and the 
startled rabbit would 
pop from the cover as 
if thrown by a powerful 
spring. As a meat dog 
hd was a great success, 
but the sport lacked the 
great charm that comes 
with the music of the 
hounds when they are in full cry. 
With age and experience Jack became 
very crafty, and caught numbers of full 
grown rabbits unaided. Many times did 
he merge from swamp or brier thicket 
with a rabbit in his mouth to be laid 
in triumph at my feet, and I had not 
heard a sound to note the passing trag- 
edy. He also rivalled Gunner in his 
skill in trailing ’possums, but his mute 
running required some one to be with 
him who understood his ways to insure 
success. Under the skillful handling 
of Conover, one of our farm hands, I 
have known Jack to catch nine 'possums 
in one evening and under his relentless 
pursuit they became, in a few years, 
very scarce in our vicinity. 
While Jack still remained with us, 
a friend in town presented me with a 
thoroughbred liver-colored pointer pup. 
I named him Jay. He was kept on a 
chain near my chicken yard, and be- 
came an expert ill killing chickens. He 
would lie apparently asleep, but woe be- 
tide the unsuspecting fowl that came 
within his reach, for its death was as 
swift as the lightning’s flash. 
