FIRST DAYS IN THE FIELD 3 
self to it—so surely had the puppy by that 
time become almost one of the family that 
we just felt we couldn't spare her. Yet I 
was exceedingly busy at the office and very 
much inclined to feel that to send her away 
was the only solution to the problem. 
“Why in thunder don't you break her 
yourself ?" The question was put to me point- 
blank one day by Harvey King, with the 
bluntness that sometimes characterizes that 
splendid sportsman and artist who loves so 
well to paint real bird dogs in action or in 
any poses peculiar to the breed. 
My first inclination was to say I hadn't 
time. We are apt to get into the habit these 
days of thinking we haven't time for things. 
But Mr. King scoffed at the idea. “When I 
was a young man," he said, “I wouldn't think 
of having one of my dogs trained by some 
one else—never cared a whit for one that I 
didn't train myself. You can train your little 
setter—why don't you do it? You'll never 
be half so satisfied with her unless you do. 
You young fellows these days give me a pain 
with all your rush and artificiality!" 
The taunt in his voice was as a challenge 
