n8 BREAKING A BIRD DOG 
o’clock. At a few minutes after that hour the first 
brace was cast off. Fishel’s Frank went away with 
his usual snap and dash and for a few minutes he 
looked very good to those who were in the gallery 
as spectators as he flitted far out on the horizon line. 
He skirted the edge of a stubble field, leaped a fence 
into pasture and made for a skirting of woods on the 
left; suddenly he threw his head up, turned and 
caught the scent of quail. For one moment he 
stopped in order to make it out and then he roaded 
up to the edge of the forest and stiffened into one of 
his characteristic attitudes. Jack Gude called point 
and rode up to his dog slowly; he seemed to have 
unbounded confidence in his stanchness. He dis¬ 
mounted thirty yards away, walked up to him and 
was about to flush, when the judges ordered him to 
shoot. Going back to his horse to get the gun out 
of the scabbard, he made a few jesting remarks to 
some of the spectators, but still his confidence was 
unshaken. Just as Gude took the gun down and 
turned toward the dog, Frank bounded forward, put 
up the bevy and chased it into the woods! His every 
action seemed to say: “If you think this is a jest, I’ll 
be a party to it.” Never was handler more sur¬ 
prised; never did a laugh go up among the spec¬ 
tators like on that occasion, for notwithstanding the 
seriousness of it all to Gude, who thus saw the 
money get away from under his very eyes, he, too, 
