T HE Irish terrier is a 
true Irishman. I do 
not mean a low comedian with 
a red wig and a stub of a clay 
pipe, nor a sweetly, sad, ro¬ 
mantic tenor with nicely 
rouged cheeks and pumps 
with great silver buckles. The 
objection of a certain tre¬ 
mendously clever gentleman 
from Dublin that there is no 
typical Irishman is half 
truth, for the “typical Irish¬ 
man” is usually a poor, lop¬ 
sided creature. If drawn by a 
comic artist, his external 
features are exaggerated out 
of proportion. A lady nov¬ 
elist, on the other hand, will 
turn him inside out, an equal¬ 
ly unfaithful portrait. 
The terrier from Ireland is 
remarkably like his original 
master. As one of his oldest 
and best friends once said to 
me: “Shure, he's a rale bit 
o’ the Ould Sod.” Irish ter¬ 
rier and Irish gentleman both 
hide their deeper feelings and 
finer sensibilities under an 
apparently care-free exterior. 
The better one knows 
these two, the strong¬ 
er their likenesses in 
disposition and char¬ 
acter appear. So, af¬ 
ter a deal of casting 
about, I can find no 
more fitting title for 
this, the story of the 
Irish terrier, than the 
two words “Real 
Irish." But one must 
remember what real 
Irish is. 
The little, four- 
footed Irishman is 
the most lovable of 
dogs. Always happy 
and lively, with a 
devil-may-care air, he 
is a bit too cock-sure 
at times, but his heart 
is light as a balloon 
and almost as big, and he is always ready to meet anyone half 
way. He races through life, his head cocked on one side, his 
•‘N'A • : 
The John L. Sullivan of dogs; he never “starts things" out of pure deviltry, 
but he can stand up for himself when occasion arises. His scrappiness is 
mostly an exuberance of spirit and a desire to mix in 
A FAITHFUL PORTRAIT OF THE IRISH TER¬ 
RIER—THE TRUTH ABOUT HIS FIGHTING 
PROPENSITIES — WAS HE ORIGINALLY AN 
ORANGEMAN ? 
Williams Haynes 
Author of “Scottish and Irish Terriers,” “Practical Dog 
Breeding,” etc. 
bright eyes sparkling 
with keen merriment, 
his tail gaily erect. He 
is ever on the alert, 
and he never misses a 
trick in the game. He 
may blarney, but he 
never begs; and he 
fears no man or beast. 
Come fair weather or 
foul, good luck or bad, 
he is always the same 
cheerful little chap, 
ever ready to share any 
lot with his beloved 
master. 
This master of his is 
his god. Though he 
can never be accused of 
snobbishness, still his deep 
affection for his own family 
is a very different thing 
from his frank camaraderie 
with the world at large. 
His love is strong and sure and faith¬ 
ful to the very end of his life. Only 
the voice of his master, raised in displeasure 
or in discipline, can stop the gay wagging of 
his tail, but he is very sensitive to rebuke 
from those he loves. Through his heart he is 
tractable to training that could never be 
beaten into his tough little hide. 
All the terriers are blessed with the happy knack 
of making themselves at home in any clime and 
under any circumstance, but in this the Irish ter¬ 
rier is trebly blessed. Box him up in a crate and 
ship him off-—it makes not a bit of difference 
whether your destination be a ranch in Arizona 
or an apartment in New York—when you open up 
his box he will hop out, greet you with a joyous 
bark, make a hurried inspection of the new prem¬ 
ises, and come back with wagging tail to tell you: 
"This suits me! Now, what’s next on the pro¬ 
gram ?” 
Over and above his perfect adaptability to any 
surroundings, the Irish terrier can with impunity 
be cosmopolitan in his associations. He can hob¬ 
nob with the grooms in the stables without losing 
those qualities that make him so delightful a com¬ 
panion for his mistress. He is one of those rare 
chaps equally at home and equally popular in the 
harness room and in the parlor. Moreover, he is 
well able to lead a varied life. He is a bully good 
pal for man or boy in the country. He is a fitting 
and proper escort for milady in town. He will hunt moles or 
rats or woodchucks with furious gusto from morn till night, and 
165 
