"What's the good of your taking prizes," he said, "if you're such an idiot in the field?—might as well have a greyhound."
"I wish you had," I said under my breath.
I spent a week in torment, and then it occurred to me that this low-born, gaitered person would have been better pleased with my brother. So I tried to recall the tricks with which my brother had particularly aggravated me; and, the next time I smelt a partridge, I lay down, as I had seen my brother do, and lifted a foolish foot. I was rewarded with a pat and encouragement.
I have now sunk entirely to my brother's level. My master pronounces me to be a most excellent sporting dog. But I shall never forget the blows and angry words that were necessary to make me renounce my ideal of what a setter should be; and deep in my heart I still cherish, with passionate devotion, my views on duty, and my honourable family pride.
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
Edinburgh & London
Transcriber's Notes:
Some illustration placement has been adjusted to prevent them from interrupting paragraphs. As part of this movement, at times the illustration list link will go to the illustration instead of the no longer existing actual page. I.E. the illustration entitled: "Now the back of a cow is the last place where you would look for a cat" has been moved from 33 to page 35.