it,
and when Ned called out, "fetch it," I dropped it and ran toward him. I
was not obstinate, but I was stupid.

Ned pointed to the place where it was, and spread out his empty hands.
That helped me, and I ran quickly and got it. He made me get it for him
several times. Sometimes I could not find it, and sometimes I dropped
it; but he never stirred. He sat still till I brought it to him.

After a while he tried Billy, but it soon got dark, and we could not
see, so he took Billy and went into the house.

I stayed out with Jim for a while, and he asked me if I knew why Ned had
thrown a strap for us, instead of a bone or something hard.

Of course I did not know, so Jim told me it was on his account. He was
a bird dog, and was never allowed to carry anything hard in his mouth,
because it would make him hard-mouthed, and he would be apt to bite the
birds when he was bringing them back to any person who was shooting with
him. He said that he had been so carefully trained that he could even
carry three eggs at a time in his mouth.

I said to him, "Jim, how is it that you never go out shooting? I have
always heard that you were a dog for that, and yet you never leave
home."

He hung his head a little, and said he did not wish to go, and then, for
he was an honest dog, he gave me the true reason.

CHAPTER VIII A RUINED DOG

"I WAS a sporting dog," he said, bitterly, "for the first three years of
my life. I belonged to a man who keeps a livery stable here in Fairport,
and he used to hire me out shooting parties.

"I was a favorite with all the gentlemen. I was crazy with delight when
I saw the guns brought out, and would jump up and bite at them. I loved
to chase birds and rabbits, and even now when the pigeons come near me,
I tremble all over and have to turn away lest I should seize them. I
used often to be in the woods from morning till night. I liked to have
a hard search after a bird after it had been shot, and to be praised for
bringing it out without biting or injuring it.

"I never got lost, for I am one of those dogs that can always tell where
human beings are. I did not smell them. I would be too far away for
that, but if my master was standing in some place and I took a long
round through the woods, I knew exactly where he was, and could make a
short cut back to him without returning in my tracks.

"But I must tell you about my trouble. One Saturday afternoon a party
of young men came to get me. They