Lx, who was one of the Prince of Wales shooting party around about
Chicago (F. W. was there also), had one of the dogs they shot over
with him. He was a liver colored pointer named Grouse, and one of the
most cantankerous beasts in temper I ever saw. Once he growled at Mark
(A No. 1 bullterrier owned by my brother). Mark was the quietest dog
unless he was bothered. He went for Grouse who jumped away so quickly
that Mark only reached his tail. It healed all right but left a lump
and we thought L-- would be wild when he returned. However, he was
not, but thanked Frank, as he said Grouse bit when he was threshed and
L used to hold him by the tail and when he turned to bite hit him with
one of those short knotted dog whips; then Grouse would try the other
side and get straightened out again. So L was obliged; as he said he
never could hold him before as he could now from behind. This is a
true dog story. L was the man who always shot at an Indian.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Tale of Grouse.]