Cat and Dog | Page 5

meet Craven, who now appeared in full costume. He was so
hung about with extra shooting-pouches, belts, powder-flasks, and
other things dangling from him in all directions, that I wondered he
could move at all. Old John shook his head as he looked at him, and
muttered, "Great cry and little wool."
Lily began to explain her father's absence; but Craven did not listen to
what she said, he seemed intent upon making her admire his numerous
contrivances. Lily said he had plenty of tools, and that he would be

very clever if he did work to match, but that in her opinion such variety
was rather puzzling.
"Of course, girls know nothing of field-sports," he answered; "I can't
expect you to understand the merits of these things."
"Oh, no, to be sure," answered Lily, good-humouredly; "I dare say they
are all very clever; only papa sometimes tells me that one wants but few
tools if one knows one's work; but perhaps he only means girls' work.
Very likely you are right about yours."
Old John now came forward very respectfully, but with a particular
twinkle in his eye which I understood. Said he, "As you are
encumbered with so many traps, master, maybe I had best take your
gun. You can't carry every thing useful and not useful."
Craven handed him the gun without any objection, and we set off.
From the moment that I saw him relinquish his gun, his real weapon,
for the sake of all those unnecessary adjuncts, I gave up any lingering
hope of him, and followed in very low spirits. Once in the fields, the
prospect of rejoining my master a little revived me; but even in this I
was disappointed: he had gone over the open country, while Craven
preferred remaining in the plantations. Still, old John's company was a
comfort to me, and when the first bird was descried, I made a capital
set at it. Craven took back his gun; but while he was looking in the
wrong pocket for the right shot, John brought down the partridge.
"A fine bird," said Craven. "If it had not been for this awkward button,
I should have had him."
"You'll soon have another opportunity," said John; "suppose you get
loaded first."
Craven loaded; but something else was wrong about his contrivances,
and before he was ready, John had bagged the pheasant. At last Craven
got a shot, and missed it. He said it was John's fault for standing in the
way of his seeing me.

"Well, I shan't be in the way any longer," said John; "for I was to go
back to my work if I was not wanted, after having shown you the
plantations. So good morning, master, and good luck next time."
The next time, and the next, and the next, no better success. Bird after
bird rose, and flew away before our noses, as if in sheer ridicule of such
idle popping, till I felt myself degraded in the eyes of the very
partridges. Half the morning we passed in this way, wasting time and
temper, powder and shot; and the birds, as I well knew, despising us for
missing them, till my patience was quite exhausted, and I longed to go
home. Still, I remembered Lily's parting injunctions, and resolved to be
game to the last myself, even if we were to have no other game that day.
I also reflected that no one was born with a gun in his hand, and that
Craven might not have had opportunity of acquiring dexterity; that
there was a beginning to everything, and that it was the business of the
more experienced to help the ignorant. So I continued to be as useful to
him as I possibly could.
Suddenly, after a particularly provoking miss, Craven exclaimed: "It is
all your fault, you stupid dog; you never turn the bird out where one
expects it. If you knew your business, I could have bagged dozens."
Highly affronted, I now felt that I had borne enough, and that it was
hopeless to attempt being of use to a creature as unjust and ungrateful
as he was ignorant and conceited. I, therefore, turned round, and in a
quiet but dignified and decided manner took my way towards home.
Craven called, whistled, shouted, but I took no notice. I was too much
disgusted to have anything more to do with him; and I never turned my
head nor slackened my pace till I arrived at my own kennel, when I
curled myself round in my straw, and brooded over my wrongs till I
went to sleep.
I kept rather out of sight during the rest of the day, for more reasons
than one. An inferior creature cannot at once rise superior to an affront,
and