told me that even in Nottingham, supposed to be the home of the smooth variety, the "wire-hairs' were common enough when he was a boy forty-five years ago. And how visions of his early sporting days rushed before him when he told me of a terrier he had owned with an extraordinarily long head, which came from the Quorn when Sir Richard Sutton was the master. This dog was in every sense a pattern of the best we see to-day, 18lb. weight, hard coated, strong-jawed, possessing at the same time the "ferocity of the tiger" when "cats" were about, and "the gentleness of the dove" in the presence of his genial owner. Mr. C. M. Browne ("Robin Hood") believed that a majority of the Midland counties strains of wirehaired terriers sprang from this dog, which became the property of Mr. T. Wootton, who certainly had some very good ones about twenty years later.

No further proof of the gameness of the modern wire-haired terrier need be adduced than was described in the columns of the Field not long ago, in connection with the local otter hounds, which were hunting the River Lune, near Hornby. An otter had been marked in a tile drain, an ordinary drain pipe indeed, and to drive him one of the hunt's terriers went to ground. There was no side drain to allow him to get behind the otter, and of course to draw

Master Lutra badger fashion was impossible. However, in the end the otter was, if not actually drawn, fairly driven out of his stronghold, the plucky little terrier having actually fought his way underneath or over his enemy, and when once behind him, made the drain so uncomfortable, that the roughand-ready notice of ejectment was acted upon. A fine otter dashed out of the drain's mouth, followed immediately by Turk, sadly bitten and bedraggled, but by no means seriously injured. This terrier, though the huntsman could give no pedigree with him, was in appearance of fashionable blood—a good-looking little fellow, about 15lb. in weight, and handsome enough to win a prize on the show bench, which he has done. Bobby Troughton, who has hunted the Kendal Otter Hounds since their establishment, says this dog Turk was the gamest and hardest terrier he ever possessed-surely a glowing testimonial for a modern show animal.

I was introduced to another particularly game wire-haired terrier a couple of years ago, whilst on a visit to a friend at Watford. This dog, Jack (Powderham Jack in the Stud Books), running about the house blind and terribly scarred, evidently being a favourite with his owner, Mr. W. H. B. Schrieber, I inquired the history of his wounds, and this was as follows: When six years old, one day

in November, Jack was put into a badger earth about 12 o'clock, and as he did not stay very long in one place, seemingly hustling the badger about underground, a bitch was sent in to assist him, with the idea that she might corner the game. As it happened there were two badgers in the earth, the bitch finding one of them not far underground, and near to where a trench was being dug. This badger, however, shifted his position, and when the bitch came out of the earth nothing, for a time, could be detected of the old dog. Then he was heard "baying" a long way in the earth, but as evening approached and it began to grow dark, all was quite quiet again.

Assistance was obtained from the neighbouring village in order that Jack should be reached if possible, and just as a relay of diggers arrived the terrier was faintly heard not far from one of the openings, and here he was found, so terribly exhausted as to be almost incapable of crawling out. He had been underground for six and a half hours, and was of course severely bitten and torn. The nature of his injuries was not however discovered till next day, when, having been taken home, surgical assistance was called in. The veterinarian gave little hopes of recovery, as Jack was so terribly punished through the lower jaw, it being likened to

a sieve, so full of open wounds was it, made by the badger's claws. The game dog had made himself a great favourite; he was carefully nursed and well cared for; during three weeks some one sat up with him nightly, and he was fed at intervals with beef tea, &c., administered by the aid of a spoon held far down below the tongue, as anything given in the usual way flowed out through the holes the badger had caused. In due course Jack recovered, but one of his eyes had been bitten through, and the sight of the other went, either through "sympathy or by the carbolic acid used in dressing the wounds, which for a long time had seemed likely to mortify.

Now comes the extraordinary part of the story. The next day Mr. Schrieber was not able to revisit the earths, which had been duly blocked and stopped with faggots. On the second day he returned; a terrier at once went to ground and marked; spades were requisitioned, and in due course the end of the earth was reached. Here a female badger was found dead and cold; her companion whilst fighting with the terrier was captured. The badger which Jack had doubtless killed weighed 26lb., and on being skinned every bone in her chest and all her ribs were found to be broken, though she showed no outer marks excepting such as would be made by the dog's teeth, and where the latter had bruised the

flesh. On another occasion Jack found himself in an earth between two badgers, one fighting him in front, the other in the rear, but he did not flinch, and, as the diggers reached their game in less than a quarter of an hour, when they were safely bagged, the terrier was not much the worse for his unequal combat.

Powderham Jack came to Mr. Schrieber from Devonshire, he being purchased from Mr. Damarell, but Mr. P. Gilbert, near Birmingham, was supposed to be the breeder. In his early days he won several prizes on the show bench, and when grown too wide in front for the show, Mr. Schrieber obtained perhaps the gamest terrier he ever owned. During little more than the twelve months, from the time he went to Watford to when he received the terrible injuries. which resulted in blindness, Jack did more than his share in the capture of twenty badgers. On his sire's side he was descended from Champion Broom and Jack Terry's Wasp, but his dam's pedigree could never be ascertained. He was never known to give tongue underground unless he had either a fox or badger in front of him.

Some of the earlier wire-haired terriers were remarkably savage and bad tempered, or perhaps it was the writer's unfortunate lot to possess such. However, about seventeen years ago I had one sent