Volume I Part 18 (1/2)
The black-and-tan setters in Cla.s.s 37 (dogs) were good; but in Cla.s.s 38 (b.i.t.c.hes) were still better.
Cla.s.s 39, setters (Irish dogs), was good. Curiously enough, there was exactly the same entry this year as last, viz., 14. Mr Stone, with Dash, spotted the first prize; Mr Purcell Llewellin, the second with Kite, V.H.C. with Kimo, and three others got V.H.C.
In 1872 the entry for Cla.s.s 40, setters (Irish b.i.t.c.hes), was 10; this year it was only 8; but they were the best lot that have ever been shown at the Hall, and so highly were they thought of by the judges that every one in the cla.s.s was highly commended. Here three gentlemen, probably the best breeders of the Irish setter we have, contended, viz.:--Captains Cooper and Allaway and Mr Purcell Llewellin. Captain Cooper exhibited three, Captain Allaway one, Mr Llewellin one; but the first prize fell to neither of these gentlemen, Mr Jephson beating them on the post with Lilly II., and Captain Cooper running a good second with Eilie; though neither were bred by the same gentleman, yet each was two years and four months old.
There were 78 entries for retrievers. For the best in all cla.s.ses (curly-coated), Mr Morris took it with True; he also secured the Champion Cla.s.s b.i.t.c.hes (curly-coated) with X L; second prize in Cla.s.s 43 with Marquis; highly commended in same cla.s.s with Monarch; first prize in Cla.s.s 44 with Moretta. So with an entry of six he secured three first prizes, one second, and one highly commended--good form indeed.
My old friend Mr Gorse, one of our very best breeders, took the champion prize in smooth or wavy-coated dogs with Sailor, four years old; and a fine animal he is. The spaniels were 82 entries, and some very good ones, too, there were among them. Cla.s.ses 55 and 56 were capital. Better have never been seen at Curzon Hall.
The greyhounds were a poor lot. It is not the time of year for hounds or greyhounds, as they are all at work.
The non-sporting and toy cla.s.ses were well represented. And it was amusing to see the excitement and hear the exclamations of some of the ladies on looking at the cages which held these beautiful little animals.
I have often thought how much better it would be if ladies, or others who want dogs, instead of sending to a London dealer, who is almost sure to ”do” them, were to attend such shows as Birmingham, the Crystal Palace, or Nottingham. There you can pick out what you want--always remembering you must give a good price for a good article. But, then, if you intend to exhibit, and you have a good animal, it will soon pay itself; and if you breed, the pups will see your money back.
Good as the other exhibitions have been at Birmingham, this must be considered the best; and with an entry of 944 against 911 of last year.
At the time of writing this--the 3rd December--I have seen no letters from disappointed exhibitors or others. But then, ”Bell's Life,” ”Land and Water,” and THE Authority (_query_) have not yet appeared.
The ”Times,” however, for the 2nd December, says it was a most capital show.
Both Mr Murchison and the Rev. Mr Tennison Mosse were conspicuous by their absence, but I hope to see them to the fore again at the Crystal Palace Show, with their unapproachable fox and Dandie Dinmont terriers.
Talking of fox-terriers, I have overlooked them. Not only was the entry a grand one (127), but the quality was good too. I love the terrier, for he is a sporting little dog, no matter what breed; but the fox-terrier is the favourite, if one may judge from the entries. But why other terriers, such as smooth-haired, black-and-tan, Skye, drop-eared, and others, Dandie Dinmont, broken-haired, wire-haired, and Bedlington should not be included in the sporting cla.s.ses, I have ever been at a loss to imagine. There is no better terrier exists to drive heavy gorse for rabbits than the Dandie Dinmont. He is the gamest of the game, and no cover, however thick, will stop him. Mr Wootton of Mapperley, near Nottingham, has a magnificent breed of wire-haired terriers, the best in England. For this cla.s.s (92), there were twelve entries; but Mr Wootton skinned the lamb, taking first and second prizes with Venture and Tip, and the highly commended Spot being bred by him.
Whatever sort of terrier Mr Wootton has, you may be sure of one thing--that it is the right sort.
I confess to a _penchant_ for the wire-haired terrier, rather than the fox-terrier, for the latter are now bred very soft and delicate--there is too much Italian greyhound in them for me. Of course I am speaking generally. Give me, if I must have fox-terriers, hard ones, such as Old Jock was--something that will stand wet and cold, the cut-and-come-again sort.
One thing I sincerely hope will be done away with next year at Birmingham, viz.:--the photographic dodge of advertis.e.m.e.nt, as was the case with Mr Price's Belle. It is quite wearying enough to inflict his long-winded pedigrees on the public, without the picture puff; and I trust the committee will see the necessity of putting a stop to this, or in a few years Curzon Hall will be turned into a photographic gallery instead of a dog show, which I hardly think would be pleasing to the visitors.
The next dog show of any importance will be at the Crystal Palace, held from June 9th to the 12th. It is to be hoped that the judges this year will be properly selected; but as it is to be held under the auspices of the Kennel Club, I suppose none but their own clique will officiate.
But let me hope they will see the folly of such a course, and that they will select judges that do not belong to their a.s.sociation--then the public will have confidence, which they will not if _members of the club exhibit_, and _members of the club adjudicate_.
HUNTINGCROP HALL.
”Reputation! Reputation! oh, I have lost my reputation!” It was, I believe, one Michael Ca.s.sio, a Florentine, who originally made the remark; and I can only say I sincerely wish I were in Michael Ca.s.sio's position, and could lose mine. It may be a ”bubble,” this same reputation; indeed, we have high authority for so terming it: but ”bubble” rhymes with ”trouble,” and that is the condition to which such a reputation as mine is apt to bring you; for it supposes me to be a regular Nimrod, whereas I know about as much of the science of the chase as my supposit.i.tious prototype probably knew of ballooning: it sets me down as being ”at home in the saddle;” whereas it is there that I am, if I may be allowed the expression, utterly at sea.
When, last November, I was seated before a blazing fire in Major Huntingcrop's town house, and his too charming daughter, Laura, expressed her enthusiastic admiration for hunting, and everything connected with it--mildly at the same time hinting her contempt for those who were unskilled in the accomplishment--could I possibly admit that I was amongst the despised cla.s.s? Was it not rather a favourable opportunity for showing our community of sentiment by vowing that the sport was the delight of my life, and firing off a few sentences laden with such sporting phraseology as I had happened to pick up in the course of desultory reading?
Laura listened with evident admiration. I waxed eloquent. My arm-chair would not take the bit between its teeth and run away; no hounds were in the neighbourhood to test my prowess; and I am grieved to admit that for a fearful ten minutes ”the father of ---- stories” (what a family he must have!) had it all his own way with me.
”_Atra cura sedet post equitem_ indeed!” I concluded. ”You may depend upon it, Miss Huntingcrop, that man was mounted on a screw!
Black Care would never dare to intrude his unwelcome presence on a galloper. Besides, why didn't the fellow put his horse at a hurdle?
Probably Black Care wouldn't have been able to sit a fence. But I quite agree with you that it is the _duty_ of a gentleman to hunt; and I only wish that the performance of some of my other duties gave me half as much pleasure!”
Where I should have ended it is impossible to say; but here our _tete-a-tete_ was interrupted by the advent of the Major, who heard the tag end of my panegyric with manifest delight.