his children to Martha: "They are going to pass us by, Mother. They are going to amount to more than we have." And then he would go to the window and raise the sash. "Old man?" he would say. And from the kennel would come a tap-tap that told he was heard.

And Tom continued to hunt with 10 Mac, alone now, for Nell had died of pneumonia. It was a good combination, the man with the damaged heart and the dog with the sightless eyes. Tom had to go slowly; so did Mac.

Gradually Tom worked out a series of signals which the dog understood. If there was a ditch ahead, Tom would blow once sharply on his whistle; if the dog was to turn to the right, he 20 would blow twice; if to the left, three

times. Sometimes, of course, the signals got crossed, and Mac tumbled into a ditch or ran into a tree. Then there would be a choke in Tom's throat. But these things didn't happen often.

It got to be a familiar sight in the community. Men from the Northern Hunt Club, men who attended the field trials on the Earle plantation, 30 came to see the blind dog hunt. Never was such a nose, sportsmen said; never such intelligence and sagacity.

"Shake hands with the gentlemen, Mac," the proud master would say. "They speak well of you." And the setter would go from one to the other and raise his paw, his head held high after the manner of the blind.

There was never a bright fire in the 40 winter that Mac did not share; never a home-coming of the children that he, as well as Tom, was not at the station to meet them; never a choice bit on the table after Thanksgiving

29. field trial, a contest of sporting dogs in actual performance on the hunting field.

and Christmas but that a portion of it was laid aside for his plate.

And so his days and years passed and Mac grew old-not feeble, but a bit slow and a little doting, as old setters become. He would lay his 50 head on Tom's knee and, unless Tom moved, keep it there for hours. The same was true of Martha; sometimes when she was churning he would stay until the butter came. It was as if he knew he didn't have very much longer to abide.

Then Frank Jennings came home, a doctor, with his degree. That was in the fall, just before bird season. 60 Because of the deficiencies of his early education he had had to spend the summer making up certain courses.

Frank was now a fine, tall, grave young fellow of twenty-eight, even handsome and distinguished. His ambition, he told his father, was to be a surgeon in children's deformities. To this end he hoped to get an appointment as assistant to a certain surgeon, 70 one of the most famous children's surgeons in the world.

Frank was a quiet fellow; "hoped" was the word he used, but the father knew it was more than hope it was ardent desire. He thought maybe he had attracted some attention, Frank said, and that his work had reached the ears of the surgeon. If he could get the appointment he felt that his so future was secure.

"What do you want to be a child's surgeon for; is it to make money?" asked the father. Frank looked at him quietly and shook his head, and that was all they said.

He left soon after that. Tom drove him to the station, the blind dog sitting in the foot of the buggy. "Don't you and Mother let your hopes get 90

too high," warned the young man. "There'll be a hundred applicants besides myself. I'll telegraph the result."

A few days afterwards bird season opened, and Tom and Mac set off after dinner. There had been three or four days of heavy rains, but now the weather had cleared. It was a gorgeous afternoon, high colors everywhere, 10 gold in the sky and in the frosty air.

As he walked along Tom was thinking of his boy and of his girls; for if Mac was growing a bit doting, so, perhaps, was he. Before him old Mac, head high, circled slowly, with everwagging tail. Suddenly, not far from the river, he stopped, and his tail stiffened. "Coming, old boy," said Tom. The birds rose and the gun barked 20 twice. One bird fell. The other recovered itself and, fluttering across the field, came down near the bank of the river. Mac brought the dead bird, and Tom Jennings, stooping first to pat the dog's head, dropped it into his pocket. Then they went on after the other bird, which had come down near the water.

The river made a sharp curve in30 ward near the point where the bird had

gone down. Then, forming the remainder of a letter S, it swept out again and around a curve. Below this curve it tumbled over extensive and dangerous shoals of rock. The rains. had swollen it, and now the roar from these shoals filled the air.

his nose telling him exactly where to go, followed, with wagging tail and pricked ears, toward that sharp inward curve of the river, where the banks had caved in and were very steep, and where the 50 current below made a sudden swerve, then swept outward again.

Again, after shaking it, Tom tried to blow his whistle; but the feather had not been dislodged and the roar drowned out the muffled sound.

"Mac!" he yelled. "Mac! Come in!" But the old fellow must not have heard; for Tom, hurrying along, his face crimson, saw the bird rise once 60 more and flutter over the brink-and then, over the same brink, went Mac.

At first, when the man reached the river, he gave a gasp of relief. Mac was swimming smoothly toward the bird, which had floated into an eddy. Maybe he would recover it there, and would not get caught in the current.

Only for a moment, though, did the hope last. The bird began to float 70 more and more swiftly, and old Mac to swim more swiftly. Then the current caught them, swept them far out, and, with ever-increasing speed, drew them around the curve.

Tom Jennings's heart must have improved during these years of comparative rest. Certainly he forgot that he had one now. By cutting across the bottoms he could reach the next inward 80 bulge of the river, where it tumbled over the shoals. Even as he ran, in the hope that someone would hear, he shouted; "Help! Help here! Help!"

But the roar of the shoals filled the air, and the trees rose above him as in scorn. Out of breath, he reached the rocks and looked out over the foaming waters. Then he made Mac out,

white seal. But only his paws caught hold. Then he slipped. Then he was lost from sight, and appeared again, and was lost again.

Below the shoals was a deep pool, with eddies; and here at last Tom, standing on the shore, saw him right himself and come swimming slowly, his head almost submerged, toward the 10 shore. "Mac!" cried the man. "Here I am! Here I am, Mac!"

The dog came on, and at last Tom, lying flat on a rock and reaching down, caught first the back of the neck, then the paws, and pulled him out. As he did so, Mac gave a little cry and, once out, staggered, and fell on his side.

Tom Jennings was sitting with the dog's head in his lap when the boy who 20 worked around the railroad station at Breton Junction found him.

"Got a telegram for you," he cried. "I went by the house and there wasn't anybody home. I heard you shoot just now and came to find you. Is the dog hurt much?"

"Run to the house," cried Tom. "Tell one of the men to bring a wagon, quick. Tell him to put a mattress and 30 springs on it. Quick, son-quick. Tell them they can drive across the fields. Bring them yourself."

The wagon came in a short time. Old Mac was lifted and placed on the mattress. By the easiest route they could pick they drove him home, and sent in haste for a doctor. But one of the rocks against which he had been, hurled had driven a rib into old Mac's side. And at eleven o'clock that night, 40 and in the parlor itself, blind Mac, at a call of his name by his master, tapped the floor with his tail for the last time.

It was an hour later that Martha discovered the telegram in the pocket of her husband's hunting coat, which he had thrown over a chair. They opened it and read: "Got the appointment. Love to you and Mother and old Mac. (signed) Frank."

It was Tom Jennings who had the stone put up, where it stands now at the head of the grave, in the edge of the garden. It was Tom who had the words put on-with the help of a sympathetic carver who knew old Mac's story, as nearly everybody in the country knew it:

TO THE MEMORY OF MAC,
A SETTER DOG,

WHO, BLIND FROM AN EARLY AGE,
YET DID HIS WORK IN THE WORLD
FAITHFULLY AND CHEERFULLY.
THE WORLD IS BETTER BECAUSE HE LIVED.

50

The reading of "The Blind Setter," besides giving you pleasure, has no doubt brought to you a new idea of the faithfulness of dogs and a better understanding of why they make good friends. But if you are to get the full benefit from this or any other selection in the book, you will need to pause long enough to notice certain facts. These will help you to enjoy more keenly and to understand more clearly what you read, and to train yourself in good habits of reading.

Introductions and Summaries. First, you should read and discuss in class "The Three Joys of Reading" (page 9) and examine the Table of Contents (page 5), to gain a general understanding of the aims and purposes of the book as a whole. As you look through the Contents, you will notice that each of the four main Parts centers about some one big idea, such as Nature, Adventure, etc. Every selection in the Part, whether prose or poetry, will mean more to you and will leave a more lasting impression if you understand how it, united with the others, helps to bring out the central thought of the unit. Before reading the selections in any group, you are asked to read and discuss in class the "Forward Look" that precedes it, in order that you may know in a general way what to expect. For example, as a preparation

for a full appreciation of "The Blind Setter," read "The World of Nature" (page 13). After you have read all of the selections in a group, you will enjoy a pleasant class period discussing the summary found at the close of each unittaking stock, as it were, of the joy and benefit gained from your reading. (See "A Backward Look," page 120.)

In addition to the Backward and Forward Looks, this book provides other aids to your reading, in the form of helpful "Notes and Questions" that contain various valuable features, two of which are explained here:

Biographical Notes. It is always desirable to know something about the author. When you read, for example, in the biography below, that Derieux took into his writing a great love and understanding of animals you know that his stories will "ring true.".

Questions and Topics. After you have read the selection through, in preparation for the class period, you will find questions that direct your attention to important points in the story, and topics for informal class discussion that will assist you in applying certain thoughts in the story to situations in your own life. Other questions point to the effect the story has upon the reader.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Samuel A. Derieux (1881-1922), a native of Virginia, is the author of some delightful stories of animals, birds, and insects, published in two books under the titles, Frank of Freedom Hill and Animal Personalities. It is from the former of these that "The Blind Setter" is taken. Derieux's interest in nature began in his childhood, when he liked nothing better than to ramble about the woods and fields, in close companionship at all times with his dog. In those youthful days the boy did not study animals, but he loved and watched and understood them in such a way as to store

up memories that would, years later, enable him to write intelligently and entertainingly about them.

After he was graduated from the University of Chicago, Derieux taught school for a number of years. Then, eager to become a short-story writer, he went to Columbia University to continue his studies. While Derieux was in New York City he spent many happy hours in the Zoological Park. To him "the trees and the grass and the rocks were a real country, and there was a never-ending interest for him in the wild folk in captivity there. They were individuals to him, every one; he always

spoke of them by name, and not a few of them remembered him from one visit to the next."

When Derieux's work first began to be published, in The American Magazine, readers of the periodical soon realized that a writer had appeared who could make animals in story as interesting as human beings. The secret of the new author's power lay in a "sympathetic understanding of all dumb creatures." It has been said of Derieux that when he went for a walk in the country he "never had to take a dog with him, because there was always some fine fellow ready to adopt him. I think he I could have stolen almost any man's dog. All he had to do was to stop and look directly into those dog eyes-and it was all over. The message of understanding had been exchanged, and that dog was his."

In 1917 Derieux became a member of the editorial staff of The American Magazine. This position he held until his death, a few years ago, at the early age of fortyone. Twice Derieux received the honor of having a story chosen by the O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Committee, to reprint in their annual volume.

In The American Magazine for August, 1922, there is an interesting article about Derieux, "A Great Writer of Dog Stories," by Mary B. Mullett. The Preface to Animal Personalities, written by Mrs. Derieux, gives an intelligent and understanding interpretation of her husband's life and work.

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS

1. How did Mac begin to show his intelligence as soon as he lost his sight? In what ways did the family help him? Account for the fact that Mac became a good hunting dog, in spite of his blindness.

2. When Tom Jennings discovered that he could no longer work hard, what did he plan to do? What made him change his mind? Mac had "whetted his nose"; what did Tom say he would have to whet?

3. Why had thinking and planning always been difficult for Tom Jennings? What new methods of farming did he adopt? Why do you think Tom and Mac were "a good combination"?

4. How did Frank and the girls show their affection for, and appreciation of, their father and mother? Why do you suppose Frank chose to be a child's surgeon?

5. Find at least three instances in this story which show that Mac understood what his master said to him. If you have ever known a dog of intelligence similar to Mac's, tell the class something about him. Give a brief sketch of the most interesting dog story you have ever read. Why do you think the "world is better" for the life of a dog such as Mac?

Library Reading. Pierrot, Dog of Belgium, Dyer; Bob, Son of Battle, Ollivant; Stickeen, Muir; A Wilderness Dog, Hawkes; "Heart of a Dog," Lampman (in Nature Magazine, August, 1927); Gulliver the Great, Dyer; Frank of Freedom Hill, Derieux; His Dog, Terhune; Baldy of Nome, Darling; Stories of Brave Dogs, Retold from St. Nicholas, Carter; Flash, the Lead Dog, Marsh.

Library Reading

Your interest in the various authors, aroused by reading their stories or poems in this volume, may make you wish to know more of their works; or your interest in the subjects they discuss may make you wish to extend your knowledge along these lines through directed library reading. For example, your interest in "The Blind Setter" may lead you to read other dog stories, particularly those by Derieux, which may be found in Frank of Freedom Hill.

You will do your class and yourself a real service by making a brief report, giving all the boys and girls the benefit of your individual reading. Your classmates will enjoy hearing you review in an interesting way a favorite book or a particular story in a book, giving the title, the author, the time and scene, the principal characters, and a brief outline of the story. An excellent end to such a report is the reading aloud of interesting pas

sages.

The public library is the source to which you will go for additional reading and reference material. In order to learn how to