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Her Hearts Choice Rose Pearson Full Chapter
Her Hearts Choice Rose Pearson Full Chapter
T he sense of being quite at odds with everyone else in the room was
a rather unsettling one and Sara drew in great gulps of air in the
hope that she might be able to keep her emotions in check. Her face
was already sore from her fixed smile, and her hands were clenching
and unclenching as she walked around the room, hoping to keep to
the shadows. She was wearing her finest gown - at her mother’s
existence, of course - but her hair had taken so long to style that
she had almost fallen asleep in the chair. One large braid curved
from one side of her head to the other just above her forehead,
whilst smaller braids came from under it, pulling back until long curls
exploded, rushing down against her shoulders. Her eyes were clear,
but her smile remained forced. Sara was certain that she looked well
and certainly, no one would be able to state that Lady Sara had been
pale and wan.
“Good evening. Lady Sara.”
Sara started, whirling around and fully expecting to see some
gossip of the ton, eager to get to know exactly how she was feeling
at the news of Lord Coatbridge’s betrothal, but much to her relief,
that was none other than her dear friend, Miss Hannah Cartwright.
“Hannah.” Reaching out, she grasped her hand. “I am so very
glad to see you this evening.”
“I confess I am a little surprised to see you present. I would have
thought that you would want to remain at home this evening.”
Sara pulled a face.
“You have heard then?”
“Yes, I have done so. I believe almost everyone in society has
heard of Lord Coatbridge’s sudden betrothal. It is a little strange, is
it not? I thought that he was courting you!”
“As did I.” Sara tried to laugh but the sound did not quite come
out of her lips. “This has been a great shock to me. I would have
much preferred to remain at home and give myself the opportunity
to come to terms with this news. But Mama was most insistent that I
appear this evening. I believe she did not wish me to hide away,
thinking of my reputation, of course.”
“That must be difficult for you, however.” Looping one arm
through Sara’s, Hannah gave her a small smile. “But I am here with
you this evening. You shall be able to face whatever is thrown at
you, I am sure of it. You have enough strength of character to
endure.”
“I must hope so.” A slight wobble came into her voice, and she
looked away. “I shall tell you that I had come to care for Lord
Coatbridge. That may have been foolish of me, but after everything
that he promised me, I could not help but feel something. It was not
any sort of great love, at least, but I had been affected by what he
had promised me in terms of our future together.”
“I quite understand.” Hannah’s sympathetic voice was a balm to
her pain. “I can well understand that you wish to keep such feelings
hidden from everyone else, however. What he has done has been
the biggest betrayal.”
“I simply do not understand it. If there was an explanation, then
I might feel a little better, but as such there is not.”
“In that regard, his behavior has been very strange, I grant you.
I do not understand firstly, why he would turn his back on you and,
secondly, why he would betroth himself to someone else so very
quickly. There has been no obvious attachment between them, has
there?”
“There has been nothing whatsoever,” Sara agreed. “Not as far as
I was aware at least.”
“Not as far as the ton was aware either, otherwise it would not
have come as such a great surprise, and there would not be so
many tongues wagging.”
Sara rolled her eyes and Hannah sighed in sympathy.
“They are all eager to speak with you this evening. I am sure
that I have already heard at least three ladies stating that they are
certain you will be heartbroken. I was quick to reassure them that
you were a good deal more sensible than that.”
Sara smiled.
“Thank you for coming to my defense. Perhaps my mother was
right to insist that I attend this evening, loath as I am to admit it.”
“You must keep your head held high and a genial expression on
your face,” Hannah added. “They will all be looking at you.” She
stopped suddenly, her hand tightening on Sara’s arm. “Prepare
yourself, my dear. He has arrived.”
Even as Hannah tugged her into motion again, Sara did not need
to ask who she was talking about. Her stomach dropped to the floor
as they continued to promenade slowly around the room. She did
not look to the left, nor to the right, albeit with a tingling awareness
that Lord Coatbridge was present.
“Where is he?” she hissed. “Can you see him?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hannah glance over her
shoulder, followed by a swift intake of breath.
“He is walking towards us,” came the reply. “And he is arm in arm
with his… betrothed.”
“Then we must walk a little more swiftly,” Sara determined. “Or
mayhap we ought to stand somewhere quietly so that he can pass
us and make his way to other guests within the ballroom, who are
no doubt eager to see him.”
She and Hannah were about to do the latter when a sudden,
familiar voice reached her ears.
“Good evening, Lady Sara. Good evening, Miss Cartwright.”
What struck her the most was the joviality with which he spoke,
appearing to indicate that he was very pleased to see her, whilst for
her, he was the last person she wished to be in company with.
Turning around, she kept her expression cool, despite her
mother’s warning that she ought to smile in such a situation. When
she met Lord Coatbridge’s eyes, one eyebrow arched as she looked
back into his face, seeing the slight flush which colored his cheeks.
“Good evening, Lord Coatbridge,” she murmured, entirely
unaware as to whether or not Hannah had already said this. “Please
introduce us to the young lady on your arm.”
She did not look at the young lady in question, but kept her gaze
fixed on Lord Coatbridge, who had now gone a deeper shade of red.
“But of course.” He cleared his throat, and his voice cracked a
little as he spoke. “This is Lady Nora. Her father is the Marquess of
Westerly.” As he spoke, his eyes turned towards the lady and he sent
her a warm smile, which then faded as he turned back toward Sara.
“Lady Nora, this is Lady Sara and her acquaintance, Miss Cartwright.”
From the warm smile on Lady Nora’s face, Sara did not think that
she had any knowledge of who she was, in relation to Lord
Coatbridge. In many ways, she felt rather sorry for the young lady, if
she did not know of their connection, nor the tension that swirled
between them now. Had she truly been naïve enough to believe that
Lord Coatbridge’s interest was genuine in its swiftness? Had she not
heard that Lord Coatbridge had been courting Sara for these last few
weeks? Perhaps she had not been in society for very long.
“Good evening, Lady Sara.” Lady Nora smiled, her eyes bright.
“You are well acquainted with Lord Coatbridge, I hear?”
There was a gentleness to her tone which had Sara wincing
inwardly. Did this creature truly believe that there was only an
acquaintance between herself and Lord Coatbridge? Was that what
she had been told?
“Yes, we are very well acquainted.” Glancing away from the
young lady, she looked towards Lord Coatbridge, a little surprised to
see him drop his head. Was he embarrassed over what he had
done? Ashamed, mayhap? Or was it more likely that he simply
wished to keep Lady Nora from knowing the truth? “In fact, Lord
Coatbridge and I were courting for a short while.”
Lord Coatbridge lifted his head sharply, his eyes meeting hers.
The red in his cheeks slowly changed to white as he stared at her,
but Sara did not care. The injury he had caused her had been so
great that she had no willingness now to remain silent and permit
him to merely enjoy the happiness which came with being Lady
Nora’s betrothed. Nor did she want Lady Nora to believe that there
was nothing of significance between herself and Lord Coatbridge.
The young lady deserved to know the truth, she decided.
“You… You were courting.” Lady Nora blinked, then forced a
smile that did nothing to take the shadows from her eyes. “That
must have been some time ago.”
Sara opened her mouth to say that it had been only yesterday
and up until today, she had believed they were still courting, only for
a gentle nudge to catch her attention.
“That is something I believe Lord Coatbridge can discuss with
you. Now is neither the time nor the place to be having such
discussions.” Miss Cartwright spoke quickly, irritating Sara with her
determination to move the conversation on. “My heartfelt
congratulations, Lady Nora. Pray excuse me. Excuse us.”
So saying, she slipped one hand through Sara’s arm again and
half dragged her away from Lord Coatbridge and Lady Nora. Anger
built like a wave within Sara’s chest as she turned furious eyes upon
her friend.
“Whatever did you do that for? I had a good deal more to say.”
“But you would have been cruel to do so, and you are never
cruel, Sara. At least, I believe you are not.”
When they reached the other side of the room, Miss Cartwright
turned so that they were facing Lady Nora and Lord Coatbridge and
Sara followed her gaze. Lady Nora had pulled herself back from Lord
Coatbridge and was standing with folded arms, looking up at him
with an angry tilt to her chin.
“I understand that you are angry, and you have every right to be
so, but it would not be like you to cause another pain. Do not allow
your upset to bring viciousness to your actions.”
Sara drew in a deep breath, and her shoulders dropped as her
anger faded away.
“You are right, Hannah.” She was not callous, and yet had been
about to declare all to Lady Nora in the middle of the ballroom,
knowing the damage it would have done and the scandal it would
have caused. Lady Nora would have been gravely injured by what
Sara would have said, and she would never have been able to
recover from that. “My anger is directed towards Lord Coatbridge,
not Lady Nora,” she murmured as Hannah nodded. “You are right,
my dear friend. I ought not to say anything which would injure the
lady, although I do believe that she should know the truth. Thank
you for pulling me away.”
“I am just glad that I do not also have to face your wrath!” Miss
Cartwright chuckled, making Sara laugh softly in return. “Come now,
attempt to enjoy the ball this evening as best as you can. I believe
Lord Coatbridge will have a less than pleasant time of it.”
Sara smiled darkly.
“Which is precisely what he deserves.”
CHAPTER TWO
“I must say , that is the most fetching bonnet, and the ribbon
certainly brings out the color in your eyes.”
The proprietor smiled warmly as Sara tied the ribbons under her
chin. She had no need for a new bonnet, but it was a pleasure just
to be able to look at them, and try them on. Besides which, her
father would have no qualms if she purchased something for herself,
not after the trouble she had endured thus far with Lord Coatbridge.
“It certainly does.”
Miss Cartwright agreed, as Sara smiled back at her reflection in
the mirror. She caught Miss Cartwright’s gaze, seeing her smile, but
also the slight dancing of her eyes, telling Sara that she knew all too
well that her desire for a new bonnet came only to soothe her
injured spirits, rather than because she required one.
“I think I shall purchase it.” Waving one hand towards the bonnet
she had worn from the house, she smiled quickly. “Might you return
my bonnet to the house in place of this one? I think I should quite
like to wear this today.”
“Yes, of course.”
Obviously glad to have made a sale, the proprietor beamed at
her and agreed readily, commenting again on how well chosen the
bonnet had been. Sara smiled with gentle affection, aware that the
lady was doing all she could to encourage Sara to come back to her
shop again, at another time which she had every intention of doing.
“And I am most pleased with these gloves.” Miss Cartwright set
down the pair of silk gloves that she had ordered last week, and
which the proprietor had just delivered to her. “I have a ball
tomorrow and I certainly do require this new pair. I am afraid that
my current pair has a slight hole in one of the fingertips and I could
not allow them to be seen, particularly at my betrothal ball!”
This prompted a flurry of congratulations from the lady, who then
encouraged Miss Cartwright to return should she require anything
for her wedding chest.
After a short delay, they were able to leave the shop and stepped
out into glorious sunshine. Sara smiled to herself, tipping her head
up for just a moment before ducking it again under the shadow of
her bonnet. She did not want to have even one freckle, but the feel
of the warmth on her face was too delightful to forgo.
“I think this a very pretty bonnet,” she sighed. “Do you not think
so?”
“Indeed I do, although I do not think you purchased it simply
because of how lovely it is.”
Sara chuckled.
“Why then, pray tell?”
“You cannot escape my notice,” her friend laughed. “I do hope
that it has been successful in its purpose of lifting your spirits
somewhat?”
Laughing, Sara looked away for a moment as they meandered
slowly together along the street, keeping to their own conversation
rather than stopping to greet any other, with the footman and the
maid trailing after them at a suitable distance.
“Yes, I suppose you are right. I cannot hide such a thing from
you. It has improved my spirits a great deal and I find myself quite
pleased with the day. Indeed, I have forgotten about Lady Nora and
Lord Coatbridge. Instead of feeling aggrieved, I now feel almost
contented!”
“And all because of a bonnet,” Miss Cartwright laughed, linking
arms with her friend. “The blue ribbons certainly do match the color
of your eyes. I will say that,” Miss Cartwright added.
“And are you contented with your gloves?”
“Oh yes. I am very much looking forward to the ball tomorrow. I
am still somewhat shocked to imagine myself a bride! It is
astonishing in many ways.”
“But you are happy with your choice?”
Miss Cartwright nodded.
“I could not think of anyone other than Lord Millwood. I am more
than content. It is a very difficult emotion to express, and I do not
think I can satisfactorily tell you all that I feel for him! I do not think
I have ever been so filled with joy.”
A little surprised at the heat of envy rising slowly from the depths
of her soul, Sara patted her friend’s arm.
“Perhaps I, one day, shall share that particular emotion with a
gentleman of my own.”
“I am certain that you will, so long as you are patient.”
“Whatever has patience to do with it?”
Sara blinked in surprise as Miss Cartwright laughed softly, as
though she had said something foolish.
“It is to say that such an emotion does not simply appear one
day. Perhaps for some, they might feel a great and overwhelming
emotion initially, but the depths of feeling that I now experience I
believe will take a little time. That is where patience is required.”
“You have not always felt so for Lord Millwood?”
Sara looked at her friend as they walked, noting the smile which
seemed to linger every time Miss Cartwright spoke of Lord Millwood.
“No, not always. My dear Lord Millwood and I courted for some
time before he decided to propose. My feelings about him were, by
that time, so great that I was able to consider everything that I felt
and accepted him without hesitation, knowing that it would be both
a practical match as well as one of love.”
“You mean to say you told him all that was within your heart?”
A little surprised at the openness of her friend, Sara’s eyes
widened as Miss Cartwright nodded.
“Of course I did. Because we had been in such close
acquaintance for a long time, there had grown a great bond of trust
between us. I would not have kept anything from him for the world.”
The envy that Sara had battled with again rose up like a fiery wave
that she had to fight hard to push away. “That is why I speak of
patience,” her friend finished. “Such a close acquaintance can take a
good deal of time to develop. You cannot expect it to rush towards
you at great speed - although I have heard on occasion that it has
done so for certain individuals, even though that is not my
experience.”
“I believe that my feelings for Lord Coatbridge would have grown
still further, had I been courted by him for any longer length of
time.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“But that is good, is it not? It is good that your feelings were not
so very great, so that you have not been completely shattered by his
betrayal, although I shall not say that you are in any sort of enviable
position. I would encourage you to push against your mother’s urge
to match you with a suitable gentleman. Take as much time as you
can to find a husband who truly suits you. Allow the Season to go by
with great slowness and deliberation on your part and use that
inquisitive nature of yours to make certain that any gentleman who
seeks your affections is worthy of them.”
Sara arched an eyebrow.
“Are you saying that I am a little nosy, my dear friend?”
Again, Miss Cartwright laughed, but she did not immediately
disagree.
“I believe I used the word inquisitive,” came the answer, making
Sara laugh. “Come now, we are dear friends, are we not? I know
you well – and after our conversation this morning about Lord
Stoneleigh, I can already imagine what questions are in your mind
when it comes to him.” Sara attempted to find the words to
disagree, but her conscience forbade her from speaking aloud. “Am I
incorrect in my assumptions?”
Sighing, Sara shook her head, as they turned to step into a
bookshop. Dropping her voice low, she spoke a little more quietly to
her friend as they wandered among the shelves stacked with books.
“If you are asking whether or not I am thinking about Lord
Stoneleigh, and the injury to his arm, and whether or not he spoke
to me of it, then the answer would be yes. I will not pretend
otherwise.” She threw a smile to Miss Cartwright, but her friend did
not see it as she picked up a book, now scrutinizing the cover. “I find
myself wondering where he sustained such an injury, and why his
arm is still so painful to the point that he felt the need to speak of it.
And I find myself wondering whether or not he spoke to me about it
in the same way he spoke to you. Yes, my friend, I do have a great
many questions about Lord Stoneleigh!”
“I did speak to you about my arm before we began the dance.”
A deep voice made her jump in surprise and, when she turned
her head, there, standing before her, was none other than Lord
Stoneleigh. His back was straight, his head held high with one hand
holding his hat close to his side.
“I do not… That is to say…” Closing her eyes for a moment, she
took a breath. “Good afternoon, Lord Stoneleigh.”
Aware that she was fumbling for what she ought to say in such a
circumstance as this, Sara let her gaze dart around the shop rather
than looking into his face. How long has he been standing there?
How much has he heard from my lips?
“Good afternoon.” Lord Stoneleigh murmured the words, inclining
his head as Sara’s heart ricocheted around her chest. She managed
to drop into a quick, bobbed curtsey. “And good afternoon to you
also, Miss Cartwright.”
Sara caught her friend’s eye for a moment as she gave a soft
reply, only to then turn away from Lord Stoneleigh entirely - but not
before Sara had caught the redness in her cheeks. She had no other
choice but to turn her attention directly back to Lord Stoneleigh.
“Forgive me, Lord Stoneleigh, for what you have, no doubt,
overheard from me.” Sara’s face was burning as Lord Stoneleigh
looked at her, his eyebrows a little lifted. His dark brown eyes were
in sharp contrast to the fair hair which draped itself across his
forehead, and Sara struggled to look straight into his face. There
was a tightness to his square jaw, and the way that he dropped his
chin a little to look down at her was somewhat intimidating.
Choosing to be honest, she threw out both hands. “My friend has
only just finished accusing me of being much too inquisitive and
alas, I find that I must agree.”
“So it would seem.”
Lord Stoneleigh clasped his hands behind his back, his lips
pursing for a moment. His sudden change in expression reminded
Sara that she had spoken of his arm.
“Forgive me for my lack of attention last evening, my Lord. I
believe I was a very poor partner for you, and missed a great deal of
your conversation, no doubt due to my own feelings and
distractions.”
“You were preoccupied,” he agreed, shifting from one foot to the
other, his head turning slightly as she took him in. His expression
was inscrutable, and she could not tell whether or not he was
irritated with her, or whether he found the entire situation a little
mirthful. The broad shoulders and obvious strength in his frame
were entirely in contrast to Lord Coatbridge, who was rather slender
in his frame, and Sara found her heart quickening all the more. “I
have been informed about the difficulties which you faced last
evening, Lady Sara.” His hands swung back but she did not miss the
flicker in his dark eyes which came as he did so. Evidently, his arm
still pained him. Clearing his throat, he lifted one eyebrow as she
flung her eyes back towards him, only just realizing that her gaze
had been on his arm.
Tension burned the air between them.
“Pray forgive my inquisitiveness. I shall not be demanding any
answers from you, I can assure you.”
Lord Stoneleigh’s smile was sudden, bright, and took her breath
for a moment.
“That is a very great relief. I only spoke a little in apology for
being unable to dance with my usual vigor, but did not give any
particular details. Given your own situation, I am sure that you can
understand my reasons for doing so.”
His eyes were suddenly lit with a fire that Sara had never seen in
him before, and her embarrassment grew all the more. Pressing one
hand to his heart, Lord Stoneleigh bowed and, without another
word, turned on his heel and made his way from her company and
the bookshop itself. Sara blinked in astonishment, following him with
her eyes and wondering whether or not she had seen mirth his
expression, or if it had been something entirely different.
“Goodness, that was most embarrassing.” Miss Cartwright was
beside her again in a moment, clearly relieved that Lord Stoneleigh
had left the bookshop. “How much did he overhear, do you think?”
Grimacing, Sara let out a long breath.
“I cannot say entirely, but from what he said, I believe that he
caught me talking about his arm and the injury he has so clearly
sustained to it.”
Her friend patted her arm.
“Pray, do not give it too much thought. He will forget it soon
enough, and you apologized quite beautifully.”
Sara’s embarrassment did not fade.
“Perhaps, although I do not think he will ever ask me to dance
again.”
“Answer me this. After this situation, are you going to step back
from such curiosity?” her friend asked, as she returned her gaze to
Sara. “Shall you continue to wonder about Lord Stoneleigh and his
injured arm, or will you push him away entirely and focus on
something else?”
As much as she wanted to say otherwise, the truth formed words
on her lips, and she had no choice but to speak it.
Another random document with
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because his coat is white he is difficult to care for, which to a certain
extent, is the truth. His coat should be curly, but wiry in texture. In
action the dog is quick, proud and graceful.
The Italian Greyhound is another old breed; in fact he is one of the
oldest among the toys. He is in every sense of the word, a miniature
greyhound and good specimens are extremely graceful. Because of
his short coat and his generally slight appearance he is a dog that
will not permit of much exposure, though those who breed them say
that the Italian greyhound will stand the cold and the inclement
winter of the north as well as any of the toy breeds, which statement
is rather doubtful. For a clean, neat dog about the house, however,
he is very commendable. In the matter of intelligence he does not
grade up with some of the other varieties described, although he is
very alert and watchful.
The Toy Black and Tan Terrier is another breed that is rather difficult
to rear, although his short black and tan soft coat commends him as
an indoor dog, for he is clean at all times and only a slight brushing
once a day will keep him in condition. They have been breeding this
variety so small that most of the specimens seen at the present time,
have become apple-headed and they are as lacking in intelligence
as they are in appearance. However, a black and tan weighing over
ten pounds makes an excellent dog, many of them becoming keen
ratters, though it is to be understood that the small ones would not
do for that purpose. Personally, if I wished to have a black and tan at
all, I should take the Manchester, of which the toy black and tan is a
miniature. The breed is not very popular in this country or England at
the present time.
Among the toy terrier varieties must be included also, the Yorkshire,
the Maltese and the kindred varieties. These are very pretty
specimens for the fancier of oddities, but they require untold care to
keep them in condition, both as to coat and flesh, hence the time
spent upon them as house companions is scarcely worth the returns
that one obtains.
The Brussel Griffon is another foreign dog that seemed to evoke
considerable interest some years ago, but this breed also is an
oddity. He is a monkey-faced, hard-coated dog with the pronounced
whisker and the general wire appearance of broken-coated terriers.
His weight ranges to nine pounds as the maximum for “big” dogs,
while for the smaller varieties, it is six pounds. It may readily be seen
from this that the breed is more ornamental than useful, but a livelier,
more active little dog cannot be imagined than this diminutive griffon
whose place of origin is said to be Belgium.
The terrier family is a large one in all its ramifications, and the
embryo dog lover, wishing to possess one of this variety will have a
wide field to go over. The terrier should have more action than the
toy varieties and if it is possible, a place should be provided where
he can romp out of doors for at least two or three hours a day. If that
is not feasible, then he must be taken to some park or open place
where he can run and exercise, for a terrier that is kept confined is
as entirely out of his environment as a fish would be out of water.
KEARN’S LORD KITCHENER.
Among the many breeds of terriers, there are a number which enjoy
equal popularity. The Boston Terrier is the great American product;
he is strictly an evolution of this country and has grown in popularity
in keeping with his qualities. The Boston is a clean, well-knit dog of
trappy appearance, with a short head that is a mean between the
bulldog and the terrier expression, if such a thing can be. He comes
in various weights up to twenty five pounds, and, as a matter of fact,
one finds them going as high as thirty and thirty-five, for the Boston
is a mixture and does not always throw true to type. The present
accepted dictum is, however, that the maximum weight should be
twenty-five pounds. At dog shows the weights are divided by classes
under fifteen pounds, fifteen pounds and under twenty, twenty
pounds and not exceeding twenty-five. The demand for the smaller
weights seems greatest, but one finds more uniformity in the medium
weights—that is, from fifteen to twenty pounds. The Boston terrier
may be good for no practical purposes, but he is alert and will prove
to be a fair guardian of the home. The appeal with this dog is his
absolute trimness, his clean cut appearance, and his short coat. For
people living in flats he is one of the most desirable dogs. In
purchasing one of this breed it is well to see the dog before paying
the money. While there are unscrupulous dealers of all breeds, it
seems that more irresponsible people have taken up the sale of this
breed than any other. I do not mean by this that there are not a large
number of very responsible breeders, but it is the dealer—the vendor
of dogs—whose word cannot always be taken at face value,
therefore, in buying any breed, see that you are obtaining what you
are paying for, and in buying a Boston, be sure of it from every
angle.
THE SMOOTH-COATED FOX TERRIER,
CH. SABINE RECRUIT.
Fox Terriers, both wire-haired and smooth, are also very popular in
this country, the former probably more so at the present time than
the latter, although the smooth is much more easily kept, is just as
keen and alert, makes a varmint dog the equal of any, and as a
house companion has many advantages over his wire-haired cousin;
the latter is a beautiful dog when his coat is kept just right, but if not,
he is an abomination. Incidentally it may be said that it is both a
science and an art to keep the coats of any of the broken-haired
varieties of terriers in good order.
THE WIRE-HAIRED FOX TERRIER,
CH. PRIDE’S HILL TWEAK ’EM.
In temperamental characteristics there is little difference, if any,
between the smooth and the wire-haired varieties, and if the dog is
to be kept in the house mostly, perhaps the former would prove more
satisfactory. Prices of both of these varieties have been soaring here
of late, but this refers only to the show specimens. It is always
possible to procure a “waster” either because he does not conform to
the show standard in the finer points, is oversize, or for some other
reason. The fox terrier, as in fact practically all terriers, except the toy
varieties and possibly Bostons, are men’s dogs, and they can furnish
considerable sport if they are trained on various kinds of “varmints.”
In this connection it might be said that they take to this class of work
very readily, as they have been specifically bred for this purpose
since the earliest days.