In the early eighties Mr. Frank Butler, of Irish Terrier fame, and the writer had been out ferreting rats. On returning home an old cropped Irish Terrier bitch belonging to the writer had killed a hedgehog, which it was subsequently ascertained had been nicely dusted with cayenne, tied up in an old handkerchief, and put on a seat as a "plant" to win ten shillings from the landlord of the inn at which we called, who had a Bull- and Fox-terrier that he said would kill hedgehogs. The owner of the hedgehog said, "I'll give 'e a suverin for the Tarrier, mister," which, needless to say, was not accepted.

Without a good dog as guard, you may have all your locks, bolts, and bars to keep Bill Sykes out of your house should you leave it unattended, and then he will manage to pay you a visit. If you will only leave Paddy at home in charge, with access to every room, you need have little fear that your temporary absence from the house means losing your plate or any other valuables, for the wily Irishman is like the proverbial weasel, never asleep, and his keen nose and quick ear will not fail to detect a strange footstep, even if the would-be visitor is wearing the regulation silent shoes. And his angry bark will be quite enough to keep the intruder on the other side of the door. Nothing upsets the calculations of these gentry so much as a sharp Terrier. One might also feel perfectly safe on a lonely walk, night or day, with Pat as a companion. A well-trained Terrier will keep close to heel at night, and when strange footsteps are approaching you will hear him give vent to a suppressed growl, and if occasion arose you may rely on his cleaning his teeth on your adversary's trousers and pinching his calf in a way that would be anything but pleasant.

Only recently an Irish Terrier belonging to a labouring man showed the writer a very nice set of teeth through his inadvertently going too near his master's dinner-basket and an old overcoat he was guarding with a zeal it was a treat to see.

A true "Dare-devil" is obviously a workman, and as a sportsman he can give any other Terrier a start and a beating. He takes to all kinds of sport as naturally as possible, and it only requires two or three lessons with an adult dog when ferreting for a puppy to understand the game and kill rats as fast as you please. The wiry jacket, hardy constitution, indomitable pluck, and fine stamina, enable an Irish Terrier to work almost any other dog to a standstill, and, what is more, when he sees the gun or the ferret-box the next morning, he is ready and eager for the second edition.

The writer once visited a farm by invitation for an hour's sport killing rats. A friend was having a barley rick threshed, and when the bottom, or bedding, was reached the rats tumbled out thick and fast, and it was a pretty sight to see a brace of Irish Terriers and an old Sheepdog literally slaughter them. One of the Terriers poked his head into the short straw and brushwood upon which the rick had stood, and seemed to kill the rats two at a time. The trio were not long in accounting for 137. An Irish Terrier has such a punishing jaw, and puts so much dash into killing rats, that one sometimes thinks that they are out of place, and that such sport should be relegated to smaller breeds, for he not only kills them but smashes them with the same apparent ease as one could smash eggs with a mallet.

Without question, rabbiting is the kind of sport that the Irish Terrier excels at - the right dog in the right place, so to speak. A model Irish Terrier is a miniature Irish Wolfhound with a yellow-red coat, and consequently, being built on these racy lines, he is by nature specially adapted for rabbiting in every way.

When ferreting a burrow, a well-trained Irish Terrier will sit on the top, and he seems to know instinctively from which hole the rabbit is likely to come, and if the man with the gun fails to grass his bunny, the Irishman, at a given signal, is after him like a shot from a gun, and if the rabbit has no cover inside of two hundred yards, you may count him in your bag. The writer has repeatedly seen a Terrier of this breed catch rabbits in this distance on their own ground, and it is generally believed that a rabbit when he gets out of his form runs as fast as a hare for the first two hundred yards, and except the Bedlington Terrier no other breed of Terrier can equal the Irish Terrier for speed.

It is very regrettable that this good quality should be the reason for the dog being used for rabbit-coursing, a pastime much in vogue. No true sportsman would, however, care to be seen at one of these exhibitions, which are as cruel as they are disgusting. A rabbit is probably the most meek-hearted of any wild animal, and so timid and frightened is it when turned down in a strange place after spending a night in a sack or a box, or perhaps sent some miles by train, that he reminds one of a frog when he sees a snake after him. A Terrier weighing 141b. can catch a turned-down rabbit with ease; but let that same dog turn one up from his natural lair, and he simply would not see which way the rabbit went.

The Irish Terrier, too, has an excellent nose, and it is seldom indeed that he makes a mistake. If he stands to a hole, you may be sure there is a rabbit there. He will, too, mark the exact spot where a ferret is laid up with a rabbit. With a knowing turn of the head, first one side, then another, to try and catch the least sound, he will raise himself and pounce down on his fore feet, as if to say, "Here they are!" and after perhaps half an hour's hard work with a spade, you will find that Pat has told the truth. The Irish Terrier is very fond of the water, and will work a sedge-bed for duck or moorhen as well as a Spaniel.

A friend of the writer in Hampshire regularly shoots over a brace of Irish Terriers, and it is a treat to see them work - quarter a field like a Setter, hunt hedgerow or gorse, however thick, and retrieve to hand fur or feather as tenderly as a well-broken Retriever. In fact, if well broken, you cannot put them out of place at any kind of sport.