“I remember seeing a point that was both remarkable and comical, as it involved an acrobatic feature. I was walking down the side of an old stake-and-rider fence looking for a decent place to cross when my English setter Fanny, spying a loose rail with the near end on the ground, walked up it to cross. The rail was broad, and it rested on the top of the fence almost at the balancing point. As a result, when Fan got to the top of the fence, the rail tipped level. She, of course, teetered a little, uncertain what to do.

At that very instant the hot and heavy scent of a covey of quail just over the fence assailed her nostrils. She steadied herself, her feathered tail tipping up a little as it would when she came to a stand. But the rail would not stand. It kept rocking up and down, while Fan balanced herself, pointing, It would be hard to conceive, or to arrange artificially a little woodland tableau of this kind, and I hold it as one of my fondest recollections of my hunting dogs. Fan knew very well that her holding the covey depended on her holding both her point and her balance. Hers was a piece of spontaneous tight rope walking. She was still in position when I came up and made my shots on the covey's rise.”