Pointer vs. Airedale

Dogs are expert in judging human quality. With a single sniff at a man's trouser-leg, they determine his social standing; one leap against his chest is enough to inform them of his character. It is more difficult fora man to judge of the excellences of a dog. He requires paraphernalia--ropes, lights, leashes, a specially constructed pen, an exhaustive training; often his fellows gather in great packs to observe his judgments, which they confirm with shrill murmurs or deride with rasping growls. Last week such a display took place in Manhattan at the annual dogshow of the Westminister Kennel Club.

For three days, various sorts of dogs padded around a sawdust circle-terriers, shepherds, spaniels, collies, retrievers, chihauhuas, whippets, elk-hounds, greyhounds, wolfhounds, setters, pointers, pinschers, griffons, poodles, pugs, Newfoundlands, Pomeranians, beagles, basset hounds, bulldogs--while humans in corresponding variety watched them with admiring gaze. At last, after many ribbons had been awarded, it was time to decide which was the best dog of all.

Into the ring were led four animals of splendid family, physique and decorum. To gain entrance into that final class, a dog must have been recognized as superior to all other dogs of his kind. The four were: Governor Moscow, pointer, owned by Robert F. Maloney--a lean, piebald dog, massive-boned, with dark shelves under his eyes indicating his aristocratic birth. His tail stood out behind him like a dandy's cane, lacquered in black and white.

Westphalia Princessin, Doberman pinscher, owned by Ilisa V. D. Konigstad-- a dog with a sly,. Teutonic face, ribald yet alert, lifting her pointed ears sharply, pricking up the small black stump which, instead of a tail, adorned the termination of her vertebrae.

War Bride, airedale, owned by the Davishill Kennels--a beautiful bitch, champion of an airedale class in which there were 2,097 entries. Her body was a tapering cone, her forelegs struts, her hindlegs coiled springs. Sunny Meade Petit Poilu, Brussels griffon, owned by Mrs. William D. Goff, strutted among the others, well knowing that he would have made but a scant meal for any one of them, but looking at the mountainous beasts, his rivals, with a gaze of bleak hauteur. Long silky hair clothed his bandy legs in elegance and provided him with a beard which would have commanded respect from a Saxon monarch.

While the four paraded, dog fanciers noted down their last wagers. "War Bride will win," said the crowd. Is not the Airedale the most popular breed in the U. S.?

The judges had the dogs lined up now; they called out War Bride and Governor Moscow for a last turn, conferred a moment, came forward with a blue ribbon. "Who's getting it-the bitch?" queried dog-fanciers, craning their necks. No, for War Bride was back in line. It was Gov- ernor Moscow; he was the champion of champions. For the first time in over 25 years, a pointer had won the Kennel Club show.*

-- Barberry Hill Bootlegger--last year's prize dog--did not compete.