Sporting Classics Digital

March/April 2017

Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/787068

Contents of this Issue

Navigation

Page 187 of 189

184 • S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S Fattened in preparation for their southward migration, those teal were— without a doubt—the finest wild duck I ever had for dinner. Feeding on Merrymeeting's wild rice had given them more than fine, plump breasts; it had blessed them with a delicate nutty flavor that set my taste buds soaring. During each of the duck-hunting years that followed, I treasured no reward as much as the taste of those early season blue-winged teal. Jon Cole, Life List: Remembering the Birds of My Years, 1997. Submitted by Larry Freshley of Olympia, Washington. At flush, even my old ears have caught the wild twitter of wings, a sound that every upland gunner of eastern America will carry to his grave as a touch of paradise previewed. Frank Woolner, Timberdoodle, 1974. Submitted by Clint Judkins of Tremonton, Utah. A world in which a sacramental portion of food can be taken in an old way—hunting, fishing, farming, and gathering—has as much to do with societal sanity as a day's work for a day's pay. Thomas McGuane, The Heart of the Game, 1997. Submitted by Alan Charles of Helena, Montana. Gentlemen of the jury, a man's dog stands by in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death. From attorney George G. Vest's closing argument in a Missouri court case, September 1870. Submitted by John Reeson of Shakopee, Minnesota. If I seem to speak of each grouse and each woodcock and each pheasant as a special thing it is because I feel that way about birds. If there is one way I could influence the reader by the time he has closed this book, it would be to give him a respect for the bird that he pursues. The difference between mere killing and a glorious sport is the manner in which you do it—over thrilling dogs, in magnificent country, and with a near reverence for the game. If anyone can dig up something nice to say about me it will be: "He loved bird shooting, but more than that, he loved the bird." George Bird Evans, The Upland Shooting Life, 1971. Submitted by Anthony Suozzo of Shohola, Pennsylvania. Send us your favorite quotes from sporting literature and receive one free gift subscription for every quote that is published. Include the author, title of book, and date of publication. Send to: Quotes, Sporting Classics, PO Box 23707, Columbia, SC 29224 Quotes Earth has no sorrow that Earth cannot heal. John Muir, In His Own Words, compiled by Peter Browning, 1988. Submitted by Frank M. Possert of Kenvil, New Jersey. The true fisherman approaches the first day of fishing with all the sense of wonder and awe of a child approaching Christmas. Robert Traver, Trout Madness, 1989. Submitted by Lou Duncan of Sisters, Oregon. Once you have lost a dog—especially the first you trained from a pup, the one you first set sail into the world with—you can never fully give of yourself to another dog. You can never again look at a dog you love without hedging a tiny bit, if only subconsciously, against the day when that dog, too, must leave. You can never again hunt or enter the future so recklessly, so joyously, without that weight of forethought. Rick Bass, The Best Dog I Ever Had, 2000. Submitted by Albert Mull of Johnson City, Tennessee.

Articles in this issue

Archives of this issue

view archives of Sporting Classics Digital - March/April 2017