Quail shooting has been, but is no longer, an interesting field sport in Ohio. Wing shooting, while diminishing the aggregate number, by subtracting from each covey, does not often destroy the entire family, and under proper legislation, has its benefits and advantages, and generally insures the preservation of an abundance to propagate another season. The sport, also, to some extent, draws from the destructive spoils of the pot-hunter and trapper, making the birds coy, suspicious and not easily seen. True, there is a possibility that the sportsman with dog and gun may destroy a whole family by shooting on the wing. A chapter of this kind occurred to the writer. While riding along the road in a buggy with a friend, our pointer companion came to a stand some distance in front, with nose and tail paralleled to the line of fence. The birds rose by concert in line along the fence, while the rear bird, or first to rise was covered and fired at. The atmosphere was so the smoke obscured results, excepting that of a wounded bird crossing the road for a sorghum field. An effort was made to intercept and capture it, but failed. The friend who sat in the buggy and had a good view of the situation, declared every bird fell. A walk over the ground proved it true, as from the first to the last in the distance of about twenty yards or more, eleven dead birds were picked up. The next day on passing the spot, the dog came to a point on a wounded bird, which was captured and killed as a kindness. Here the whole covey was exterminated; but as the perpetrator felt “sorry” for the act, and did not intend it, and would never do it again, it should not be considered unpardonable. The quail is a bird favorable to the happiness of man and advancement of civilization, is of inestimable value as a permanent resident, for the reason he is independent of forests for the maintenance of existence and perpetuation. He is the bird of field and farm and the only one from which a single pair can produce and rear to maturity more than half a hundred young in one season, to present as choice morsels of food for the weary farmer and protector. It is comforting to the sportsman to feel assured there is one resident game bird the iniquity of the pot-hunter can not exterminate. So long as forests and mountains last, the Ruffed Grouse will be able to maintain an abiding place. And many are the pleasant reminiscences of the hunter connected with the pursuit of this wary bird; it is a sport once enjoyed can never be lost from among the sunny associations of the past. Even the name brings to view the ragged mountains, rocky ravines, shady dells, babbling brooks and quiet streams in forests, ripe with every shade and tint of autumn colors, quiet secluded places where nature reveals her sweetest charms in inimitable splendor that mocks the artist’s pencil and poet’s pen--the home and haunts of this beautiful bird.