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I remember my most successful day’s duck shooting was on a Sunday, in April of 1842. It was as ugly a day as I ever had the misfortune to be out in. The wind blew great guns and the rain was not backward in its .. to saturate my old velveteen I was sitting very miserable over the stove in my quarters doing over the locks of my double, which for want of anything better to do, I was cleaning up for the opening of the spring campaign, when a halfbreed who was frequently coxswain of my canoe in my ducking expeditions knocked at my outer door & on entering informed me of the arrival of large flocks of duck in a marsh on the lake shore some 5 miles off — spite of the weather I immediately donned my foul weather toggery, clapped my heavy double into-a waterproof case, and calling Dash, who was evidently aware of my intentions & was capering, eager for the fray, I followed Domenic ? to his canoe, which he had left lying at the wharf. After a 2 hours paddle against a heavy stream & wind, we made the edge of the marsh which was alive with duck.