This hilarious story, from The Outing magazine of April 1908, combines a pair of recurring interests of this blog, tin boats and duck punts:
BILL'S DUCK BOAT
BY N. H. CROWELL
UNCLE EZRA threw back his head  and indulged in a mirthful cackle.  "Any o' you fellers ever try huntin' ducks  in one o' them sheet-iron coffins they call  duck boats?" he inquired, as he bent forward  and shook his head in a paroxysm  of reminiscent delight.
We plead not guilty with suspicious  unanimity, whereupon Uncle Ezra assumed  an air of conscious superiority.
"Don't do it boys—don't resk it," he  said, "I've been up agin it an' escaped with  nothin' more 'n a few triflin' internal injuries  but you might get worse. Bill Fikes  was th' party that led me into it. He'd  been postin' up on them newfangled  sportin' idees an' one day he corners me  an' says he'd bought a boat to hunt ducks  in."
'Why, you've got half a dozen old  scows down to th' docks now,' says I,  'What do you want another for?'  "'This is a duck boat,' Bill says, 'It's  right up-to-date. Made o' tin!'
"'Tin!' I says.  "Then I stole a whiff o' Bill's breath to  see if he hadn't been takin' on a cargo but  he proved an alibi by a hair.
"'I'll believe it when I see it, Bill,' says  I, wanderin' on.
"About a week after that Bill give me  th' Injun sign an' led me down to th'  landin'. There was his boat—floatin' as  high as th' stock of a Texas oilwell. It was  painted th' color of a bricklayer's overalls  an' looked to be as peaceful an' innercent  as a buck Injun before bein' mixed with  alcohol.
"'Get in,' says Bill, jest like he was  tenderin' me a brick block or a sleepin' car.
"Thanks, guess I will,' says I."  Here Uncle Ezra stopped abruptly and  clutched his jaw with both hands to keep  from bursting into a roar of laughter — it  got up as far as his throat but he manfully  choked it down.
"Gettin' into a tin duck boat is somethin'  like playin' th' hoss-fiddle—got to be  studied in privit first. Bill's boat was  snugglin' up alongside th' dock, down  about a foot an' a half an' lookin' as invitin'  as a bald head to a hoss-fly. Bein'  familiar with th' general run o' Bill's catamarans  I stepped in sorter careless like,  jest like you'd step onto th' kitchen floor  on a dark mornin', a trifle easy but expectin'  it to be there when you landed.
"But I hadn't more 'n touched it when it  changed ends or somethin' an' when I  come down with th' other leg I missed it by  a good half a yard. I went right to th'  bottom, got a mouthfull o' mud an' came  right back with haste an' a poor pen. As  I come up th' boat was watchin' for me an'  banged me two good ones on th' ear before  I could fight it off.
"Bill's eyes were stickin' out till you  could have hung your boots onto 'em an'  he says.  "'What're ye tryin' to do, Ez — scuttle  my boat?'
"'If I had a hatchet I'd show ye !' says  I, after gettin' th' seaweed out o' my teeth.  "Bill helped me onto th' dock an' I asked  'im if he'd had th' pleasure o' gittin' into  th' boat yet. He scratched 'is head a bit  pertendin' to think. Finally he says:  "'I believe not, Ez.'
"'Well, here's five dollars for you if  you'll get in now,' says I, producin' my  roll an' dissectin' off a V.
"Bill turned a little pale but begun to  peel 'is coat.
"'Hold on, Bill! Keep your clothes on  — I did!' I says,  "After hesitatin' a little Bill put 'is coat  back on an' moistened 'is hands. Then  he set down on th' dock an' stuck 'is feet  down into th' waist o' th' boat.
"'Better go an' get a derrick to let you  down with, hadn't I?' I remarks, scornful  as vinegar.
"Bill didn't reply but drawed a long  breath an' slid off th' dock. He looked  about as brave as a man goin' to th' 'lectric  chair.
"I thought Bill was goin' to make it but  jest then I noticed th' boat sidestep like a  scairt featherweight an' Bill set right down  on th' lake. I caught 'im by th' hair as he  come to th' top an' separated 'im from a  good handful gettin' 'im back to th' planks.
"That's a fine boat for any one that's  tired o' life,' says I, after we'd stood an'  dripped a while. Bill groaned like th'  landlady had jabbed 'im with a hatpin.
"'It's all right after you're in it,' he  says.  "'Maybe th'receipt tellin' how to get  into it comes by mail, Bill. Shall we go up  to th' post office?' says I, tryin' to cheer  'im up some.
"But he never paid no attention. His  face was all puckered up studyin' th'  question. All of a sudden he give a joyful  little cough an' says:  "'I've got th' answer, Ez! It's as easy  as drivin' nails into a featherbed. Here  goes!'
"Bill got down on 'is chest on th' dock,  reached over an' got a good holt of th'  middle seat with 'is hands.  "Funny I didn't think of this before,'  says he, 'it's a snap!'  "Then he started to lower himself off th'  dock slow an' easy. When he'd got a little more 'n half of 'im over th' edge somethin'  went plunk into th' water under  Bill's nose.
"'What was that?' says he, kinder rattled.  "'Sounded like your pocketbook,' says I.  "Bill took a quick look back at me be  tween 'is knees an' emitted a painful groan.  After studyin' a minute he let go with one  hand an' reached back to feel of 'is pocket.
"While he was doin' that th' boat  started for th' open sea—it started so  blame quick that th' first thing I see was  Bill stretched out like a rubber band betwixt  th' dock an' th' boat an' strainin'  every muscle in 'im to keep from lettin'  'is stomach drag in th' water.
"'That's fine, Bill,' says I. 'What's th'  next step?'  "He gave me a murderous look an' th'  boat slid out three inches more leavin' Bill's  toes hangin' to about a half an inch o' dock.
"'Reel me in, you brindle-whiskered  porch-climber!' Bill yells, in a tone that  would have corroded zinc.  "I saved 'im from the jaws of a lovely  duckin' an' th' minute he got 'is wind he  wanted to fight. Had all I could do to  ca'm 'im down an' explain that I was perfectly  innercent.
"'Bill,' I remarks, 'you'd better write  that boat crowd an' find out how to occupy  that craft. Th' only way I see now is to  put it on th' dock, get in, an' then saw th'  dock in two. She might turn a handspring  even then.'  "Bill groaned an' said he'd catch th'  sciatica if he didn't go home an' change  'is clothes so we dispersed.
"Afterward Bill traded th' boat to a  farmer for a veal calf an' th' calf got into  th' kitchen an' butted th' cook so severe  she struck for higher wages on th' spot.  Bill now says if any man tries to sell, trade,  give or otherwise hurl a tin boat onto  'im he will feel compelled to shoot in self  defense.
"Bill says he never——"  Just then the speaker caught the beckoning  finger of a robust gentleman behind  the refreshment stand and he mounted to  his legs and went across to see about it.
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