‘“Smoke-Screens’”’ 
LD? you remembaire las’ year at de 
gun club w’en we shoot doubles 
traps, w’en we ’ave fun wit’ Frank La 
Bine? No? Well, I tell you. I make 
bets wit’ heem dat I will break more 
doubles target dan heem. So, jus’ to 
’ave fun I tell dose nudders fellow w’at 
I am to do. Jus’ before we are to 
shoot I take hes gun by meestake—may- 
bee—an’ I load bot’ barel wit’ strong 
goose-load, number twos shot, an’ black 
powdaire. 
Vaire soon she start to flyin’ aroun’ 
an’ yell dat somebodes ’ave steal hes 
gun. So I tell heem, “Well, well, I 
believe I ’ave your gun. Et es jus’ 
like my gun, you know. Will you bring 
my gun from de car, please?” So she 
bring my gun an’ han’ to me an’ take 
hes own gun, an’ I tell heem, “I ’ave 
already load you gun, so you can give 
to me couple of your shell.’”’ So, w’en 
she give to me dose shells we are ready 
to shoot. Frank es on post number 
wan an’ I am on number two. Every- 
bodee es stan’ around’ wit’ wide smile 
to give heem de horses laugh. 
W’en she is all ready she yell, “Pull!” 
Out go two blue rock fine, vaire fine. 
Dere es no wind an’ et es jus’ right. 
Frank shoot wan tam’. My gosh! Dat 
w’ite smoke fly all over dat countree. 
An’ dat gun fly back to heem, an’ she 
miss dat bird. An’ dere es so much 
smoke hat she don’ can even see dat 
bird numbe two ontil et es almos’ down, 
den she shoot again, an’ miss too. 
Well, she jus’ look at me an’ say, 
“Dat’s alright. Nev, min’. Dat’s al- 
right.” 
En about one half hour, w’en dat 
smoke es gone from here we finish dat 
shoot, an’ I am wan more bird dan 
heem. Frank jus’ look at me an’ say, 
“Dat’s alright. Nev’ min’. Dat’s al- 
right.” 
Well, I tell heem she can make lots 
money an’ she wan’ know how, an’ I 
tell heem she can join Uniteds Stats 
Navy an’ be smoke screen. 
“Dat’s alight. Nev’ min’. Dat’s al- 
right,” she tell me. An’ w’en she talk 
like dat an’ look at me like dat, I know 
dat someday somet’ing’ es goin’ to ’ap- 
pen to me. 
ee Te ee te 
So, et es only las’ fall dat LaBine 
will go wit’ me up to Grant Lake en 
Canada, near Wennipeg, to shoot dose 
canvas backs duck. W’en we are en 
Wernipig we get all fix up. We ’ave 
license, an’ shell, an’ we goin’ to stay 
Frank LaBine Gets Even 
By FRANK RORKE 
out long tam’, maybee twe’ve day, may- 
been wan week, I don’ know. 
Dat fellow dat sell me dat license 
tell me be vaire careful. Don’ shoot 
more dan tointy-fave duck every day. 
Don’t shoot on Sunday, she tell me. 
Vaire good law en Canada, but don’ 
shoot on SUNDAY. Vaire nice peo- 
ples en Canada, but, don’ shoot on 
SUNDAY, she tell me. 
Well, vaire soon we are out to Grant 
Lake an’ we ’ave good camp dere. Wan, 
two, t’ree nudder fellow es dere, 
too, an’ dey es vaire nice. Wan fellow 
es goin’ take me out en de boat to shoot, 
an’ she tell me: ‘‘W’ere do you wan’ 
your hide?” Dat soun’ queer to me, 
but I jus’ tell heem, “Oh, I will keep 
heem right wit’ me, t’ank you.” Dose 
fellow all laugh at me, an’ wan explain 
dat en Canada de duck blind es call de 
“hide.” Well, ?ow can I know? 
Well, we are here long tam, four, 
five day maybee, I don’ know. W’en 
I ’ave good tam’ I forget ’ow many day. 
Den everybodee seem to get tire’. Dey 
don’ get up so early en de morning, 
dey don’ work so ’ard all day, an’ dey 
don’ get so many duck. One morning 
I tell Frank I mus’ go out on de lake 
an’ get some canvas backs duck for 
Sunday dinner tomorrow. An’ she tell 
me, “Sunday dinner, tomorrow? Well, 
go ahead. I am tire’ an’ don’ feel good, 
me. I don’ go out dese morning.” 
Well, I am on de nudders side dat 
lake an’ ’ave good tam’. I ’ave twe’ve 
nice canvas backs ducks, w’en some 
fellow drive up near me an’ say, “Good 
morning; say, dere es somewan en town 
would like to see you ef you can come 
en.” An’I say, “Sure, I shall be vaire 
glad to see anybodee w’at I know.” 
You see, I live one tam’ four year en 
Wennipeg, an’ I t’?ink me deese es some 
ol’ frien’ who wan’ to see me. Well, 
w’en we ride aw’ile I ask heem w’at es 
de name who wan’ to see me, an’ she 
tell me de name es Judge. Well, I 
don’ can remembaire dat name, but I 
t’ink she es somebodee I know long 
tam’ ago. An’ w’en I ask heem about 
hes name she tell me et es Wardon, 
but I don’t know heem too. 
Vaire soon we are en Wennipig an’ 
drive up to place like small hotel an’ 
go en, but enside et look more like 
school house. Well, Mr. Wardon show 
me w’ere to go to fin’ dese man Judge, 
an’ w’en we are here, Mr. Wardon say, 
“Judge, dese es de man.” So I walk 
right up an’ hol’ out my han’ an’ say, 
“Well, well, es dat you? Well, I can 
hardlee know you.” But she don’ 
shake han’. She jus’ set dere an’ look 
at me hard, like school teacher. Den 
she ask w’at es my name, an’ I tell 
heem. Den she tell me dat es vaire 
nice canvas backs duck w’at I ’ave. 
Den she ask me do I shoot dose duck, 
an’ I start to tell heem. 
“You bet I shoot dose duck. W’en 
you wan’ duck you shall jus’ tell me. 
I am de bes’ duck shots en my coun- 
tree. Dese beeg ducks, dese wan here, 
dese morning she try to come over me, 
up ’igh an’ goin’ vaire fast too, I tell 
you—” 
Bang! Bang! Dat Mr. Judge poun’ 
hard on hes table wit’? wood hammer, 
but w’en I talk, a few noises don’ make 
any difference, so I tell heem: 
“An’ w’en she es right over me I 
shoot wan tam’, don’ get heem, I shoot 
some more an’ she comes down smack 
en de lake an’ den—” 
Bang! Bang! Dat wood hammer 
come again, an’ I t’ink me dese man 
Judge es don’ vaire polite like small 
boy. But I tell heem anyway: 
“W’en I go to get dat ducks dat lake 
es—es—w’at you call too much water 
—flood? Yes, An’ I ’ave—” 
Den dat man Judge jus’ stan’ right 
up an’ yell to me. “Order! Order!” 
An’ dat soprize me so I yell back, “Or- 
der w’at? I don’ wan’ not’ing.” Well, 
she jus’ set down an’ look at me for 
about fave minute, den she tell me, 
“Perhaps not, but et es goin’ cos’ you 
ten dollaire, anyhow.” Den she tell 
Mr. Wardon come to me to get dose ten 
dollaire, an I ask heem wat es et for, 
an’ she tell me, “For ’tempt de court.” 
Well, I am stubborn, an’ I say, “Well, 
try fave on heem firs’.”” But she es 
jus’ as bad stubborn like me, and she 
laugh an’ tell me et mus’ be ten. 
My gosh! I jus’ begin to understan’ 
dat dese es court-house, dese es de 
judge, an’ I am arrest. So I tell de 
judge, please explain, I don’ onder- 
stan’, me. So she tell me, “You ’ave 
jus’ tell me dat you ’ave shoot twe’ve 
nice canvas backs duck dese morning?” 
An’ I tell heem, “Dat’s es right.” 
She tell me, “Well, dese morning, 
dese afternoon, right now, immediate, 
all day, es Sunday! SUNDAY! SUN- 
DAY!! Can you understan’ dat, you 
Italian dumbbell?” Now, dat make me 
mad, to call me Italian dumbbell w’en 
I am French all de tam’, but I remem- 
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