Nothing To Do for Three Weeks

Nothing To Do for Three Weeks

I left long before daylight, alone but not lonely. Sunday-morning stillness filled the big city. It was so quiet that I heard the whistle of duck wings as I unlocked the car door. There would be ducks leaving Lake Michigan. A fine sound, that, early of a morning. Wild...
The Old Brown Mackinaw

The Old Brown Mackinaw

When the Old Duck Hunter’s Association, Inc., died, the hearts of many men fell to the ground. There was no one like Mister President. When the old-timers go there is no bringing them back, nor is there any hope of replacing them. They are gone, and there is a...