DUK.
The duk is a foul. Thare aint no doubt about this—naturalists say so, and kommon sense teaches it.
THE FEATHERED ONES.
They are bilt sumthing like a hen, and are an up-and-down, flat-footed job. They don’t kackle like the hen, nor kro like the rooster, nor holler like the peakok, nor scream like the goose, nor turk like the turkey; but they quack like a root dokter, and their bill resembles a vetenary surgeon’s.
They have a woven fut, and kan float on the water az natral az a sope bubble.
They are pretty mutch all feathers, and when the feathers are all removed, and their innards out, thare iz just about az mutch meat on them az thare iz on a krook-necked squash that haz gone tew seed.
Wild duks are very good shooting, and are very good to miss also, unless yu understand the bizness.
You should aim about three foot ahead ov them, and let them fly up tew the shot.
I hav shot at them all day, and got nothing but a tail-feather now and then; but this satisfied me, for i am crazy for all kind ov sport, yu know.
Thare are sum kind ov duks that are very hard tew kill, even if yu do hit them. I shot, one whole afternoon, three years ago, at sum dekoy duks, and never got one ov them. I hav never told ov this before, and hope no one will repeat it—this iz strikly confidenshall.