The Indian legend is a dandy, except that in Middle English the meaning of the word "toll" was, according to Webster, "to entice (game, esp. wild ducks) to approach by arousing their curiosity, as by the antics of a trained dog." And there are some who hold that the duck-retriever originated in Holland.
He is limited pretty much to Nova Scotia these days and is not too common even there. One of the most important fanciers of the breed is Avery Nickerson of Digby, N.S. Over the past 15 years or so he has owned upwards of 100 of these dogs, now owns eight. When he uses a duck-toller, Nickerson hides in a blind, tossing out a stick from time to time to keep the dog gamboling on the shore. After the ducks come in, Nickerson stands up, flushing them, and shoots them on the rise.
The dog's tail, incidentally, is quite important. It should have a white tip. So equipped, a wagging tail can entice a flock of ducks from as far as three quarters of a mile on a clear day, according to Nickerson.
HOW BLUE THE NOSE
The liquor laws of the various states are distilled from a sour mishmash, no two alike. In Ohio the law forbids not only the sale of liquor on Sunday but even its consumption in private clubs. The latter aspect of the law has been pretty much ignored until recently, when tavern owners, unsuccessful in their attempt to get a relaxation of the Sunday law, spitefully pressed for enforcement of the country club statute. There may be a bottle in the locker, club operators learned, but it must be unopened and its owner cannot drink from it on Sunday.
"Members are just not going to stay for dinner if they can't drink," sighed one country club manager. "It's going to cost us most of a day's revenue."
That is just what happened, a survey of clubs around the state disclosed.
Curiously, the courts have ruled that guests may drink in their hotel rooms, presumably on the ground that the room is the guest's home away from home. Many a thirsty Ohio golfer, feels that principle should apply to his club, too.
Big-game fishing off Cape Hatteras is more to his liking, but inland, near his home in Winston-Salem, N.C., Will Reynolds must make do with the little black bass. His problem: to make fishing for bass comparable to fishing for marlin.