In my cigar box is alot of old knives. Most are well known and respected marques, with names like Case, Hen and Rooster, Boker, Remington, with a Utica and a few old bone handled Imperials. But there is one old boy, with crimped on sheet metal bolsters, but thin carbon blades. Its one of those old 1950's Imperials that used to go for something under a dollar, and after a month or two one of the crimped on scales was missing. It was usually a boys first real knife, saved up for from odd chore money and allowance.
As a boy I used to be allowed to ( I was under the impression that it was a great honnor) tag along with my grandad and his co-conspiritors on hunting trips afield. Grandad and his friends were all hard working watermen, and after the catch was sold, some money put aside for boat maintanence, a bit for groceries, salted bull lips or eel as bait, there was not alot of money left. But he and his cronies all seemed to have very nice pocket knives. I guess it was male pocket jewlery, the one area were a little extra could be spent.
Granddad loved well figured stag. It was a hold over from his days when as a young man he went to sea on cod fishing boats out of the harbor on the west coast of Ireland. His old seamans knife was heavy grooved stag, and he said it was popular because it was a non-slip grip in cold/wet hands. When I knew him growing up on the Chesapeake bay he carried a Hen and Rooster stockman that was handpicked for the stag.
Some of his cronies had Case stockmen. The stockman seemed to be a popular pocket knife there on the eastern shore of Maryland. Most of the Case stockmen had well jigged bone scales, and I guess they found the jigged bone a sure grip as well.
It was funny to see them get together and take out their pocket knives to whittle, but looking out the corner of their eyes to see if someone got a new knife, and if so what it was. Pocket knives were important to them, and they would pass around a new knife for all to examine.
But there was one man who did not seem to care about the prestige of a nice knife.
Steve Decker was well known as the cheapest man on the choptank. He would never spend a penny more than absolutely needed. His boat had peeling paint and was called a scow by the other watermen. It showed in his choice of knife, one of those little crimped handle Imperials. It was well worn, but he kept it sharp. When grandad and his friends went quail shooting, there came a time at the end of the hunt when they would pluck and dress the birds. I would always watch with facination as grandad would take the plucked bird and make a neat incision down the breast of the bird. He would use the main clip blade of that stockman to remove the breast of the bird, which was where most of the meat of a quail was. The local custom was to salt and pepper the breast, dust with a little paprika, put a piece of bacon on top with a toothpick, and broil till browned. Add some hush puppies fried up and you have a nice meal.
Every time the birds were dressed after the shoot, either grandad or one of his buds would watch Decker use the little Imperial barlow, and just about when he was done comment "So you lost your knife and you borrowed your son's again?"
This would always result in a stream of cursing that would be listened to with great appreatiation as any art form would be. Decker could get very artistic. But he could fillet a breast of quail with the best of them using that Imperial Barlow. And quail shooting was a passion with these men.
The most popular gun among these men was the single barrel Stevens 16 ga. In the 40's and 50's the "sweet 16" was still a strong contender for the all around shotgun, and the Stevens single was the gun of choice of these thrifty working men. The guns were plain jane working guns, but put food on the table in a realiable mannor. They were also cheap enough that a couple could be kept around, so's not to be too far from a loaded shotgun. One on the boat, one behind the kitchen pantry door. Many an out of season duck dinner graced a watermens table. There was some old overgrown farm fields with thick bramble bushes growing along the old fence row. It was a target rich environment for bird shooters. Wearing canvas faced overalls we would kick along the fence row and the coveys would explode into the air. Sometimes quail would drop, sometimes not.
Exept when Decker would shoot.
For all his faults in not letting go of a penny, he was an artist with a shotgun. There was a rumor that he missed once, but it was never confirmed. When Decker would swing his shotgun, a bird dropped. Sometimes the ribbing would be that he was so cheap that he refused to miss because he hated to waste a single shell. If he was within earshot of this, you would listen closely for any new curse words. With that old Stevens shotgun and Imperial barlow, Decker ate many a broiled quail dinner.
To save money making those little cheap Imperials, they used a thinner steel stock. This was not a bad thing in a pocket knife, cheap or not. This afternoon I took that old Imperial of mine to a stone and reminded myself in the prosess just how hair popping sharp they would get. It brought back alot of memories of long past quail hunts, crisp chilly days, the flat report of a shotgun, and the taste of broiled quail and grandmoms fresh fried hush puppies.
As a boy I used to be allowed to ( I was under the impression that it was a great honnor) tag along with my grandad and his co-conspiritors on hunting trips afield. Grandad and his friends were all hard working watermen, and after the catch was sold, some money put aside for boat maintanence, a bit for groceries, salted bull lips or eel as bait, there was not alot of money left. But he and his cronies all seemed to have very nice pocket knives. I guess it was male pocket jewlery, the one area were a little extra could be spent.
Granddad loved well figured stag. It was a hold over from his days when as a young man he went to sea on cod fishing boats out of the harbor on the west coast of Ireland. His old seamans knife was heavy grooved stag, and he said it was popular because it was a non-slip grip in cold/wet hands. When I knew him growing up on the Chesapeake bay he carried a Hen and Rooster stockman that was handpicked for the stag.
Some of his cronies had Case stockmen. The stockman seemed to be a popular pocket knife there on the eastern shore of Maryland. Most of the Case stockmen had well jigged bone scales, and I guess they found the jigged bone a sure grip as well.
It was funny to see them get together and take out their pocket knives to whittle, but looking out the corner of their eyes to see if someone got a new knife, and if so what it was. Pocket knives were important to them, and they would pass around a new knife for all to examine.
But there was one man who did not seem to care about the prestige of a nice knife.
Steve Decker was well known as the cheapest man on the choptank. He would never spend a penny more than absolutely needed. His boat had peeling paint and was called a scow by the other watermen. It showed in his choice of knife, one of those little crimped handle Imperials. It was well worn, but he kept it sharp. When grandad and his friends went quail shooting, there came a time at the end of the hunt when they would pluck and dress the birds. I would always watch with facination as grandad would take the plucked bird and make a neat incision down the breast of the bird. He would use the main clip blade of that stockman to remove the breast of the bird, which was where most of the meat of a quail was. The local custom was to salt and pepper the breast, dust with a little paprika, put a piece of bacon on top with a toothpick, and broil till browned. Add some hush puppies fried up and you have a nice meal.
Every time the birds were dressed after the shoot, either grandad or one of his buds would watch Decker use the little Imperial barlow, and just about when he was done comment "So you lost your knife and you borrowed your son's again?"
This would always result in a stream of cursing that would be listened to with great appreatiation as any art form would be. Decker could get very artistic. But he could fillet a breast of quail with the best of them using that Imperial Barlow. And quail shooting was a passion with these men.
The most popular gun among these men was the single barrel Stevens 16 ga. In the 40's and 50's the "sweet 16" was still a strong contender for the all around shotgun, and the Stevens single was the gun of choice of these thrifty working men. The guns were plain jane working guns, but put food on the table in a realiable mannor. They were also cheap enough that a couple could be kept around, so's not to be too far from a loaded shotgun. One on the boat, one behind the kitchen pantry door. Many an out of season duck dinner graced a watermens table. There was some old overgrown farm fields with thick bramble bushes growing along the old fence row. It was a target rich environment for bird shooters. Wearing canvas faced overalls we would kick along the fence row and the coveys would explode into the air. Sometimes quail would drop, sometimes not.
Exept when Decker would shoot.
For all his faults in not letting go of a penny, he was an artist with a shotgun. There was a rumor that he missed once, but it was never confirmed. When Decker would swing his shotgun, a bird dropped. Sometimes the ribbing would be that he was so cheap that he refused to miss because he hated to waste a single shell. If he was within earshot of this, you would listen closely for any new curse words. With that old Stevens shotgun and Imperial barlow, Decker ate many a broiled quail dinner.
To save money making those little cheap Imperials, they used a thinner steel stock. This was not a bad thing in a pocket knife, cheap or not. This afternoon I took that old Imperial of mine to a stone and reminded myself in the prosess just how hair popping sharp they would get. It brought back alot of memories of long past quail hunts, crisp chilly days, the flat report of a shotgun, and the taste of broiled quail and grandmoms fresh fried hush puppies.
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