THE FISHING HOLE
By Douglas Malloch
I know a dandy place to fish,
The kind of place that makes you wish
There never was no work or school,
An' all you had to do was fool
Around all day with line an' pole
An' pull 'em out of that there hole.
The Crick is swifter there a lot
But, to one side, there is a spot
Among the boulders by the hill,
An' there the water's always still.
There water-beetles like to ride
An' there is where the big ones hide.
A bunch of spruce an' cedar grows
Beside the fishin' hole an' throws
Its shade across that little pool
An' keeps it always dark an' cool
The hottest days—I tell you what
There ain't no better fishin' spot!
An' all you need is just a fly
An' keep it sort of driftin' by
So it will ketch the fishes' eyes
An', jiminy, how they will rise!
There ain't no place on all the crick
The big ones seems to be so thick.
The poorest fisherman, I guess,
Could go up there an' git a mess;
An' all you need is line an' pole
To pull 'em out of that there hole.
What's that? Where is it?
—Well,
You needn't think I'm goin' to tell!
-- Dr. Todd
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