Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/37



I'll bottom fish, or troll for pike, Or whip a trout stream, which they like; I'll spin a minnow, dib with drake, For fifty pounds aside, and stake With any piscatorial elf, Who 's game enough to back himself Some amateurs presume to speak Of mighty deeds performed at. I fear them not, alike I take From river, pond, from pool, or lake, The scaly tribe; and as for roach, I've caught enough to load a coach; With paste and gentles, malt that's stewed, How I have thinned that "red-finned" brood! Aye, and how justly proud I feel Of the mode in which I bait for eel. The Barbel mystery I'll unravel, Who poke their leather snouts in gravel. With bullocks' pith, their favourite grub, I've killed some hundred-weights of "Chub." For "Carp" and "Tench," when weather's clear, Wind in the south, and "wheat in ear," Of surface weeds just mow a bit out, And I'll be bound to clear a pit out. In fact, I'll meet the challenge gaily. Of any man excepting ";" Letters addressed, Post Office, Hull, Will find me always.