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Show sseesjasssss o . M . , REAL FISHIN'. . H By Harold Goff. J don't think much of a silken line, H stretched onto a jointed pole; H That kind o' fishin', it seems to ine, H Ain't got the fishin' soul. " H i Jive me a taperin' slender birch, H With a line o' twisted thread H One that I've made myself at home "5 H And a piece of .sinker lead. H Take aw.iy all your nickel-platfrveels, - ' H Your machine-made floaters, too ; H A common cork, or a piece o' bark H Ike Walton made them do. H Can you picture old Ike with a gold- H tipped rod, "3 H And rigged out like a swell? H A -wicker basket under his arm, H And a landing net? Oh, hell! Across your shoulder's the place fer H your pole, H Not tied up in a bag, H As you trudge along through the H meadow grass H To a hole where the suckers drag. H A can ' worms in the back o' jour H pants, "s H With your pipe and a hunk o' bread, H A knife to whittle, a match or two 9 That's fishin', when ail is slid. H 5 j |