62 Old Days on the Farm 



He gives a jerk and o'er his head, 

 There goes a sucker 'mong the willows; 

 That's fishing." 



DOWN ABOUND THE BIVEB 



No doubt, dear reader, you have read and are 

 familiar with those ''Down the Biver" poems of 

 that nearest-to-the-heart-of-a-boy, of all the verse- 

 makers, James Whitcomb Riley. If you haven't 

 read those poems, better get busy. Life is brief 

 and you might miss the opportunity. If you 

 haven't time to read the lot let one in particular 

 soak into your inner consciousness. It begins : 



"Noon-time and June-time, down around the river! 

 Have to furse with Lizy-Ann but lawsy! I forgive 



her! 

 Drives me off the place an' says 'at all 't she's a-wishin' 

 Land o' gracious! time '11 come I'll git enough o' 

 fishin'!" 



YOUTHFUL FISHEBMAN's DBEAM 



I remember one day when I'd had rare luck and 

 bad a dozen or more fine large chubs on my string, 

 a full-grown fisherman with a classy fishing equip- 

 ment happened along. But, alas, he had no fish! 

 He eyed my string enviously and, reaching into 

 his pocket, produced a half-dollar which he offered 

 me for his choice of a dozen of my biggest. 



I recall that my heart went all a-flutter for I 

 had never before possessed, as my very own, that 



