WHEN YOU'RE FISHIN' 



FRANK B. LINDERMAN. 



When you're pushin' throngh the willers, 



'Long a little babblin' brook, 

 Tryin' hard to steer yer fly rod, 



An' avoid the little hook. 



Don't swear. 



'Cause I tell you — an' it's gospel — 

 That the fish '11 never bite 



Fer a feller 'at says cuss words, 

 Let him fish with all his might. 



Don't swear. 



'Cause the trout '11 surely hear you, 

 An' 'tis said that if they do, 



Spite of worms, an' flies, an' patience, 

 They will never bite for you — 



■Don't swear. 



When at last the pesky thicket 

 You have safely gotten through, 



Torn an' bleedin' 'cause of briers, 

 Half devoured by skeeters, too, 



Don't swear. 



When the slender rod is whippin' 

 Flies and loops of line about, 



Tyin' knots about the bushes, 

 As you've seen it do, no doubt, 



Don't swear. 



But when all the day has vanished, 

 An' the sun's jest goin' down, 



When, with footsteps slow an' weary, 

 You are p'intin' back to town, 



Say, there! 



If your day of toil has brought you 

 Jest one measly little fish, 



An' your cup of joy is busted — 

 Bottom fell clean out the dish, 



Th^n swear. 



AMATEUR PHOTO 8Y DR. J. B. PARDOE. 



RECREATION. 



Highly Commended in Recreation's 5th Annual Photo Competition. Made with Wizard Cam- 

 era, Carbutt Plate, Zeiss Lens. 



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