There
are the times I set an’ think about the good ol’ days
I
uster fish fur pickerel jest down the stream a ways;
Jest
down around there in the bend protected frum the gale
That
swept along the river’s course an’ by the frozen swale.
We
had a cracklin’ driftwood fire close underneath the hill,
To
warm our toes an’ fingers which wuz stiffened with the chill;
An’
there we’d set an’ toast our shins so comef’turble an’ nice,
An’
spin a lively yarn or two while fishin’ through the ice.
I
set here by the winder lookin’ out acrost the snow,
An'
hear the wind a-blowin’ an’ it makes me wanter go
Down
yender in the river bend where everything is still,
An’
set some tiltups through the ice close underneath the hill.
A
score uv hooks set in a row with pick’rel takin’ hold
Will
fill a man with joy supreme an’ keep him free frum cold;
An’
when he pulls a big one out it makes his heart rejoice,
An’
life holds nuthin’ else fur him ‘cept fishin’ threw the ice.
I’m
all stove up with roomatiz an’ can’t go fishin’ now;
I
couldn’t cut a pick’rel hole, or bait a hook, I vow.
But
when I see the snow-white fields, an’ hear the wintry gale,
An’
hear the crackin’ uv the ice go thundrin’ down the vale,
It
makes me hanker for the crick, the fire-place on the shore
An’
makes me wish they’d Kerry me down to the bend once more,
An’
place me close beside the fire, an hour would suffice,
Where
I could set an’ watch
the boys while fishin’ thro’ the ice.
Jan.
18, 1901
A swale is a low tract of land,
especially one that is moist or marshy. The term can refer to a natural
landscape feature or a human-created one.
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