Fish And Success

Suppose yew don’t git any bite

     When yew a-fishin’ go?

Suppose it’s hot, an’ fishin’ seems

     Tur yew most awful slow?

Don’t git impatient, man alive,

     Or go tur feelin’ blue;

Jest sot right there an’ hold yewr pole,

     An’ see the bizniz through.

Bime by some codger old an’ slow

     Will find his appetite,

An' git a=nosin’ round your bait,

     An’ bime by will bite.

He’ll bite, an’ take hold good an’ hard,

     An’ ef yew ain’t asleep

Yew’ll fetch him plump, right in the boat

     Frum out the wat’ry deep.

Thet’s jest the way success takes hold,

     Success thet’s worth yewr while;

Yew hev to set an’ hold yewr pole,

     An’ never swear, but smile.

He don’t come up wen firt yew cast,

     He’s offish, old an’ slow;

Bime by he’ll swoop down on yewr bait

     An yew kin say “hello!”

May 15, ‘05