Eelin’ On Ol’ “Lizzard”

Ef you want some lively sport

Of the really fishin’ sort,

Jest come down to “Lizzard Crick”,

When the ice gits plenty thick,

Down there in the “Bend” below

Where the pick’rel fishers go,

With a pole, say twelve foot long,

An’ an eel spear fairish strong,

An’ I’ll guarantee you fun –

Fancy fishin’ clean out done!

Eelin’ don’t appeal, I s’pose

To the fisherman who goes

Once a year way down in Maine

Where the trout an’ salmon reign

Supreme. But I ruther guess,

Ef you wanter git a mess

That will fill your spider plum

Full, you jest had better come

Where the eels lie good an’ thick

Underneath ol’ “Lizzard Crick”.

I’ve seen fellers year by year

Comin’ down with sled an’ spear

Where the “Ox Bow” swings around

Smack ag’inst the medder ground;

Seen ‘em cut their holes an’ poke

With a stiddy, proddin’ stroke,

Round an’ round the icy hole

With a limber, glist’nin’ pole,

Ev’ry minute throwin’ out

Eels “that long”, or thereabout.

Fancy fishin’ is all right

Ef you ever git a bite,

But when winter freezes all

Of your rivers great an’ small,

What you goin’ to do, jest set

Round all day filled with regret

‘Cuz you can’t go fishin’? No,

Git a spear an’ axe an go

With the “Gungy” fishin’ clique

Eelin’ down on “Lizzard Crick”.

Jan. 5, ‘08