 
ALONG the banks, at early dawn,
Trudged Nobbs and Nobbs's son,
With rod and line, resolved that day
Great fishes should be won.
At last they came unto a bridge,
Cried Nobbs, "Oh! this is fine!"
And feeling sure 'twould answer well,
He dropp'd the stream a line.
"We cannot find a fitter place,
If twenty miles we march;
Its very look has fix'd my choice,
So knowing and—so arch!"
He baited and he cast his line,
When soon, to his delight,
He saw his float bob up and down,
And lo! he had a bite!
"A gudgeon, Tom, I think it is!"
Cried Nobbs, "Here, take the prize;
It weighs a pound—in its own scales,
I'm quite sure by its size."
He cast again his baited hook,
And drew another up!
And cried, "We are in luck to-day,
How glorious we shall sup!"
All in the basket Tommy stow'd
The piscatory spoil;
Says Nobbs, "We've netted two at least,
Albeit we've no toil."
Amazed at his own luck, he threw
The tempting bait again,
And presently a nibble had—
A bite! he pull'd amain!
His rod beneath the fish's weight
Now bent just like a bow,
"What's this?" cried Nobbs; his son replied,
"A salmon, 'tis, I know."
And sure enough a monstrous perch,
Of six or seven pounds,
He from the water drew, whose bulk
Both dad and son confounds.
"O! Gemini!" he said, when he
"O! Pisces!" should have cried;
And tremblingly the wriggling fish
Haul'd to the bridge's side.
When, lo! just as he stretched his hand
To grasp the perch's fin,
The slender line was snapp'd in twain,
The perch went tumbling in!
"Gone! gone! by gosh!" scream'd Nobbs, while Tom
Too eager forward bent,
And, with a kick, their basket quick
Into the river sent. | |
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