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ON ANGLING. |
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I warning took, and on a rail I, like the bird in nursery tale, What wagged about his little tail,. Perch'd me up for fishing.
With rods and lines, ike.
But, sad mischance, the rail was old. It broke, and down the bank I roll'd — Look here! I'm sure I shall catch cold,
From going out a fishing. The mud was soft, my legs are thin, And farther I kept sinking in, Untill I thought 'twould reach my chin,
When we went out a fishing. At last says I, this will not suit ; So out I bawls, when Muggs, the brute, He lugg'd me out, but left my boot,
Where I had been a fishing.
With rods and lines, &c.
At two o'clock, the hour agreed, We sat us down, ourselves to feed, But fortune was unkind indeed,
When we were out a fishing; For Crabb. to whom the prog did fall, Forgot the pie, the beef, and all, And bottled off three quarts of small—
What stuff for us a fishing. |
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