|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
TROUT AND TROT.
Tom Trout, by native industry, was taught The various art—how hshes may be caught; To basket oft he'd pliant oziers turn, Where they might entrance find—but no return. But when he would a quick destruction make, And from afar much larger booty take, Through the quick stream he'd very shrewdly set, From side to side, his strong capacious net. And then his rustic crew, with mighty poles, Compeil'd the fish to quit their oozy holes ; And then pursu'd them down the rolling flood, Gasping for breath, and almost choak'd with mud.
Dick Trot, who liv'd below—ne'er thought his beer Was good except he had his water clear— He goes to Trout, and thus begins his tale :— Ah ! if you knew but how the people rail ; They cannot boil, nor wash, nor bfew, they say. With Avater, sometimes ink, and sometimes whey ; According as you meet with mud or clay. Now is it not a dismal thing to think-How we Old Trots must live, and have no drink r Therefore, my friend, some other method tak< Of fishing, were it only for our sake.
Says Trout, I'm sorry it should be my lot,
Ever to disoblige my neighbour Trot ;
The fault's not mine, 'tis Fortune that thus tries m
You know, "what's one man's meat's another-