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212 SONGS, ETC.
THEN MOUNT THE TACKLE AND THE
Our sport is with the salmon rod,
Fine gut, tough ravel strings, A hook of the true " Kifkby bend,"
Dark-bodied with white wing ; Dark-bodied with white wing, my boys,
A yellow bob behind, And deep red hackle, fastened round
With tinsel well entwined.
Then mount the tackle and the reel,
Is now the fisher's song, For Bringham Dub and Carham Wheel
Hold many a salmon strong.
A south-west wind that steady blows,
A dark grey cloudy sky, A ripple o'er the waters clear,
To lead away the fly ; To lead away the fly, my boys,
There, strike ! the reel goes free, With a new run fish, as fresh and strong
As ever left the sea.
Then mount, &c.