Читать книгу Hoosier Lyrics - Field Eugene - Страница 12

When, in the halcyon days of old, I was a little tyke,

I used to fish in pickerel ponds for minnows and the like;

And, oh, the bitter sadness with which my soul was fraught

When I rambled home at nightfall with the puny string I'd caught!

And, oh, the indignation and the valor I'd display

When I claimed that all the biggest fish I'd caught had got away!

Sometimes it was the rusty hooks, sometimes the fragile lines,

And many times the treacherous reeds were actually to blame.

I kept right on at losing all the monsters just the same —