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THE LITTLE FISHERMAN
written by: Helen Dowd
THE LITTLE FISHERMAN
I once knew a lad who loved fishing.
At school he would sit there just wishing
.....To be out with his line,
.....To forget about time.
Oh what angling hour hours he was missing.
Well, one day he thought he would wander
To find a new stream ‘way out yonder.
.....Some bait he did dig;
.....Then he picked up his rig.
With his dog, oh the day he would squander.
Down the trail, to the train tracks, did he amble.
There below, amongst bush, shrub and bramble,
.....Lay a bubbling brook.
.....With excitement he shook
As his rod, line, and hook he unscrambled.
So the lad sat perched on the trestle,
His mind on the fish he would wrestle.
.....With the line in the brook,
.....And the worm on the hook,
He was deaf to the piercing train whistle.
The dog from a dead sleep did jump
When the freight train hit him with a thump.
.....The boy it did graze,
.....Leaving him in a daze,
With hardly a sctatch or a bump .
With a screech the train came to a stop;
From the engine the driver did hop.
.....His heart in his throat,
.....He managed to croak,
“I didn’t see you ‘way up there on the top.”
Well, the lad got all red in the face;
With outrage, back and forth, did he pace.
.....He spewed out his rage
.....Like a bear in a cage
On the trainman for disturbing his peace.
“How dare you give us such a fright!
The fish were just starting to bite.
.....My dog you did wake. . . .
.....Just look at him shake.
With your train, you just hit us for spite.”
He ran down the path in a temper,
the dog, quick, for home did now scamper.
.....The lad’s fun was gone,
.....So he headed for home.
The mishap on his mood put a damper.
So the moral of this story is this,
If one day you decide you will fish,
.....Don’t be like this lad,
.....Ending up blazing mad,
‘Cause he couldn’t just fish where he wished.
A true story.
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