Uncle Nick on Fishing

It alluz sets me laughin', when I happens to be roun',
To see a lot ob gemmen come a-fishin' from de town!
Dey waits tell arter bre'kfus 'fore dey ebber makes a start,
An' den you sees 'em comin' in a leetle Jarsey kyart.

Now, Jarsey kyarts is springy — so, to hab a studdy seat,
De gemmen's 'bliged to ballus her wid suffin good to eat;
An' Jarsey kyarts runs better — so de gemmen seems to think —
By totin' 'long a demijohn of suffin good to drink.

When dey gits at de fishin' place, it's 'stonishin' indeed —
Sech tricks to go a-fishin' wid nobody nebber seed!
Dey poles is put togedder wid a dozen j'ints ob tin,
An' has a block-an'-tickle lur to wind de fishes in!

De gemmens makes a heap o'fuss, an'skeers de fishes off;
An' den dey takes an' sots de poles, some place de bank is sof';
An' den dey hunts a shady place, an' settles on de grass,
An' pruzently you heahs 'em: " Dat a spade? I has to pass! "

St. Petah wuz a fisherman, an' un'erstood his trade;
He staid an' watched his cork, instid ob laz'in' in de shade.
De gemmen is copyin' arter him — dey better be!
Or — I's a science fisherman — 't'u'd do to copy me .

When I starts out a-fishin', I puts on my ol'est clo'es —
Dey age is putty tol'able, you'd nat'rally suppose!
I gits up in de mohnin', long alore de sun has riz,
An' grabbles wums, Itell you! — like de yurly bird I is.

I's alluz berry 'tic'lar 'bout de season ob de moon:
De dark ob it is fishin' time — an' time tor huntin' 'coon;
An' I's be'n fishin' nuff to know, as notus mus' be tuk
Ob vari's leetle sarcumstances bearin' on de luck:

You has to spit upon de bait, afore you draps it in;
Mus' keep yo' cork a-bobbin, — des as easy as you kin;
Ef some one steps acrost yo' pole, yo' luck is shorely broke,
Widout dey steps it back ag'in, afore a word is spoke.

Untel you quits a-fishin', don't you nebber count yo' string;
Fur ef you do, you's sartin not to cotch anoder thing;
But et a sarpent-doctor bug sh'u'd 'light upon de pole,
You knows you's good fur cotchin' all de fishes in de hole.

Dar, now! you's got de l'arnin' what a fisherman sh'u'd know;
So, when you's ready, all you has to do's to up an' go,
An' foller dem instruckshums — ef you does it, to de notch,
Good Marster! won't it s'prise de folks to see de mess you cotch!