I must not dance war-dances, shy heavy stones,
Or talk in the strident stentorian tones
Of a partisan public-house wrangler.
I frighten the fish with my shindy? No, no!
I will show there's a fisherman's tact about Joe.
I make a fiasco? No, thankee!
I'll be as discreet as Piscator could wish,
In a style will enchant the Canadian fish,
And utterly ravish the Yankee.
But now, as to bait? Well, ahem!—yes, I fear,