THE FISHERMAN'S TALE
by
Paul Wilkinson

I'll tell you a tale, strange but true, sir,
And untruthful is one thing I'm not,
Should one single word be proved false, sir,
May I drop dead on this very spot!

I'll relate the events as they 'appened,
A most singular tale you'll agree,
Of the day that I fished the canal, sir,
And the odd thing that 'appened to me!

'Twas a day, sir, just like any other,
With a bit of a nip in the air,
And the one fish I'd managed to 'ook, sir,
Was flapping about, 'neath my chair.

Well, come five o'clock, it starts raining,
So thinkin' to call it a day,
I stowed all my gear in my basket,
And bent down to where the fish lay.

Now... you'd think after five or six hours, sir,
The poor little sod would be dead,

  But no, sir, not this little fella,
He's flappin' quite lively instead!

Still, I popped 'im down into the basket,
And went 'ome for a nice steamin' cuppa,
With thoughts of a night by the fire, sir,
And a plate of fried fish for my supper.

But strange to relate, sir... that evening,
With the flames dancin' under the skillet,
I opened the basket and out jumped that fish...
And I 'adn't the 'eart, sir, to kill it!

Well, I looked at 'im... and 'e looked at me,
And I swear, sir, 'e gave me a wink,
So I bunged up the plug'ole, turned on the water,
And dropped 'im straight into the sink.

Next morning, at breakfast, I swear, sir,
'E weren't in the sink any more,
For during the night, 'e'd some'ow got out,
And was flappin' around on the floor!

So I gave 'im a saucer o' milk, sir,
And a bit o' me bacon and egg,
And I've never before in my life, sir...
Seen a fish that could sit up an' beg!

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