The Haunted Hour - An Anthology by Various
page 118 of 244 (48%)
page 118 of 244 (48%)
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And I never quit without getting a mess of a dozen or so.
There was a man, Dave Lilly, who lived on the North Adams road, And he spent all his time fishing, while his neighbors reaped and sowed. He was the luckiest fisherman in the Berkshire hills, I think. And when he didn't go fishing he'd sit in the tavern and drink. Well, Dave is dead and buried and nobody cares very much; They have no use in Greylock for drunkards and loafers and such, But I always liked Dave Lilly, he was pleasant as you could wish, He was shiftless and good-for-nothing, but he certainly could fish. The other night I was walking up the hill from Williamstown And I came to the brook I mentioned, and I stopped on the bridge and sat down. I looked at the blackened water with its little flecks of white, And I heard it ripple and whisper in the still of the Summer night. And after I'd been there a minute it seemed to me I could feel |
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