From The Birmingham Age Herald, June 12, 1913. I met a happy fisherman Exhibiting his catch; He seemed to think his finny spoils Were very hard to match. I did not see him pull them out Of any lake or brook; I did not see him drop his line Nor lightly bait his hook. I did not even see him go And come back laden down; But simply met him as he strolled Quite chestily through town. I do not seek a method of Discrediting his tale, But he was near a market place Where there were fish for sale. And as I poked a finger out Remarking, “This one’s nice,” It felt so cold I could have sworn That fish had been on ice.