Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) O don't you remember those days so divine, Around which the heart-strings all tenderly twine, When with sapling pole and a painted cork We fished up and down the old Hanging Fork-- From the railroad bridge, with its single span, Clear down to the mill at Dawson's old dam-- From early morn till the shades of night, And it made no difference if fish _didn't_ bite?…
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