It looked extremely choppy,
for the Murphy eight that day.
The score stood no fish,
with but one day to play.
So when Gerry quit at noon,
and Moose did the same,
a pallor wreathed the features
of the Glatt Murray Murphy fame.
Kevin and Carl got up to go,
leaving there but four,
with the hope which springs eternal
of getting one big score.
For they knew: “If only Panfry could get his fervent wish,
cast far and straight and strong
and catch the only fish.”
The Mikes were trying hard,
and Bill was still out there,
but the former were unlucky,
and the latter didn’t really care.
So on that stricken group,
a death-like silence set,
For there seemed but little chance
of Panfry filling his net.
But Glatt cried out “a nibble!”
to the wonderment of all
and the much beleaguered Bill
yelled a similar call.
And when the lake had calmed,
and they saw what had come to pass,
there was Mike with broken line
and Bill without a bass.
Then from the gladdened multitude,
went up a joyous yell.
It rumbled in the hilltops,
it rattled in the dell.
It struck upon the hillside,
and echoed in the like,
for Panfry, mighty Panfry,
had gotten a strike.
There was ease in Panfry’s manner,
as he carefully set the hook.
There was pride in Panfry’s bearing,
for he knew just what it took.
And when responding to the fight,
he played with it a while,
no person on the river could doubt
here was true fisherman’s guile.
Sixteen eyes were on him,
as his forehead began to sweat.
If only he could get that fish –
into his big dip net.
Then when the writhing pike,
ran deep to logs and weed,
defiance gleamed from Panfry’s eye,
he knew he would succeed.
And now the pike was turning,
surfacing for the fight.
And Panfry stood-a-watching-it,
pulling with all his might.
Close by the assembled boats
the pike unheeded sped.
“It’s the largest one we’ve ever seen”
they all together said.
In each and every person,
they knew their coming fate.
they sensed that Panfry had it,
his name upon the plate.
The fish was strong and mighty,
he fought with all he could.
Closer to the boat he came,
as Panfry knew he would.
“The net, the net” was Panfry’s call,
Moose grabbed it in his hand.
He needed the experience here,
if ever that fish to land.
Moose dipped it in the river,
and held on with all his might.
Panfry brought the monster alongside,
he wanted it done just right.
The fish is headed into the net,
to all it was plainly seen.
The fight was almost over,
Panfry had finally got his dream.
And now Moose gives a sweep,
of that large inviting net.
he fish entangled to be sure,
Panfry will win the bet.
Oh somewhere in this favored land,
the sun is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere,
and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing,
and somewhere children play.
But there is no joy on the French –
The line snapped – Mighty Panfry lost his prey!