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Discussion Starter #1
'Twas the night before Christmas, and down by the stream
A trout was a rising, it seemed like a dream The icicles clung tight to the sides of the rocks
Just like great big stonefly’s throwing their shucks

The trout were nestled all snug tight to the beds,
While visions of caddis danced in their heads;
I put on my waders , and my warmest of caps,
In hopes I might wake them, from their long winter's naps,

When out on the far bank arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my beat to see what was the matter.
Away to the bottom I saw a great flash,
Tore open my fly box to fondle on my stash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
An enormous old brown trout, the fish of a year

With a little old 4 weight, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, this would be a trick.
Like sparks from a fire, the emergers they came,
And he rose, and he rolled... this hatch was insane!

Now, blue wings! now, midges! no, stones and no caddis!
How can this be , this hatch is sheer madness!
To the top of the stream! Did the huge salmo rise !
But rose and refused... nearly laughed at my flies!"

Like dry leaves before the wind often will fly,
The emergers came steady in their mount to the sky,
So up from the stream-top the coursers they flew,
Then a sky full of spinners, the emergers were through

And then, in a twinkling, I saw a great wake... A path so enormous, one more cast I did make .
As I drew back my line, and was turning around,
He rose once again and came with a bound.

He was covered in spots, all black, brown and red,
With a 4 inch long kipe at the end of his head;
His belly was yellow, with a broad girth of his back,
I must catch this trout, what fly do I lack?

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
My God there’s two fish and one is a bow,
I’m freezing my ass and it’s starting to snow;

The stumps of old flies were held tight in their teeth,
The mist on the water circled each rise like a wreath;
The bow had a broad face and a monterous round belly,
That shook, when he breeched like a bowlful of jelly

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old trout
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his rear,
I soon came to know, he had nothing to fear!

So I put on a midge, and I went straight to my work,
And he rolled on my fly; then turned with a jerk,
He shredded my tippet, the fly still in his nose,
Then giving a nod, he grinned when he rose;

He sprang up the stream, the wind started to whistle,
And away did he fly like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he swam out of sight,

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