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Updated: June 25, 2025
There's a piece of lancewood in the store overhead which I keep on purpose; it's as tough as a bow they make carriage-shafts of it; you shall have a better rod than was ever fitted to a Joe Manton. So we took him down some pippins, and he set to work on it that evening.
Even Will, who did not as a rule profess to be much of a sportsman, declared he believed he would like to test that new "pole" which his father had given him for Christmas; at which Bluff groaned, and immediately threw up his hands in affected horror, exclaiming: "Pole! For goodness' sake, Will, never call that dandy lancewood rod by such a degrading name again.
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees; The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum," Last of its timber, they couldn't sell 'em, Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died.
This would be a fearful country for any one to be lost in, as there is nothing to guide them, and one cannot see more than three hundred yards around, the gum-trees are so thick, and the small belts of lancewood make it very deceptive.
And in the catching of the black bass there came eventually to the nine-ounce split bamboo in her little hands as many trophies as to his heavier lancewood.
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees; The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum," Last of its timber, they couldn't sell 'em, Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died.
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