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The Christmas Fishy

What did I find on the end of my line when I went fishing on Christmas Eve?

'Twas the night before Christmas and all down the pier, All the ragworm were wriggling on my dangling gear. And then from the waves, in their tide-turning crash, I reeled in a small fish that did splish, splosh and splash. 'Twas a five-bearded rockling, its whiskers aquiver As I held it aloft, and its body did shiver. It looked at me glumly, its eyes big and round; With its gills it implored me, though it gave no sound. I...