"About mid-July, Uncle Lou comes up from the city for a week. Big fella, a butcher in St. Paul. Nice guy, but didn't know nothing about fishing. So one morning, he ups and takes Granny's lure to go out trolling and-naturally-loses the lure. Now, Granny had told him about her special lure and not to use it, but he didn't pay any mind. And down comes Granny in her bathrobe to find him sitting at the breakfast table with her tackle box and nail polish calmly paintin' all five lures. And she says, Â¿Â¿Â¿Louis, what the heck are you doing?' And Uncle Lou says, Â¿Â¿Â¿Well, I lost your lure, Gran, and I sure am sorry. But don't you worry. I'm gonna paint these other ones up just the same way and you're gonna catch more fish than ever.'