Schrœder the fisherman describes watching minnows bump each other for crumbs and pigs shove, bite, and trample one another over corn. Then he sees the same pattern among people: a large, wealthy farm swallows a neighbor’s small plot the way a bass swallows a minnow. He is not sentimental or shocked—just grimly skeptical. Having watched creatures fight for food and land, he doubts that humans are really set apart by spirit, conscience, or the breath of God. If such a difference exists, he wants to see it work. The mood is dry, hard-edged, and quietly challenging, like a man who has seen too much selfishness to expect anything nobler from people.
Schrœder the Fisherman — Summary
I sat on the bank above Bernadotte And dropped crumbs in the water, Just to see the minnows bump each other, Until the strongest got the prize. Or I went to my little pasture, Where the peaceful swine were asleep in the wallow, Or nosing each other lovingly, And emptied a basket of yellow corn, And watched them push and squeal and bite, And trample each other to get the corn. And I saw how Christian Dallman’s farm, Of more than three thousand acres, Swallowed the patch of Felix Schmidt, As a bass will swallow a minnow And I say if there’s anything in man— Spirit, or conscience, or breath of God That makes him different from fishes or hogs, I’d like to see it work!