From the back o beyont 70yrs. and more ago:--

Way down upon a Swanee river
Whaur aa fell in
Tryin tae catch wee Baggie Minnows
Wey a condensed milk tin.

O the lassies roared and laughed
Et me faa"n in
Way down upon a Swanee river
Wey maa condensed milk tin.

We always kept a trout in the well to eat any insects that fell in, when this trout needed to be replaced we would guddle for a replacement in the burn.
A verse from the old bothy ballad, Carnwath Mill, {we did have a few bothy ballads in Southern Scotland} runs:--

Aa slipit maa haun doon the neck o her goon
Jist tae gie her bit paps a kittle
Man she writhed an riggled an pretended tae swoon
Jist like a troot that ye"d newlie guddled.


Ah days of youth how sweet are ye
But ye ne"er return again.