"I have the line, all right, and I ought to have a hook in one of my pockets.

I generally do.

As for a pole I can easily cut one." Bob hurried back to where he had piled the things he took from his pockets.

It did not take him long to discover that he had a stout cord that would answer for a line, while he also had several hooks.
With his knife he cut a pole, and baiting the hook with a worm, he cast in.
Probably no one, unless it might have been some unfortunate castaway in years gone by, had ever angled in that pool.

The fish at once rose to the bait, and soon Bob had several beauties on the grass beside him.
"Now to cook them," he said to himself.