144 Sporting Sketches in Pen and Pencil. 



get a sight of the fly I used. Had anyone asked to see it I would have 

 heen pleased to shew it, hut I wouldn't he tricked ; and as I tied my 

 own flies, and made hoth High and Low Church "Parsons"* indifferently 

 well, they covddn't well get at it. 



As it happened, there was not another fish that morning ; and as it 

 further happened, for the next three or four days, while I brought in one, 

 two, and three fish a day, only an odd fish now and again was got by the 

 other three or four anglers then in the town. Several fish, however, were 

 hooked and lost, among them a big fish, said to be a thirty-pounder, hooked 

 by Sir T. G., at the Grass-yard on the south side. The fish went down, 

 and Sir T. had to follow him up to his waist in places. I saw him 

 stumbling along, and his gaffsman behind him, his rod bent double by 

 the heavy fish. He was making pretty good floundering of it, however, 

 and might have got down the rapid with only half a ducking and saved 

 his fish ; but half or two-thirds down his toe struck a rock, and over 

 he went headforemost, his heels upwards, and his rod anywhere. His 

 attendant made a dash at him. There was a tremendous splashing, as 

 it is said in " Mr. Bubb at Brighton " — 



They flounced about, 

 Like porpoises and- whales at play, 



and he was once more on his feet, his hat was recovered below, his 

 rod was fished out, but the big fish couldn't wait for him, having an 

 engagement elsewhere, perhaps, and Sir T. walked home moist and 

 disconsolate. 



The Erne, as I have said, is an awful river for fish to get away in. 

 You never can calculate on landing your fish vmtil you have got him 

 high and dry on the bank. How many fish I have lost just as I thought 

 victory assured, and when the very gaff was extended for a chance, I 

 can't tell. I remember one particular day, however, which figures among 

 my very, very unlucky days, and yet after all we made a good one of 

 it ; but what it might liave been if we only had luck. Oh, what a day ! 

 I began up at the Mullens, and I rose a sulky fish at the stone. Finding 



* The Parson is the crack fly on the Erne. There is a picture of one in the tail piece. 



