18 A YEAR OP LIBERTY; OE, 



lakes ill one direction, and in another for miles up the Flesk. As a 

 rule, the lower lake offers the best sport in spring and summer, and 

 during autumn spates, the Flesk. For beauty, the country is an 

 Eden; but who dare describe what Macaulay has seen with a poet's 

 eye, and touched with a painter's skill? 



The lower lake, at this season, would afford noble sport, were it 

 not for the cross-lines ; as it is, the professionals have put fly-fishing 

 nearly out of the question, so the stranger had better content himself 

 with trolling. 



At the present moment ten boats, and from twenty to thirty men, 

 are diligently working five cross-lines. These on the lake are what 

 ''long-lines" are on the sea, and the owners, like other fishers, are 

 earning their daily bread. Just now I heartily wish they were 

 seeking it in any other way. It is difficult to say what a salmon 

 can see so attractive in these diabolical inventions ; come over him 

 with long and light casting, make the fly swim deep and fair, and 

 play never so seductively before his eyes, there he lies in stoical 

 indifference. A couple of dozen flies, however, swimming, flying, 

 bounding, and splashing over his head, banish all prudential con- 

 siderations ; they bewilder his- judgment, and turn his brain. It is 

 sad to think so dear a friend is only a frivolous weak-minded 

 individual after all. 



When we pushed off from the little pier at Ross Island, it was 

 barely ten o'clock, yet our ancient mariner was somewhat testy. 

 "Gentlemen," he said, "should come early if they wanted sport; 

 them divils of cross-lines is raking the lake these two hours." 



The wild woods, the fairy islets, green with holly, arbutus, and 

 laurel, the sparkling water and delicious air, were all charming; 

 and early in the day a run that sent the left-hand rod flying into the 

 old man's lap, filled up the measure of our content. We lay on our 

 oars to watch the struggle; but what chance has an unlucky fish 

 in open water with three of O'Shaughnessy's hooks in his mouth ? 

 Our prize weighed nearly lolb,, being, I fancy, rather above the local 

 average. 



This success raied our hopes to an extravagant pitch, Round 



