64 A YEAR OP LIBERTY ! OH, 



Silent Charon was unmoved, even by the loss of his property, 

 Whether the abnormal spell of sunshine and dry weather had 

 withered his spirits, whether that morning he had been requested 

 to pay a " thrifle on account of rint," or whether a solitary life had 

 impaired the flexibility of his vocal organs, is uncertain. It might 

 have been either, neither, or a little of each ; but whatever the 

 cause, our pulling machine no more resembled an ordinary Celtic 

 boatman, than a modem perfumer in Eegent-street resembles Da 

 Ponte's Figaro. 



'^The improvement" did not for soine time mend our broken 

 fortunes, but at length, as we neared the upper end of the water, a 

 deep eddjdng swirl gave promise of better things. What children 

 we are, when a bubble on the surface of a small boggy lake can set 

 our hearts beating, and make us oblivious of cold, hunger, and disap- 

 pointment ! A fiery brown, and next an olive, were offered and 

 sullenly rejected ; then came the rising fly. A bright flash through 

 the rippling water acknowledged the attention. For an instant the 

 line is strained, by compression between the hand and the butt, and 

 then " away for life he springs." The prolonged screech of the 

 wheel bespoke an able and vigorous adversary. Now to the bottom, 

 right below the boat, he dives ; then once more tries his speed. The 

 line, with wonderful velocity assuming the horizontal, shows what 

 is coming. Low stoops the rod, just in time to meet as desperate a 

 leap, in the direct course of his headlong race, as ever salmon 

 achieved. The guide casts a quick glance upwards at the rod ; its 

 curve satisfies him that nothing has given way, and now on one 

 palm, now on the other, he tests the shai-pness of the gaff. The 

 examination seems satisfactory, for with a grim smile he lays the 

 weapon across his knees, ready for instant use, and proceeds to light 

 a pipe, his glance never for a moment quitting the spot at which 

 the line cut the surface of the lake. Shorter grow the runs ; the 

 airy somersaults are now exchanged for feeble plunges ; a few 

 minutes more, and we are admiring the first prize drawn from 

 Lough Fern. 



The shores of the lake offered no temptations to wander away in 



