242 A YEAE OF LIBERTY ; OR, 



pass my companion pointed to some droppings and footprints, which 

 he declared to be those of deer. I fear, however, the race, once so 

 numerous, must now, if not extinct, consist only of a few stragglers. 

 In the chapels of this district, hardly twenty years ago, " the rint " 

 was diligently collected. Now the "Liberator" has long been 

 forgotten, and that household word, his name, is unheard. Such 

 is fame ! Who would spend health, peace, or life in the pursuit of 

 such a bubble ? 



Eeluctantly we began the descent found the rod and recom- 

 menced fishing the eight or ten " water-holes " that the bed of the 

 river contained. Had I been wise I should have passed Tyrena in 

 the morning and been put down at Burrishoole; but the sight of 

 Father Ned decided my movements, and having promised him a fish 

 course, I was bound to get one if possible. Never had sport seemed 

 so utterly hopeless. In the earlier part of the day we had not risen 

 a fish ; what chance was there of doing so now ? Half inclined to 

 give it up as hopeless, I turned to depart ; but the good priest, 

 waim with his walk, had already seated himself for the double 

 purpose of rest and observation. At this juncture some good genius 

 recalled to my memory an angling trick I had as a boy often 

 practised in calm weather. Casting the fly on the broad leaves 

 of an aquatic plant, the line was gently shaken till it dropped 

 off noiselessly and smoothly into the water. This manoeuvre had 

 been repeated ten or twelve times without any results, but on the 

 next cast, a capital rise startled me completely. It was the last 

 thing expected, and when I felt a two-pound trout tugging at my 

 line, wonder on my own account, and satisfaction on the score of the 

 good father's first course, had reached their climax. With renewed 

 faith the remaining pools were treated in the same way ; and when, 

 finally, eight of these fish all, with the exception of the first, 

 however, less than lib. in weight were counted out on the heather, 

 I felt disposed to believe the science of angling contained no 

 impossibility. 



This must have been one of Father Ned's lucky days, for on 

 entering Mrs. Pat's kitchen my stomach felt a delicious emotion 



