46 Rambles with a Fishing-Rod. 



these things), yet what may be called, for the 

 sake of distinction, some foreign flies, will do 

 just as much execution as those more gener- 

 ally used. 



The lakes of the west of Ireland were this 

 September exceedingly low, and two hours' fish- 

 ing during the first afternoon only yielded a 

 half-pound brown trout. The succeeding mor- 

 ning was all that could be desired by the tourist, 

 just what was not wished for by the fisherman. 

 The lake glimmered in the sunlight, which 

 stole through the scarcely veiling clouds ; and 

 the rocks of the shore, and the green mountains, 

 were distinctly reflected in the waters, whose 

 stillness was only broken now and again by a 

 gentle autumn breeze, which scarcely ruffled 

 the surface. It was a pleasant day enough, as 

 we found, to stroll about the islands among the 

 blackberries, and browning ferns, and the tufts 

 of the large-blossomed bell-heather. But it was 

 quite impossible to get what friendly Mr Lynch 

 called a good drift that is, to drift well before 

 the breeze from one end of the lake to the other. 

 For this, in his parlance, a good " duster " was 

 required ; but no " duster " did we meet with 

 on that pleasant September day so that half- 



