was hooked. Getting quickly to land I took up the run- 

 ning, and presently got on fighting terms vdih the fish. 

 Once more he started a series of flying leaps. I could hear 

 an accompaniment of wild " Whoroo's !" from the opposite 

 bank, and a glance there showed that rascally boy Mike 

 dancing and frantically waving his arms with excitement. 

 But all my energies were needed to bring the fish to bank, 

 and this was not done until nij arms and back ached. 

 Twenty-one and three-quarters of a pound, said the spring 

 balance, and no more handsome fish ever fell to an angler's 

 rod. Again we go back to the cast, and in less than a 

 quarter of an hour another big fish took the fly, this time 

 the fight being much prolonged by reason of the hook pull- 

 ing out of the salmon's mouth and catching in the gill 

 cover. But why tell the whole story? The result of my 

 six hours' fishing were five fish, which weighed respec- 

 tively 21|lb., irilb., 161b., 141b., and 111b. Thus ended 

 one of the best short day's fishing that I ever had, or am 

 ever likely to have again, and but for my obstinacy in 

 resisting the advice of a lady, as to the choice of a fly, the 

 score would have been much heavier. 



Did you ever do any night fishing for trout? Of course 

 you did not, so come along with me to Portna weir, for 

 we have got back to our fishing ground on the Bann, and 

 rejoice in the quiet and repose of a comfortable farm house 

 by the river-side. The modern name of a jaunting car is 

 evidently a corruption of "jolting" car, which is by far 

 the most appropriate title, as my weary bones can testify — 

 but, let us go a-fishing. Rowing up, in the moonlight, we 

 realize for the first time how low the river has run down, 

 because, falling over this noble weir, some hundred yards 

 wide, is only a thin stream of water instead of the tumbling 

 mass whose roar could be heard in the village, two miles 

 away. Tou will see by our illustration what Portna weir 

 is like when the river is in good volume. The run of 

 broken water from the foot of the weir is some 250 yards 

 long, and it passes over large boulders, swirling into deep 

 pools, where lie the cunning old trout who now only for- 



