202 Salmon Fishing. 



found myself up to my middle in water. No 

 sooner did I crawl out, than the pain fastened 

 again on the same knee, though the water 

 was not particularly cold, and for some time 

 afterwards I felt it at intervals. 



A year or two have elapsed since then, and 

 devoutly do I pray, that this unwelcome 

 visitor will keep at a respectable distance for 

 the future. 



The nearest approach to a final stop being 

 put to my wielding a rod ever again, was in 

 the Green Island on the banks of the Erne. 



The "Boots" of the hotel I was staying at 

 at Ballyshannon, hearing I was making inquiries 

 for an attendant, to point out the " throws" as 

 they call the catches there, came and offered 

 me his services. So tickled was I with the 

 idea of a shoe-black knowing anything about 

 salmon-fishing, that I fairly laughed in his face. 

 Nothing abashed the youthful Pat (he was 

 about sixteen) stuck to his point, and began 

 shewing off his knowledge by enumerating 



