AN EVENING AT BELLEEK. S3 



and snow-white curd of the fresh-caught 

 salmon formed by no means the least im- 

 portant ingredient. 



Far too sharp-set were the fishermen to 

 waste much time in talking during the pro- 

 gress of the meal— a stray joke, a brief reply, 

 or a good-humoured nod, was all that passed 

 between them; till at last they drew their 

 chairs round the joyous turf fire that blazed 

 cheerily on the i hearth, glancing on the 

 wet rods that hung in their brackets, and 

 glittering in the rain drops which coursed 

 each other down the panes of the windows. 



" Well, Parson, how many tails have you 

 turned ? " said the Scholar, who, being new 

 on the river, spoke carefully the most cor- 

 rect of fishing slang — more Attic than the 

 Athenians. 



" Two," said the Parson ; " the fine four- 

 teen-pound salmon you have just eaten, and 

 a good graul* which I left at the fish-house : 

 but after the squally weather came on, the 

 Captain beat me out-and-out. I am but a 

 fine-weather fisherman, after all ; I cannot 



* Graul, called in the north a grilse and on the 

 Shannon a peel ; a salmon that has made but one sea 

 voyage ; known by his single row of teeth. 



D 



