ENNIS NA SHIA. 7t 



tired fisherman may find in it many little 

 spots of dry mossy turf, soft as a down bed, 

 and as inviting to repose. 



It was on one of these openings that the 

 party was assembled, the boats being safely 

 moored in a little bay. Against one of the 

 rocks the men had already kindled a fire of 

 dry arbutus and myrica branches, of which 

 Pat Gallagher and Paddy Mooshlan were 

 bringing fresh bundles ; while Johnny 

 M'Gowan, who had great skill in such 

 matters, was preparing the black trout for 

 roasting. It was already cut into fids of 

 five or six inches in length, which were 

 spread out on arbutus skewers, and fixed 

 upright on square pieces of turf. These, 

 when the fire had burnt into embers, were 

 ranged around it, and occasionally turned, 

 being continually sprinkled with salt and 

 moistened with water. 



In the mean time the fishermen were dis- 

 persed about the little glade, reclining in 

 various attitudes of repose on the soft turf, 

 and leisurely contemplating the beautiful 

 scene. 



Few people who travel in Ireland are 

 fully aware of its beauties, for in good truth 



