

A DAY UP THE RIVER. 123 



" That fish is feeding, Slievan ! shove out 

 and let go the killick in the middle of the 

 stream. I will try that fellow with the 

 trout- tackle." 



The boat was shoved out accordingly, and 

 anchored some twenty yards above the fish ; 

 but in vain did the Parson cast his flies 

 across the rise, though, with his light tackle, 

 they fell like thistle-down. Possibly the sun 

 might have been too bright — possibly the 

 fish might have been ashamed of being so 

 unfashionable as to rise at all — possibly the 

 rise at a time so unusual might have been 

 caused by some object of unparalleled attrac- 

 tion which the flies could not imitate : but 

 the feeding fish rose no more, though the 

 sporting salmon would throw themselves 

 across the line and over it, and all round the 

 boat, as if they meant to jump into it. 



The Parson soon ceased to whip for the 

 fish, and began to throw his fly at the leaves 

 and sticks that floated past, partly by way of 

 practice, but in a great measure from sheer 

 idleness, and, as his companions were long 

 in making their appearance, was fast sinking 

 into a musing mood, when his attention was 

 attracted by an unusual stir on the shore. 



