366 A MORNING AT BALLYSHANNON. 



crept slowly across the surface of the great 

 pool. " It is my own fault though, I know ;" 

 and he settled himself comfortably in the 

 after-seat with his newspaper in his hand, 

 and his fly trailing in the water astern. 



To any eyes but those of fishermen the 

 scene was glorious and lovely in the ex- 

 treme. The broad and brimming river, 

 smiling in its noon-day brightness, was roll- 

 ing its quiet and resistless way ; not a break 

 on its smooth current, not a ripple on its 

 glass-like surface, though here and there a 

 slight curling dimple told how surely and 

 continually that calm and peaceful water 

 was gliding in its noiselessness to the great 

 fall below, whose heavy, deep, and ceaseless 

 thunderings, rose in the still air, mixing 

 and harmonising with the sharp tinkling 

 and plashing sound of the rapid above it. 



Like a black band across this sunny pic- 

 ture rose the bridge of Bally shannon, with 

 its deep-shadowed buttresses and its fourteen 

 arches, each pouring its respective current 

 into the deep still pool. There were pas- 

 sengers, and horses, and market-carts pass- 

 ing over it ; while every now and then came 

 a sharp, quick, dazzling glance, which the 



