A MORNING AT BALLYSHANNON. 377 



During the foregoing conversation the 

 boat, under the force of the smooth current, 

 had dragged her light anchor, and the 

 Squire's fly, which, at the end of thirty 

 yards of line, was trailing at the stern of 

 the boat, had entered the head of the rapid, 

 where it lay revolving and playing in the 

 ripple, and looking as like a dancing shrimp 

 as any combination of silk and feathers could 

 look. 



A heavy fish, fresh from the ocean and in- 

 nocent of the deceits of man, had taken it, 

 and was now grubbing away at the bottom, 

 while he was trying to find out what sort of 

 a prize he had caught hold of ; the top of the 

 Squire's rod all the while was dipping and 

 bobbing, and recovering itself, as if he had 

 been hooked to a wheel at the bottom, which 

 was slowly and irresistibly revolving beneath 

 the surface. Then came the short warning 

 twitch, which gives notice to see all clear, 

 and the gallant fish dashed past the boat, 

 rattling out sixty yards from the reel with 

 a speed that made the line burn in the 

 rings. 



" There he shows !" said Paddy Mooshlan. 

 " Blessed Vargin, what a tail ! " as the fish 



