AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 69 



joined heartily in the chorus, glad of such an oppor- 

 tunity to relieve their pent-up feelings. 



Chorus. 



" O the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock ! 

 Chosen leaf 

 Of bard and chief, 

 Old Erin's native Shamrock!" 



He told his stories with such terseness and brevity, 

 so delicately intermingled with wit and pride, as 

 made it impossible not to hope that he had more 

 and more in store. Now and then a funny, laughter- 

 making story, or perhaps a pathetic one (he lightly 

 tripped from one to the other), would be cut in 

 twain by a wild Irish interjection that told of fish, 

 winch, and trouble. 



When the tide commenced to flow, as it did 

 about eleven, and stirred the fish in earnest, we 

 were both so busy that his stories became more 

 and more disjointed, until interjections actually pre- 

 dominated, and I could not make head or tail of 

 what he said. 



At Carrington Head the tide was almost as 

 much as our boatmen could well manage, and 

 several times when our lures were just abreast the 

 point we got a fish, and sometimes two, which it 

 was impossible to bring against the rush of water, 

 so we had to fall back to gaff it and then stem the 

 torrent once again. These many trying efforts 

 made the boatmen thirsty, and once again Pat was 

 too quick for Billy, got the bottle to his mouth and 



