AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 127 



are generosity itself, and you may not offer them 

 payment for that which will quench a wayfarer's 

 thirst. It was Mr. Sarly himself who invited me 

 in, and I fear I must have kept him from some 

 Catholic observance, as he was dressed in his best 

 and was crowned with a tall silk hat. I had always 

 thought that this headgear needed dressing up to ; 

 it is associated in my mind with buttoned frock- 

 coats ; yet one glance showed me that a tall, hand- 

 some, bright, hazel-eyed picture of indolence, like 

 Tim Sarly, may wear it at all times and with any- 

 thing that was ever stitched together. I never 

 could learn how to put one on, and seldom tried ; 

 but when I did, mother, wife, or daughter had to 

 alter its position. It seems to me to want a lot of 

 doing, yet a real Pat can do it every time and look 

 the roguish gentleman he is ; no matter that the 

 patch on the knee of his trousers is not quite the 

 same colour as the garment itself. 



I told Sarly that I was a countryman, and not 

 a lover of towns. He sympathetically replied : 

 " Shure, and no wonder ; it's meself that's always 

 the worse for a visit to them." 



We threaded our way we had on our Sunday 

 brogues between the dirty strong-smelling pools 

 that occupied three-fourths of the yard, pools that 

 were constantly stirred by pigs, fowls, geese, and 

 ducks, to where a sight of the grass could be had. 



The fact of there being a gate to protect the 

 little meadow, and Pat's ready acceptance of it as 



