JULY 169 



I forget, had been working all morning with the ' collie ' 

 or stone-loach, and had done no good. Presently he saw 

 an immense fish rise in a good taking place, but the 

 monster would pay no attention to the bait; so thinks 

 Patsie, or Tim, or Joe, whatever his name may have been, 

 ' Maybe it 's the fly he '11 be hankering afther.' But divil 

 a fly he had with him, for they used to rely greatly on the 

 collie in the spring months when the water was cold. 

 Now Tim (I must call him something) was a matter of six 

 Irish miles from his own home, and by the time he had 

 travelled there for his fly-book and back to the river, the 

 February day would be far spent. But within half a mile 

 of him was a certain farm, the habitation of a pretty girl 

 with whom Tim stood on the best of terms. Thither he 

 hied, and finding the nymph of the cot busy about the 

 doors with a worsted shawl over her shapely head 



' Ah now, Phaybie, avourneen/ said he, ' but aren't you 

 the gerr-1 that can help me this day. I seen the biggest 

 salmon in Dawson's Cradle that ever swam in the Suir, 

 and divil a thing will he taste but an iligant fly ; and it 's 

 meself that corne away in the morning wid nothing but the 

 bare hook on me. I 'm afther skaming for some feathers 

 and silk to tie one up this very minute.' 



'Feathers and silk, is it?' replied the maid, entering 

 with spirit into the project. 'Faith, it's a bad quarther 

 ye come to for silk ; sorra a bit is there in the house. 

 But for feathers, there's lashins of them; for wasn't I 

 plucking a poulthry this very morning ? ' 



'Och, the divil sweep all the poulthry in Munster!' 

 cried Tim. ' It 's not thim kind o' common craythurs will 

 do the trick ; it 's something delicate I 'm wanting. Now 

 there was that quare design ye carried on your pretty 



