KERRY, CONNEMARA AND CLARE 239 



pouring down the brown streams, and that was 

 what we wanted selfishly, though the others liked 

 to see the clear days and go out fishing on the sea. 

 Just a mile away it nosed up the little valley, with 

 old Mwyl Rhea keeping splendid guard, his peak 

 mist crowned, and looking down on the sheltered 

 harbour and the wild golden stretch of the Mayo 

 sands. 



Even with our boatman and the parrot which 

 wished Mary to get up about five and wished it 

 loudly, who was really only too keen, it was pure 

 happiness there, whether on dark sulky Muck or 

 out for the day on lovely Fee, with its islands and 

 rough waters. 



He lost me a fine salmon once, dropping the 

 oars. We look at the fish. If there was a rock in 

 the lake he found and hit it, though he had been 

 on it for years. Are we over it yet ? we used to say, 

 coming down the big lake. 



** I am not sure. Begor we are not ! " and whack 

 the boat would hit the same rock every time. 



" Och, saamon," was his pet cry, any fish you 

 got into. 



I took him out with me one very stormy day 

 on to the big lake and at least I gave some cause 

 for excitement. It was a hopeless evening, cold 

 and bright, I had only gone for brownies, but as 

 we rowed across I cast and felt a fish. 



" Where " — out went my line like a rocket, 

 Patsy, we'll call him Patsy, yelled " Och, saa- 



