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The Erne, Its Legends & Its Fly Fishing            Page 11

All this time Pat had been working away with diligence, and having received the argus from the Parson, who soon found it among some of his miscellaneous stores, he produced a very respectable-looking fly.
 
“Well,” said the Squire, taking it to the window, “the fly is well tied, at all events; and I’ll use him the first time I go out.”
 
“Won’t your honour be going out to-day, then?” said Pat.  “The rain is nothing to speak of now; and I’ll engage we’ll make the dream come true.”
 
“To-day?” said the Squire.  “Why, you hear what they say of the water.  But I do not mind if I do; I want to walk.  Will you come, Parson?”
 
“Not with the rod,” said the Parson, laughing.  “I have had no dream; the Oracle has been silent to me: it is only the favourites of the good people who stand a chance.”
 
“I hope you do not suppose that I believe that nonsense of Pat’s?”
 
“Oh no; of course not; but I really have no fancy to go slopping through the wet grass and muddy roads for nothing.  Come, Captain, take a turn on the flags of Rose Isle.  Light your cigar, and come.”
 
“Well, here goes for the river!” said the Squire, putting on his Macintosh as he went down stairs; while Pat took down his rod and handed it to him out of the window; and the Scholar threw a shoe at him for luck.
 
“It will never do to fish this river to-morrow,” said the Captain, as they crossed the little bridge that connects Rose Isle with the main land; “it is perfectly impossible that the water should run clear so soon: look how it comes over the little fall; it is a regular flood.”
 
“We must try Lough Melvin again,” said the Parson.
 
“Why, the Squire will be having out those confounded cross-lines,” said the Captain, “and that is terrible slow work.  If we are to have a turn at lake-fishing, what do you say to Lough Derg?  We have none of us seen that.  But heavens and earth! What is this?” said he, interrupting himself.  “Why the Squire has caught a fish.  Look at that scoundrel, Pat Gallagher, holding it up to us in triumph as he goes over the bridge.  Why it’s not possible.  I will not believe it.”
 
But it was possible; and Pat, happy and triumphant, crossed over to the island, holding it up by the tail, followed by the Squire with the great rod on his shoulder.
 
“Did not I tell your reverence that we’d catch the fish to-day?”
 
“Honestly, now,” said the Captain, “have you had no secret ambassador at the fish-house?”
 
“Honestly, I caught this fish myself at Earl’s Throw,” said the Squire; “and had another rise, besides, at Mois Ruah. 

 

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