nd their way
into some unfrequented spot where sea-trout are plentiful, and they will
agree with us in thinking that that class of fishing is a most excellent
sport. Some parts of Ireland are famous for their fine sea-trout
fishing--white trout they call them there; and though we have never been
there ourselves, we mean to go some day, when the Land Bill has pacified
the natives, and made them law-abiding subjects. Meantime one runs the
risk of being mistaken for a non-resident landlord, and that would be a
pity for one's wife and family. But without any joking, this Irish
sea-trout fishing is a pleasure to which we look forward; and in this
work-a-day world, something to look forward to is half the enjoyment of
life.

The capture of the SALMON is the ambition of all anglers, but we doubt
very much if the sport is to compare with ordinary loch or sea-trout
fishing, provided always that the latter are of good average weight. The
tackle used in salmon-fishing is proportionately heavy, and after the
first few rushes, if the fish be well hooked, there is little in it
except a matter of time. Indeed it is said that some anglers, after
hooking a salmon, hand the rod to a gillie to work and land the fish.
This seems going too much in the other direction, but it is quite
understandable. True, the size to which salmon run is a great inducement
to go after them; but even in Loch Tay, where the biggest average is to
be found, the sport, if such it can be called at all, is very
questionable. The rod, line, gut, and minnows used are on such a strong
scale, that a well-sized vessel might be moored with them without their
breaking; and with several scores of yards of line ready for a rush,
what earthly chance has the fish of escape, unless through the grossest
carelessness? The fish may be loosely hooked, and get off, but this is
quite a matter of chance, and the odds are that a hungry spring fish
will not miss the lure. Thus the charm of salmon-fishing is in the
raising and striking; and of all kinds of striking, the striking of the
salmon is the most difficult: the fish being so large and silvery, the
angler is certain to see him coming _at_ the fly, and is very apt to
strike too soon. But if it is borne in mind to strike _after_ the broken
water is visible, and not before it, this will soon be overcome. When
you do strike, don't let it be a mere tightening of the line, as in
trout-fishing, but a decided stroke. Some say that the sa