POIET.—I will try the correctness of your principle. Look at the fly now on my line; where would you recommend me to cast it? HAL.—It is a large gaudy fly, and is fit for no part of this pool, except the extremely rough head of the torrent: there I dare say it will take in _this_ state of the waters. POIET.—Good, I hooked a large fish, but alas! he is off: Yet I thought he was fairly caught. HAL.—The hook, I think, turned round at the moment you struck, and carried off some scales from the outside of his mouth. POIET.—You are right: see, the scales are on the hook. I cannot raise another fish: I have tried almost all over the pool. I thought I saw a fish rise at the tail of the rapid. HAL.—You did: he refused the fly. Now put on a fly one third of the size and of the same colour, and I think you will hook that fish. POIET.—I have done so—and he is fast; and a fine fish; I think a salmon. HAL.—It is a salmon, and one above 10lbs. Play him with care, and do not let him run into the rough part of the stream, where the large stones are. POIET.—It is, I think, the most active fish I have yet played with. See how high he leaps! He is making for the sea. HAL.—Hold him tight, or you will lose him. POIET.—Fear me not. I trust, in spite of his strength, I shall turn him. You see, I show him the but of the rod, and his force is counterpoised by a very long lever. HAL.—You do well. But he has made a violent spring, and, I fear, is off. POIET.—He is!—but not, I think, by any fault of mine: he has carried off something. HAL.—You played that fish so well, that I am angry at his loss: either the hook, link, or line, failed you. POIET.—It is the hook, which you see is broken, and not merely at the barb, but likewise in the shank. What a fool I was ever to use one of these London or Birmingham made hooks. HAL.—The thing has happened to me often. I now never use any hooks for salmon fishing, except those which I am sure have been made by O’Shaughnessy, of Limerick; for even those made in Dublin, though they seldom break, yet they now and then bend; and the English hooks, made of cast steel in imitation of Irish ones, are the worst of all. _There_ is a fly nearly of the same colour as that which is destroyed; and I can tell you, that I saw it made at Limerick by O’Shaughnessy himself, and tied on one of his own hooks. Should you catch with it a fish even of 30lbs. I will answer for its strength and temper: it will neither break nor bend. POIET.—Whilst I am attaching your present, so kindly made, to my line, pray tell me how these hooks are made, for I know you interested yourself in this subject when at Limerick.