"I will bear it in mind, yer honour, and next time we come on a good pool
a dish of fine fish shall be left at your quarters, but yer honour must
not mintion to the gineral where you got them from. Maybe his conscience
in the matter of ateing limed fish would be more tender than your own, and
it might get me into trouble."

"I will take care about that, Tim; at any rate, I will try and manufacture
two or three hooks, and when we halt for a day will try and do a little
fishing on my own account."

"I will make you two or three, Mr. O'Connor. I made a couple for Mr. Ryan,
and he caught two beauties yesterday evening."

"Thank you, Hoolan. Fond as I am of fishing, I wonder it did not strike me
before. I can make a line by plaiting some office string, with twisted
horse-hair instead of gut."

"I expect that that is just what Mr. Ryan did, yer honour. I heard the
adjutant using powerful language this morning because he could not find a
ball of twine."

After this Terence generally managed to get an hour's fishing before the
evening twilight had quite faded away; and by the aid of a long rod cut on
the river bank, a line manufactured by himself, and Hoolan's hook baited
with worms, he generally contrived to catch enough fish to supplement the
ordinary fare at the following morning's breakfast.

"This is a welcome surprise, Trevor," the brigadier said the first time
the fish appeared at table. "I thought I smelt fish frying, but I felt
sure I must be mistaken. Where on earth did you get them from?"