They use a tackle here that they call "chop sticks"—two pieces of bamboo fastened at right angles, from which depend the gut and hooks, while back of them is the heavy sinker. The sinker rests on the bottom and the ugly red "lugs" (bait) play around in the water until they are gulped by the voracious coddlings, or cod. We had small hooks and caught only the youngsters.
Time after time we threw in our lines, got "two strikes" at once and pulled in two cod as fast as we could pull in the line.
No sport in the way of fight on the part of the party of the second part, but not a little excitement in thus hauling in toothsome food.
We had them for supper and I tell you, O tired business man, if you want to know how good fish can taste, come over here and go a-fishin'. Like us you will stay on and on.
Oh, yes, about those other people. No, we didn't get out of our rooms, because the landlady had relatives in America and so she made other arrangements for her expected guests and we stayed on and overlooked Lough Swilly.
Americans are popular over here. But I hope they won't spoil these simple folk with either excessive tipping or excessive grumbling.
[CHAPTER III]
A Joyful Day in Donegal