This morning I woke up with a fright to find Nellie, the house-dog, licking my arm. A miserable wet, drizzly day for the bank holiday. I am sure hundreds of excursions were spoiled, the cause of much tears to the young people. We spent most of the morning playing airs on piano, violin and guitar. Some gentlemen came to fish on the lake, so we could not go fishing there. So I got on the big waders after dinner, and Diarmuid got himself rain-proof, and both of us went fishing in the rain in a big stream near the mill. For about an hour all was in vain, but when I was up at the house asking the time, Diarmuid landed a small fellow, and just as I arrived, he swung quite a nice trout on to the bank. I then tried my luck, and almost immediately got gut, hook and all pulled away by a vicious tug. Diarmuid was kind enough to give me the two trout to take home. After tea I said goodbye, thanked Mr. and Mrs. MacDonnell heartily for their kindness, and went off in car driving myself. Barely caught train! Sophie and Irmah not there. They are staying till tomorrow. Did some work as Mam and Pap were out.
