38 THE BROOK BOOK 



the jar into which I had put three big stone-fly 

 nymphs. 



"Are these good for bait?" I said. 



"Ay-uh, fer trout, but it takes all a fellah's time 

 to ketch enough, an' he don't have no time to feesh. 

 What you goin' t' do with 'em?" 



"Oh, I don't know; watch 'em to see what they 

 do," I said. 



"I never see 'em do nothin'," he said, discourag- 

 ingly, as he left me to what seemed to him a foot- 

 less task. I saw that I was losing favor in his eyes 

 from the moment he found I was not "ketchin' 

 bait." If he had not been in such a hurry I 

 should have told him the stone-fly's story. I be- 

 lieve he would have admitted that the creature 

 had some claim to attention, though too wary for 

 his purpose. 



The story of the stone-fly is very like that of 

 the dragon-fly, the May-fly and other insects which 

 live in the water most of the year and fly for a 

 few weeks only. Left while in the egg by its 

 winged mother, the stone-fly nymph waits a few 

 days, then calmly emerges from the eggshell and 

 crawls about. Pressing its flat little body close to 

 the under side of a stone to escape notice, it waits 

 for some creature smaller than itself to come that 

 way. If it succeeds in catching its prey, life begins 

 in earnest for the young stone-fly. It may seem 

 unfortunate from the stone-fly's point of view that 

 brook trout should choose to live in the cool waters 

 of Stony Brook. Many nymphs make glad the 

 stomachs of many hungry trout during the sum- 



