CHAPTER XII 



IN PURSUIT OF THE MAY FLY 

 June IQOO 



MILE away from our river a wise old 

 gander, surrounded by half-a-dozen mem- 

 bers of his family, was taking his after- 

 noon snooze by the side of a pond in a farmyard. 

 " Quang-quang" says he, sleepily ; " quang-quang- 

 quang? say the geese, drowsily, waking up. This 

 means, translated into the language of the bipeds 

 that don't wear feathers, "Time's up; let us be 

 moving." Master Gander stood up, lazily swung 

 his great wings, and waddled off towards the bank. 

 There he saw a strange insect which at once 

 brought to his mind the joys of days gone by. He 

 seized the insect. " Hey-ho ! " says he, " quang- 

 quang-quango, hurrah ! The MAY FLY IS UP. 

 Off we go ! " 



Let it not be supposed that Master Gander and 

 his flock were going to waddle a mile on their 

 tender webbed feet along the hard turnpike road 



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