MAYFLY-FISHING. 95 



is sorely exercised ; he sees something float- 

 ing on the top of the water which looks the 

 very picture of a May Fly, but yet there is 

 something strange and uncanny about it. 

 He examines it with a critical eye ; sometimes 

 he gives it a flap with his tail. Again he 

 looks, he hesitates, he makes a half-hearted 

 rush at it, feels a prick in the edge of his lip, 

 and is off. 



Monday last was my first experience of 

 May Fly-fishing in these degenerate scientific 

 days, and then I did not fish myself I only 

 went to look on. It was a lovely June day 

 in my youth the May Fly always used to 

 come up in May we were on a delightful 

 stream, not 100 miles away from Canterbury. 

 The clubmen were out in full force ; I saw 

 seven of them in one pleasant meadow. They 

 were not more than a hundred yards apart ; 

 the May Fly came up splendidly, and the 

 trout flopped up greedily after them. Each 

 angler selected his own trout, and stuck to 

 him steadily from morn to eve. It was a 

 sight to see those enthusiastic anglers, each 

 intent upon his own fish, and firm believer in 

 the killing qualities of his own particular 

 imitation of the natural fly, and its destructive 

 power. How keenly they watched every rise 

 of their particular trout ! How vigorously 



H 



