9 8 FRESH WOODS. 



of times the fish " came short " at them, and 

 deplored the ill-luck which rendered their 

 striking ineffectual, and how they ought to 

 have caught so many brace, but didn't. They 

 vowed to come again to-morrow and have it 

 out with these knowing fish, not a man of 

 them in the least disheartened. I hope they 

 had better luck on the morrow, but I was 

 not there to see. 



I enjoyed the pleasant stroll as only one 

 can who so rarely finds the opportunity. I 

 occupied myself for some time in witnessing 

 the birth, life, and death of a single May Fly. 

 I am not an entomologist, so I cannot tell 

 the average period of the life of a May Fly. 

 The particular one I took note of struggled 

 up to a new life from the bottom to the 

 surface of the water, shook himself free of 

 his watery shroud, spread out his wings, and 

 fluttered to fly; but I suppose, in the first 

 exuberance of his newborn existence, he was 

 too eager. His fragile wings got wet and 

 heavy ; he could only lift himself two or 

 three inches from the surface of the water, 

 and then fall back. I followed him down the 

 placid stream for a quarter of a mile or more ; 

 he struggled hard for some time, but at 

 length lay flat. He seemed to have quite 

 given over the fight for existence, and I 



