THE DUFFER'S FORTNIGHT 199 



twig. We cannot say that it did not happen 

 like that in those good old times, because we simply 

 do not know. 



But we can say heartily, and with one accord, that 

 so far as the present is concerned the true inter- 

 pretation of " Duffer's fortnight " is " the fortnight 

 wherein the angler proves himself a duffer." You 

 do not carry any residuum of three-pounders on 

 withy twigs nowadays. Your pockets can be kept 

 for their proper functions, as receptacles for 

 tobacco, matches, fly-boxes, and the like, and your 

 creel will always have room for a big bunch of 

 marsh marigolds, or other trophies, with which the 

 fisherman likes to fill up emptiness, and at the same 

 time to placate his womenfolk at home. After 

 giving many and wonderful proofs of incompetence 

 in one direction, it is pleasant to be able to show 

 signs of abilities in another. To be able to recognise 

 marsh marigolds when one sees them and thereupon 

 to gather of them largely does afford some consola- 

 tion. " If I can't catch fish I can, at any rate, 

 appreciate flowers " that is the sort of attitude. 

 Later in the year a habit of seeking such extraneous 

 comfort may be even more useful, as when the 

 meditation runs, " I don't care much about fish, 

 but I do like mushrooms." This, however, is a 

 digression. 



The Mayfly is an extraordinary insect, and it 



