A MAY-FLY DAY 105 



of the attention he pays to things apart from 

 the catching of trout. I will not invite their 

 criticism ; I share their views of the influence 

 of a heavy basket upon the enjoyment of a day's 

 fishing, and my three fish, weighing nearly nine 

 pounds, bring a comforting strain upon my 

 right shoulder. The May-fly rise began in the 

 late afternoon, and two of my three captives 

 were taken during that time, but not with May- 

 fly. Far be it from me to speak slightingly 

 of the " duffer's paradise." As I fish this 

 stream with so small a rod, I do not like a great 

 flapping May-fly at the end of a fine cast, for 

 the simple reason that I cannot manage it 

 properly. I love the little flick behind me of 

 a tiny dry-fly, because I know that, when it does 

 that, it will go forward accurately and alight 

 with wings cocked, within a few inches of where 

 I want to place it. A May-fly does not flick, 

 it flaps. The fish I have so far hooked have 

 all taken a small fly of the size that is called by 

 the tackle-makers " 00 " ; and now I come 

 to the last chance of seeing a rising fish on my 

 way home. 



I am passing through a little wood where a 

 mill-pool is overhung with trees. The sluices 

 have been opened for some days to let the pro- 

 cession of weeds, cut in the higher reaches, pass 



