A MAY-FLY DAY 111 



of which their water-life could have given them 

 no conception. Mrs. Gatty's parable about the 

 Dragon-fly, who, to some of his brother-water- 

 creatures in the pond, was " not lost but gone 

 before," comes back from the memories of child- 

 hood. But I am wandering with the May-flies 

 into regions celestial. Dry-fly fishers must not 

 digress from their business, the catching of fish. 

 We went home to supper. There was a trout, 

 with flesh rosy and firm. There was also salad, 

 gooseberry-tart, and cider from a cool cellar. 

 Brethren of the Dry-fly, I bid you Good-night, 

 and may your dreams be as pleasant as my 

 waking hours on a May-fly day. 



