CHAPTER II. 



THE MAYFLY. 



" Fly disporting in the shade, 

 Wert thou for the angler made ? 

 To grace his hook — is this thy fate ? 

 And be some greedy fish's bait ? 



Fly aloft on gladsome wing I 

 See one comes -with eager spring, 

 He'll dip thee far beneath the wave : 

 And doom thee to a watery grave." 



May has nearly run its course. We have an ancient 

 promise that the seasons shall never fail, and though some- 

 times our variable climate makes it difficult to draw a hard- 

 and-fast line between summer and winter, in the long run 

 you may be sure seed-time and harvest come round in very 

 much the same fashion as they appeared to our forefathers. 

 I pack my portmanteau as I make these sage reflections, 

 and am grateful that the spring has been one of the time- 

 honoured sort. March winds prevailed at the proper time, 

 the April showers fell soft, and the May flowers bloomed 

 without delay. And there has arrived a letter announcing 

 the advent of the green drake. 



Mayfly fishing is not, to my mind, altogether a satisfac- 

 tory style of angling, yet I grieve me much if the Mayfly 

 season pass without taking advantage of it. The fish are 

 so terribly on the " rampage '' at this time that it seems like 

 catching them at a mean disadvantage. The silly trout 



