hrow, nice judging, the delusive fly."

THOMSON'S _Seasons_.

When does the may-fly come, the gorgeous succulent may-fly, that we all
love so well in the quiet valleys where the trout streams wend their
silent ways?

It comes "of a Sunday," answers the keeper, who would fain see the
prejudice against fishing "on the Sabbath" scattered to the four winds
of heaven. He thinks it very contrary of the fly that it should
invariably come up "strong" on the one day in the week on which the
trout are usually allowed a rest.

"'Tis a most comical job, but it always comes up thickest of a Sunday,"
he frequently exclaims. Then, if you press him for further particulars,
he grows eloquent on the subject, and tells you as follows: "We always
reckons to kill the most fish on 'Durby day.' 'Tis a most singular
thing, but the 'Durby day' is always the best."

Now, considering that Derby day is a movable feast, saving that it
always comes on a Wednesday, there would appear to be no more logic in
this statement than there is in the one about the fly coming up strong
on a Sunday. However, so deep rooted is the theory that the Derby and
the cream of the may-fly fishing are inseparably associated that we have
come to talk of the biggest rise of the season as "the Derby day,"
whatever day of the week it may happen to be.

Thus Tom Peregrine, the keeper, when he sees the fly gradually coming
up, will say: "I can see how it will be--next Friday will be Durby day.
You must 'meet' the fly that day; 'be sure and give it the meeting,'
sir. We shall want six rods on the water on Friday." He is so
desperately keen to kill fish that he would sooner have six rods and
moderate sport for each fisherman than three rods and good sport all
round. Wonderfully sanguine is this fellow's temperament:

"A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays
And confident to-morrows."

It is always "just about a good day for fishing" before you start; and
if you have a bad day, he consoles you with an account of an
extraordinary day last week, or one you are to have next week. Sometimes
it was last season that was so good; "or it will be a splendid season
next year," for some reason or other only known to himself.

Three good anglers are quite sufficient for two miles of fishing on the
best of days. Experience has taught us that "too many cooks spoil the
broth" even in the may-fly season.

I shall never forget a most lamentable, though somewhat laughab