In May, when the larger fish begin to take up their places for the summer, one may expect good sport.  This season, however, has been very disappointing; and, judging by the way the fish were feeding on the bottom for the first fortnight of the month, one is led to expect an early rise of the may-fly.  Until the “fly is up,” the April flies, especially the olive dun, are all that are necessary.  For a couple of weeks before the “fly-fisher’s carnival” sport is always uncertain.

If the wind is in a good quarter, sport may be had; but should it be east, the trout will not leave the caddis, with which the bed of the river is simply alive at this time.  Of late years good sport has been obtained at the latter end of May with small flies.  The may-fly generally comes up on the higher reaches about the last week in May, or about June 1st, though at Fairford, lower down, it is a week earlier.  A good season means a steady rise of fly, lasting for nearly three weeks, but with no great amount of fly on any one day.  A bad may-fly season means, as a rule, a regular “glut” of fly for three or four days, so that the fish are stuffed full almost to bursting point, and will not look at the natural fly afterwards, much less at your neatly “cocked” artificial one.

Large bags can, of course, be made on certain days in the may-fly season; but I do not know of any better than one hundred and six fish in three days, averaging one pound apiece.

Sport, however, is not estimated by the number of fish taken, and there is no better day’s fun for the real fisherman than killing four or five brace of good fish when the trout are beginning to get tired of the fly, but are still to be caught by working hard for them.  The “alder” will often do great execution at this time, and a small blue dun is sometimes very killing in the morning or evening.

After the “green-drake” has lived his short life and disappeared, there is a lull in the fishing, and the sportsman may with advantage take himself off to London to see the Oxford and Cambridge cricket match.  All through July and August, when the water gets low and clear, the best and largest fish may be taken from an hour before sunset up to eleven o’clock at night by the red palmer.  Although it savours somewhat of poaching, I confess to a weakness for evening and night fishing.  The cool water meadows, the setting sun, with its golden glow on the water, add a peculiar charm to fishing at this time of day in the hot summer months.  And then—­the splash of your fish as you hook him!  How magnified is the sound in the dim twilight, when you cannot see, but can only hear and feel your quarry!  And what satisfaction to know that that great “logger-headed” two-pounder, that was devouring goodness knows how many yearlings and fry daily, is safe out of the water and in your basket!

On rainy days in these months good sport may be had with the wet fly; and in September a yellow dun, or a fly that imitates the wasp, will kill, if only you can keep out of sight, and place a well-dried fly right on the fish’s nose.