of an anecdote which I remember to have heard respecting the late eloquent statesman, Charles James Fox; who, walking up Bond Street from one of the club houses with an illustrious personage, laid him a wager that he would see more cats than the Prince in his walk, and that he might take which side of the street he liked. When they got to the top, it was found that Mr. Fox had seen thirteen cats, and the Prince not one. The royal personage asked for an explanation of this apparent miracle; Mr. Fox said, "Your Royal Highness took, of course, the shady side of the way, as most agreeable; I knew that the sunny side would be left to me, and cats always prefer the sunshine." HAL.-There! Poietes; by following my advice you have immediately hooked a fish; and while you are catching a brace, I will tell you an anecdote, which is as much related to fly fishing as that of Physicus, and which affords an elucidation of a particular effect of light. A manufacturer of carmine, who was aware of the superiority of the French colour, went to Lyons for the purpose of improving his process, and bargained with the most celebrated manufacturer in that capital for the acquisition of his secret, for which he was to pay a thousand pounds. He was shown all the processes, and saw a beautiful colour produced, and he found not the least difference in the French mode of fabrication and that which he had constantly adopted. He appealed to the manufacturer, and insisted that he must have concealed something. The manufacturer assured him that he had not, and invited him to see the process a second time. He minutely examined the water and the materials, which were the same as his own, and very much surprised, said, "I have lost my labour and my money, for the air of England does not permit us to make good carmine." "Stay," says the Frenchman, "do not deceive yourself: what kind of weather is it now?" "A bright sunny day," said the Englishman. "And such are the days," said the Frenchman, " on which I make my colour. Were I to attempt to manufacture it on a dark or cloudy day, my result would be the same as yours. Let me advise you, my friend, always to make carmine on bright and sunny days." "I will," says the Englishman; "but I fear I shall make very little in London." POIET.-Your anecdote is as much to the purpose as Physicus's; yet I am much obliged to you for the hint respecting the effect of shadow, for I have several times in May and June had to complain of too clear a sky, and wished, with Cotton, for A day with not too bright a beam; HAL.-Whilst we have been conversing, the May flies, which were in such quantities, have become much fewer; and I believe the reason is, that they have been greatly diminished by the flocks of swallows which every where pursue them: I have seen a single swallow take four, in less than a quarter of a minute, that were descending to the water. POIET.-I delight in this living landscape! The swallow is one of my favourite birds, and a rival of the nightingale; for he glads my sense of seeing as much as the other does my sense of hearing. He is the joyous prophet of the year--the harbinger of the best season: he lives a life of enjoyment amongst the loveliest forms of nature: winter is unknown to him; and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn, for the myrtle and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa:-he has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure. Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautiful, and transient. The ephemeræ are saved by his means from a slow and lingering death in the evening, and killed in a moment, when they have known nothing of life but pleasure. He is the constant destroyer of insects,-the friend of man; and with the stork and the ibis, may be regarded as a sacred bird. His instinct, which gives him his appointed seasons, and which teaches him always when |