--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 26 number: 9 published: 1923-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, "The Winged Deluge", *Improvement Era* 26, no. 9 (July 1923): 831–833.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2609unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2609unse start_page: 831 end_page: 833 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1923-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2609unse publication_year: 1923 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1923, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Winged Deluge THE WINGED DELUGE 831 happy lot. Poverty had approached him with teeth exposed, a dagger in one hand and a torch in the other. Egbert had backed from this fiery demon from a comfortable room until he found himself lodged in the corner of a three-story building with cob- webs swaying their millions of germs above, the noisy autos, heavy drays and street cars on two sides, the window panes so dusty that they might have served well as a smoked glass for viewing a partial or total ecclipse of the sun. Two planks, — catafalque-life, — with ends resting on two empty kegs, nd some straw on top, which Egbert had borrowed, defied poverty to advance further. There is a carnivorous plant called sundew, which sends out a sticky substance that attracts flies and other insects. On be- ing touched, this adhesive substance holds the insect tightly until dead, and then this plant munches their dead bodies by sucking up all the juice their bodies contain. People wonder what made the sundew a bloodthirsty villain. Years ago, when is was of good character and harmless, its seeds got disseminated in poor soil where there was an insufficient amount of organic matter. The sundew grew thin, pale, and lost its strong mind. It was depraved. Its system was calling for food. It was perish- ing. Nothing came to its relief. A dragon fly lit on it one day and dropped two dead mosquitoes, which it had captured in flight. These dead carcasses lodged in a depression on the leaf, and as the decaying bodies settled down on the hungry sundew's leaves, there was a smacking of its vegetable lips. The morsel tasted good. Half fed, pallid, intestines growling for more, the sundew conceived the idea of setting a trap. The squeezing out of the viscid fluid was the most convenient, and by thus being forced, in the struggle for existence, this plant never worries about food now. Egbert Emmert's case was becoming critical. No human came to his rescue. The hilarious voices floating from the saloon below brought no relief. No dragon fly made any mistake or happened by any accidents to teach him any habits whereby his own body might survive in the great struggle for existence. The tallow candle burned low and, Egbert's intestines grumbled because he refused to eat the oat straw on which he was sleeping. His digestive organs wanted organic matter, but he himself was craving employment. A penny bought him a thin piece of sausage, wrapped in a piece of newspaper. The fragment of the morning Chronicle was the only symptom of a library in Egbert's spidery quarters. His bed was a catafalque of empty beer kegs, but they did not support a bier. The crackling of the oat straw and the romping of a few rats over the loft, interspersed by his own breathing broke the extreme silence in his apart- 832 IMPROVEMENT ERA ments. Here he sometimes wished he might become a rodent. A rusty rat, its body marked with cicatrices, galloped up and licked the grease from Egbert's only piece of literature. The lad pretested and the rodent retired to the back of the loft. "I might as well eat that myself," said he as the rat turned away. As he lifted the fragment up, his eyes met the want column. "Help wanted," was all that remained. Egbert turned without reading, called to his rat roommate and said: "I may want to say, 'God bless you,' a little later." He read: "Wanted — A young man with original ideas to take charge of our advertising department; $4,000 yearly, to begin with, to right man. The McGraw Corporation" Egbert sat down on his pile of straw to meditate. He had spent many months in an effort to discover himself. He believed that he was a fit person for the job. Thousands of applicants he knew would be drawn by this alluring offer. But out of the thousands of others who would apply, how was he to impress the manager of that concern that he was the man who was most competent to fill the place? This was the puzzling question which was confounding him every moment after he read the slip. Darkness came on and he picked up his hat and after brush- ing his clothes walked away. As he stepped under the street lights, a heap of small, slender flies piled down on his head and collar. Egbert looked up as he clawed them off with both hands. There were millions of them flying around. The street car track was piled up with so many that it became necessary to use a broom to clear the rails so the wheels would revolve. Eg- bert had forgotten all about his imaginary job. He watched with much amusement the street walkers dodging, clawing and cursing the annoying flies. The deluge of flies came without warning. Their mystery and even their identity baffled the town's oldest philosophers and scientific men. Egbert went to the library. For two hours he searched for a book on insects and finally recognized from a drawing that the strange and rather impressive visitors of the evening were the ephemerid, or May flies. He sat down with pencil, and as a result the morning paper bore the following item: "TOWN DELUGED WITH A NEW FLY "Young Egbert Emmert tells us all about them. His story follows: " 'The new fly which made its appearance in countless numbers Friday night is not a new fly by any means. Hearing the question as to what kind of a fly it can be by so many of our citizens has led me to prepare this article. " 'The May fly was given the name ephemerid, or ephemeral, fly, because it was supposed to live only one day. But this is erroneous. It is true that they live a very short time, but usually a little longer than one day. They are a very weak insect, and I, myself, thought they were a new spe- cies, but I find that it is a well-known creature, the eggs of which are laid THE WINGED DELUGE 833 in rivers and lakes. These soon hatch out and the young larvae are aquatic, and live for two years feeding in the water. The second year they moult and climb out, usually upon a weed and fly away. The street lights have attracted them from the river. They are harmless, excepting for their cursed annoyance, and make a very desirable food for fish. It is the May fly that you see imitated on most all artificial bait for fishes. " 'In the worm state they may migrate for miles in the river, hence the young which will hatch from the eggs laid in the river may travel several miles up or down the river during the next two years. " 'It seems rather funny, too, that sportsmen in the town have not recog- nized this common fly. And I, too, saw them invade a town in the Great lakes once in such great numbers that the air was flecked with them. Their coming in small numbers, or their appearance one at a time will not attract or impress a person, but when they make their appearance in such large numbers, they leave a lasting impression and consequently everyone seeks to know something about them.'" I When the sunlight gained entrance into Egbert Emmert'a loft the following morning, the most of his troubles had been lost in his deep study of the May fly. He went down on the street and borrowed a copy of the morning paper. Egbert was anxious to see his article in print. As he read the last sentence it stuck deep in his cranium. The gnawing pain in an empty stomach had disappeared. His pick had struck gold. How the fly had impressed him and others was a rich strike, indeed. There was the gold watch left him as his only inheritance by his much respected father. There was a pawn shop in town. Egbert associated himself with the pawn shop, left his material inheritance with the keeper and secured $10 for ten days in return. No breakfast yet. A box of stationary, a good pen, a table at the hotel, and a young man busy plying the pen. A part of the application read: "I know that you are likely to be besieged with applications for the position of advertising manager, but I shall undertake to convince you that out of the hundreds that you are likely to receive, I am the young man best fitted for the place." The application copied, punctuated, read, reread, and finally approved, Egbert smiled as he put the May fly idea into it. The entire box of stationery was utilized, the application copied one hundred times, and mailed simultaneously in separate en- velopes. Ten years afterwards I saw hanging on the wall in the office of the president of a large corporation a beautiful paint- ing of a number of May flies, underneath which was written, "There is nothing so little in nature but what teaches a deep lesson." Chattanooga, Tenrt.