Fish-hooks. 31 



I see I have diverged from what I intended to say, 

 and interpolated a narrative which may seem to some 

 out of place. But if it will serve to impress upon the 

 beginner how greatly the pang which follows the loss of 

 a large fish, exceeds the trouble and expense of provid- 

 ing first-class tackle at the outset, its practical utility 

 will, it is hoped, justify the digression. With every 

 appliance of the best, such losses will still occasionally 

 occur even to the most skilful, but this will then happen 

 but seldom, nor is the disappointment imbittered by 

 self-reproach. Good-luck comes to all at times, and he 

 is the most successful, in angling as in life, who pre- 

 pares beforehand to take full advantage of his opportu- 

 nities. 



In the angling, of which it is hoped the foregoing will 

 give some idea, the fish, whatever they may do after- 

 wards, almost invariably take the fly in still, or almost 

 still, water. They will not hook themselves. The fly is 

 some distance under water, and the leader at least, if not 

 the line, is partially submerged as well. If there is any 

 wind, and the cast is not with it, some sag is thrown into 

 the line from this cause, while the slowness with which 

 the fly is moved renders the sense of touch unreliable to 

 indicate when the angler should act. Add to all these 

 the extreme brevity of the interval during which the fish 

 may be fastened at all, and almost every advantage would 

 seem to be against the hook. Certainly far more so than 

 when a trout bounces out of water and dashes, like a 

 tiger upon its prey, at a fly quickly impelled over the 

 surface by a necessarily tight line. If, in addition to all 

 these drawbacks, the angler is handicapped by defects 

 in the construction of the hook itself, it seems to me that 

 these defects should be more apparent than in perhaps 



