OF THE PERFECT THRILL 159 



thrill ! Gods ! Was there any resisting such 

 a promise ? And so simply won ! The condition 

 precedent to this unimagined and supreme ex- 

 perience was the mere tying of a fly. At that 

 time I knew that fly-tying was the easiest thing 

 in the world. It wanted a knack. But what was 

 a knack that it should stand in the way of my 

 realising the perfect thrill ? Anyone can acquire 

 a knack. A little effort, a little patience, a few 

 failures, and lo ! one day the knack comes, and 

 you wonder why you could not do it from the 

 first. 



This vision of the perfect thrill was given to me 

 on an early day of a rather recent April. I think, 

 to be as accurate as possible, that it was the first 

 of the month. My whole soul consumed with 

 eagerness, I cabbed it to a tackle-shop and bought 

 a small handbook on fly-tying. I read this book 

 in an hour. I had not been mistaken. Fly-tying 

 was the easiest thing in the world. 1 cabbed it 

 back to the tackle-shop and bought a vice, some 

 dozens of assorted eyed hooks, many reels of 

 brightly coloured silk, two pairs of delicately 

 curved scissors, half a dozen forceps, a pound 

 of beeswax, a bottle of liquid wax, a quantity 

 of dubbin, some rare furs, and an " indispensable " 

 packet of hackle and wing-feathers. I got, as an 

 afterthought, a few pike scales and a jeweller's 



