160 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



eyeglass. On my way home from my office, I 

 stopped at Leadenhall Market and bought a fowl 

 with all its feathers on. These purchases cost me 

 a great deal of money, but who cares for money 

 where the perfect thrill is in question ? 



Next morning I was still ungifted with any 

 knack that could be called a knack. The silk 

 broke very vexingly, I found, and the liquid wax 

 was rather ubiquitous, and the hackles did not 

 seem to wind on to the hooks quite so easily as 

 the little treatise said they did; but these were 

 early days to look for great results. During the 

 following Sunday afternoon I called on a friend 

 who boasted himself a tier of flies. In the course 

 of our conversation I mentioned that I had never 

 seen him make a fly, and suggested that he should 

 do so now. He agreed in the most amiable way, 

 sat down there and then at his bench, took a few 

 things out of a cigar-box, and evolved a pale 

 olive in the twinkling of an eye. I said, " Oh, 

 that's how you do it ! " He had, as far as I could 

 see, done none of the things which the book laid 

 down as essential. He replied that some did it 

 one way and others another way. That was how 

 lie did it. It was, he added, only a little knack 

 that one had to get. He made several other flies 

 for me, and wanted me to try my hand, but I said 

 No, I had no ambition of that kind. I went 



