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JAMES A. HENSHALL, MD Bass, Pike, and Perch (An Excerpt) From Bass, Pike, Perch and Others (1903) THE DIFFERENCES of opinion among anglers, of all men, pertaining to the practice of their art, has become axiomatic. Some will differ even to the estimation of a hair in the legs of an artificial fly, while it is averred others will go so far as to "divide a hair 'twixt south and southwest side," as Butler has it. But, seriously , there are several moot points which I have endeavored to discuss in the following piscatorial polemic. Two friends went fishing. Both were famous black-bass anglers , with the enthusiasm born of a genuine love and an inherent appreciation of the gentle art so common among Kentucky gentlemen. One was a fly-fisher, the other a bait-fisher. Each was a devotee to his especial mode of angling, though generously tolerant of the other's method. They had fished together for years when the dogwood and redbud blossomed in the spring, and when the autumnal tints clothed the hillsides with scarlet and gold. They differed in their methods of fishing from choice, or from some peculiar, personal idiosyncrasy, for each was an adept with both bait and fly. But this difference in their piscatorial practices, like the diversity of nature, produced perfect harmony instead of discord. Each extolled the advantages and sportsmanship of his own method, but always in a brotherly and kindly manner; never dictatorial or opinionated in argument, or vainglorious and boastful as to his skill, for both were possessed of the gen114 erous impulses of gentlemen and the kindly influences of the gentle art. Moreover, they were innately conscious of a common aim, and differed only as to the ways and means of best attaining that end, which, while dissimilar, were not inharmonious. And so the Silver Doctor and the Golden Shiner, as they dubbed each other, went trudging along the bank of the merry stream together. The Doctor, lightly equipped with only rod, flybook, and creel, sometimes relieved the Shiner by toting his minnow bucket or minnow net. They were fishing a rocky, gently flowing river, characteristic of the Blue Grass section. They stopped at a broad, lakelike expansion of the stream, caused by a mill-dam, and, in a quiet cove at the entrance of a clear brook, Golden Shiner proceeded to fill his minnow bucket with lively minnows, using for the purpose an umbrella-like folding net. This he attached to a long, stout pole, and, after baiting it with crushed biscuit, lowered it into the water. In a short time he had all the bait necessary—chubs, shiners, and steelbacks. "The golden shiner is the best of all," said he, "especially for roily or milky water; but the chub and steelback are stronger and livelier on the hook, and for very clear water are good enough." They then proceeded below the mill-dam, where there was a strong riffle, with likely-looking pools and eddies. "The proper way to hook a minnow is through the lips," continued Golden Shiner, "especially for casting. One can give a more natural motion to the minnow on drawing it through the water. For still-fishing, hooking through the tail or under the back fin will answer; but even then I prefer my method, unless the minnow is less than two inches in length." And he made a long cast toward the eddy of a large boulder. "For the same reason," acquiesced Silver Doctor, "artificial flies are tied with the head next the snell"—industriously casting to right and left over the riffle. "But some flies are tied with the tail next to the snell," ventured Shiner. JAMES A. HENSHALL, MD II5 [18.226.150.175] Project MUSE (2024-04-25 12:19 GMT) "That is true, but it is unnatural. I never saw an insect swim tail first up-stream. Nature is the best teacher, and one should endeavor to follow her lead." Just then the Doctor snapped off his point fly. Upon examination he found that the snell was dry and brittle next to the head of the fly, though he had previously soaked it well in a glass of water. He discovered that a drop of shellac varnish had encroached beyond the head of the fly for perhaps the sixteenth of an inch on the snell. This portion, being waterproof, remained dry and brittle — a very common fault with cheap flies. "This fly," said the Doctor, "was given...

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