This section is from the book "Fish Hatching, And Fish Catching", by R. Barnwell Roosevelt, Seth Green. Also available from Amazon: Fish Hatching, And Fish Catching.
This is a subject of infinite variety. We scarcely know where to begin, nor how much to say. We would advise every angler to learn to tie his own flies - not that he will or should always do so, because it would often be an inexcusable waste of time - but in order that he may be able to thoroughly know a good fly when he sees one. The only perfect critic of a picture is a man who can paint, so the only correct judge of a fly is one who has made them. The art of fly tying is by no means difficult; there is not the same labor expended in the operation that there was formerly. The wings are rarely reversed, and good varnish makes up for defects in finish. The best and shortest way to learn the modus operandi is by taking lessons from a friend, or a professional. A half dozen lessons, with some practice, will teach all the essentials.
The fly-tyer needs a few utensils - such as spring-pliers, bench vise, mohair, floss silk, gold and silver tinsel, varnish, hooks, sewing silk, and feathers of many kinds, especially the hackles from cocks' necks.. The feathers may be wrapped in paper; even put into open envelopes, if the whole is kept in a box with a few pieces of camphor. No insect is so easily defied as the moth - and none, we believe, does such an enormous amount of damage. There are very few things that a moth can or will eat; but those that he does fancy are often valuable, and them he destroys utterly - furs, flannels, feathers; but above all feathers are his delight. He simply revels in the careless fisherman's stock of flies, or fly-tying materials. Yet he cannot penetrate through a leaf of this book, though he be starving on one side with abundant plenty - a groaning board of delicious feathers of most delicate fibre on the other. He would perish miserably within scent of paradise. Neither can he get through cotton goods of any kind.
How many anglers wail yearly over the destruction of their flies by moths, and it may not be amiss to add here how many anglers' wives compel their husbands to replace ruined furs at more than the cost of a dozen pleasant fishing trips, when the simplest precautions are absolute guaranty of safety. Place books, flies, feathers, furs or flannels, either in paper, gummed with mucilage at the edges, or in bags of muslin or linen, or cotton goods, of any kind, and no evil minded moth can ever enter. If there are no moths or moth eggs in the fabric or materials when put away, none will ever get in. For fly books, the simplest plan is to have a muslin bag a little longer than the book, with a tape sewed fast an inch or two from the mouth. Put the book in, twist round the end of the bag tight, and tie the tape firmly. That is all, and all mothdom will gnash its teeth in helpless rage. Other things may be put in large bags of brown paper, which of course must not have holes in it, and the end - can be gummed, or roiled over several times - for moths will follow an opening, however narrow, some distance, if they scent game beyond, and the parcel is then to be tied with a string. The man who does this with the precious means of his sport, can sleep easy, with no nightmares of merciless moths to disturb his mind.
As for the colors of flies, we can only say they should be of all colors. Their hues are infinite, and their name is legion, and forever changing at that. Old and well known varieties are continually coming up under new names, till no man can keep the run of them. What with the alterations of the names of flies, and the improvements in the learned names of fish, it has got to such a pass that the poor angler no longer can honestly tell what he catches, nor what he takes it with. If the fly dealers, on one hand, and the savans of the Smithsonian Institute on the other, keep on, we poor simple-minded fishermen had better give up, or we shall soon know as little what we are talking about as other people.
There are delicate shades and differences of color in flies which affect their killing qualities whatever writers who love to generalize may claim. Every angler has known a half worn out fly at certain times, although its feathers were partly gone and its color almost washed out, prove more taking than a fresh one of precisely the same kind. There are times when trout and salmon will accept simply one fly and no other. These cases are rare, but they will occur. No rule can be given to meet them, and the flies used in different localities are so entirely different that no special directions can be given concerning their selection. Let the angler have a fairly well filled book, and then if he is visiting an untried stream let him consult some one who has fished it before him. The salmon flies for American waters are more simple, less gorgeous in golden pheasant topknot than the English and Scotch, and for sea trout and the trout of Long Island and the ocean coast the red ibis is in vogue, while it is generally discarded on inland waters. The latter peculiarity has been explained on the theory that trout having access to salt water take it for shrimp. There is only one objection to this explanation ; shrimp are red, it is true, but only after they have been boiled, and as trout do not boil their shrimp so far as we know, the resemblance to an ibis is lost.
We cannot within the limits of this work give rules relating to the colors and make of the innumerable flies that are used ; for that a book equally voluminous would be needed, but there are points in reference to their size which must be borne in mind, and partial directions that we can give for their tying. For large, turbulent, rough waters, and early in the season, large flies are needed, but in bright, summer weather on clear streams or ponds they should be as small as they can be made. There is a regular natural gradation between these points. In Lake Superior, a large, coarse, red hackle made "buzz" as it is called, that is, with the hackle standing out the whole length of the body is probably the most killing. For Caledonia brook and the ponds of Long Island, in the day time during July and August, it is only the smallest midges made of various colors that will take at all. On dark days larger flies may be used than in sunshiny weather.
In disposing the three flies on the leader or casting line, the largest should be used as the upper dropper and the smallest as the stretcher. This arrangement will maintain the taper of the line and make them fall more lightly on the water. The gut lengths that fasten the droppers to the leader should be short, the upper say four inches and the second three, and they should be tied one about a foot or eighteen inches from the end of the main line, and the other half way between that and the stretcher. For very short casts in small brooks more very small fish can be taken in a given time if the three flies are placed only about two feet apart and with long strands to the droppers, so that they may be all trailed along the surface together. This arrangement is to be adopted by enthusiastic anglers who aspire to take a thousand trout averaging an ounce apiece in a summer day, but will not suit fishermen who seek larger fish.
A neat and ingenious invention in fly books has been made by a gentleman in New York, for holding the flies on small hooks like those of the hooks and eyes of ladies' dresses. The plan is not patented and enables the angler to quickly remove or replace one fly without disturbing the others. It may be applied to an ordinary letter envelope of parchment paper which can be made to hold a dozen flies and answer all the purposes of a fly-book, for a day's fishing.
 
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