'
'But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways? Give
me leave;' taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand, 'this ways,
laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion next to your
hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise; and
then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a cock's neck----'
'A plover's topping's better,' said Williamson.
'And work your gold and silver thread,' pursued Benson, 'up to your
wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all.'
'But you never showed how your head's made,' interrupted Williamson.
'The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can make a head, I
suppose; so, sir, you fasten all.'
'You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,'
cried Williamson.
'Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen, captain;
and then, sir,--count, you divide your wings with a needle.'
'A pin's point will do,' said Williamson.
The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet, which
he had opened for the lady's inspection, a little basket containing a
variety of artificial flies of curious construction, which, as he spread
them on the table, made Williamson and Benson's eyes almost sparkle
with delight.
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