News Flash – Henry Parkhurst Wells had Worms!

The first in our continuing series on Fly-fishing patent attorneys, submitted by Contributing Editor, Cwfly.

As Cloozoe well knows, my starting point with Patent Lawyers must begin with Henry Parkhurst [call me “Parky”] Wells of Brooklyn, New York. But then he might have been called “Park,” reminding the well-read reader of the short lived debate on Formerly Clark’s over whether Harold Steele Gillum was called “Pink” or “Pinkie.” Certainly by the time of Mr. Gillum’s death he was called Pinkie since that is how the New York Times referred to him.

But I delay too long, wondering what to write next, so it’s back to our subject. Parky was a member of the New York bar, perhaps Bar, who had the guts to play with guts. As far as is known (to me and with only minutes of research), Parkhurst, as he was probably called at Amherst, lived alone in Brooklyn in his later years – his sister but a few city blocks away. He was born in Providence, the son of Dr. Phineas Parkhurst Wells (Parky the Elder). I am uncertain if lawyer Parky had a Juris Doctor degree; if so, then no doubt father and son were known as Dr. Parky the Elder and Dr. Parky the Younger. It really doesn’t matter anymore. What does matter is our Parky’s contribution to fly fishing – no pancake patents here – through his advocacy for Julius Vom Hofe and his own reel designs.

Although few read anymore, and one can hardly rely on the accuracy of what is written, I commend Parky’s Fly-Rods and Fly-Tackle. After all, the review in The New York Sun noted, “The value of the author’s instructions and suggestions is signally enhanced by their minuteness and lucidity.” It doesn’t get any better than that. It is within the green cloth binding of this book that one will find Parky’s detailed description of lonely nights spent in the Borough of Brooklyn with his collection of worms. Here the reader can find the proper way to disembowel a silk worm so no time is wasted on your own pet project. Furthermore, one might be drawn to The American Salmon Fisherman. The Atlantic Monthly noted, “The author is alert and companionable.” Sounds like Cloozoe to me. Both those quotes are actually, believe it or not, accurate. They may be found at the back of a modest book, Practical Lawn Tennis, 1893, written by one Dr. James Dwight (another sporting-physician). Makes one wonder if the 19th Century physicians and lawyers were doing anything other than playing tennis and fishing. Coupled with the adverts for Parky’s books, one will find such interesting publications noted as, How to Get Strong and How to Stay So, by William Blakie, How Women Should Ride, by De Hurst, and another Blakie favorite, Sound Bodies for Our Boys and Girls. Quite a library there!