CORPORAL HENRY R. NEAV1LLE. 187 



it is not always intended to be. Byron had this faculty 

 in perfection, and lets you down from a poetic flight with 

 a d. s. thud. Shakespeare turns from heroic Hotspur 

 to fat Jack Falstaff and Henry Neaville, who had a 

 considerable knowledge of Shakespeare, often para- 

 phrased him. This is what called up the above quota- 

 tion. Henry once said : 



"She lov'd me for the fishes that I caught, 

 And I lov'd her that she did pickle them.'' 



Frank Neaville, Henry and I one summer day went 

 fishing, and we rowed up against the current of Swift 

 Sloo and around into more quiet waters, made fast to a 

 tree top and dropped our lines. Tree tops in these 

 waters were abundant where the freshets had washed the 

 soil from the roots, and the tree toppled into the water, 

 usually kept on growing, or at least in full leaf during 

 the season, and afforded a good place to tie a boat and 

 fish either among the branches or further out. A queer 

 tapping noise came from the boat's bottom. I suspected 

 Frank of making it, because he was full of tricks of that 

 kind, but it kept up and he did not seem to be the 

 cause. "Are there spirits among us seeking communi- 

 cation with mortals?" I asked. 



"Yes," said Henry, "and I'll try to call that particular 

 spirit from the vasty deep, and find out why he knocks 

 on our boat." 



"He wants to come in," Frank explained, "and he's 

 too polite to do it without knocking first." 



Henry put on a plump worm, took the little bullet 

 which served for a sinker and let his line drift under the 

 boat. In a short time it was evident that something was 

 tugging at his line, and his little rod bent as the spirit, or 

 whatever it was, struggled to get loose. Soon a large 



