My Neighbor's Wood-Shed 205 



met, many a bird, butterfly, spider, centi- 

 pede, or wasp. I never could tell just why 

 it was, but a sunny day in winter or a rainy 

 day in summer draws the odd chara&ers of 

 the neighborhood to this shed as tainted 

 meat draws flies. It is the more difficult to 

 explain because the tavern is not far off, and 

 the owner of the shed has never been known 

 to offer even a sample of his vinegar. He 

 was not averse to company, on off days, or 

 when there was nothing to do, but he has 

 been heard to remark anent the presence of 

 friends, " providin* it don't cost nothinV 



It was at my neighbor's wood-shed that I 

 first met Winkle, " the eel-man," and, hear- 

 ing such strange stories about him, I culti- 

 vated his acquaintance and held his friend- 

 ship till he died. He certainly was an odd 

 fish, but after a while you had the impression 

 that he needed only education to make a man 

 of mark. One day in summer it was told 

 in my hearing that Winkle saw a sturgeon 

 in Crosswicks Creek, and, having at hand 

 no spear or other means of catching it, he 

 made a bold dive and got a grip that the 

 sturgeon could not loosen, and man and fish 

 went dashing down-stream, nearly to the 



