"In the month of April, a few years back," commences the witness, "I took my eldest chap, an eight year old boy, but stout and bold enough for a twelve year old--and sauntered down to Beech river, to spend the evening [Footnote: Evening, in this place, signifies from noon until dark; that's the Southern and Western notion always.] fishing. Finding a large beech, whose spreading roots formed a natural easy chair, with arms to it, I threw my line into the stream, and myself into the cavity, to take the thing deliberately as I generally do on such occasions. There had been a rise in Beech river sufficient to muddy the water, and I knew the only chance was for cat (_bull-pouts_ the Yankees call them,) so I chose a big hook and baited with a chunk of bacon, big enough for an eight-pounder at least. That hook was a Limerick, for which I had sent all the way to Porter, of 'The Spirit'--that hook I was never more to behold. "The boy chose for himself a steep place about ten yards below me, and after sticking his pole in the mud, like a lazy fellow, as he is, amused himself by counting the stamens in some sorrel-flowers that grew thick thereabouts. I listened to his chatter for a while as he vacillated in his numbers--eight--nine--ten--twelve--until my own thoughts took an interesting turn, and I heard to more of him for several minutes. Then the sound of his voice again struck one, but a little distance further down stream, as he tailed out--'Oh, Pa, look!' "Being well accustomed to his 'mares' nests,' I did not turn until he had repeated several times the same words, and it was the singularity of his tones at last that caused me to do it. His voice was indescribably plaintive, clear, but low, and each vowel sound was drawn out at great length, thus--'Oh-h-h-h, Pa-a-a-a, loo-oo-oo-ook,'--with the diminuendo, soft as the ring of a glass vessel, when struck. I have heard Kyle, the flutist, while executing some of his thrilling touches, strike his low notes very much like it. Slewing myself partly round in my seat, I observed the little fellow standing bent forward, his hands stretched out before him as if shielding his face from a bush, while his whole body worked to and fro like the subjects in certain mesmeric experiments that I nave observed when first they are brought under 'the influence' of the operator. His face was partly turned from me, but the cheek, which I saw was pale as death, and his cloth cap was trembling on the back part of his head, as if forced there by the workings of the scalp.