To an observer we might have seemed to be holding speech of an actual friendliness--speech of the water and the day; of herself and the dog and a little of me.
At length, as I caught an overhanging willow to rest her arms a moment, I felt bold enough to venture words about this assumption of amity which was so becoming in her.

I even confessed that she was reminding me of certain distinguished but truly amiable personages who are commonly to be found in the side-show adjacent to the main tent.

"Particularly of the wild man," I said, to be more specific, for my listener seemed at once to crave details.
"There is a powerfully painted banner swelling in the breeze outside, you know.

It shows the wild man in all his untamed ferocity, in his native jungle, armed with a simple but rather promising club.

A dozen intrepid tars from a British man-of-war--to be seen in the offing--are in the act of casting a net over him.