in Wales, the gardener brought in a hare which had been caught in the
potatoes. The order was given to take it to the cook. Johnson asked to
have it placed in his arms. He took it to the window and let it go,
shouting to increase its speed. When his host complained that he had
perhaps spoilt the dinner, Johnson replied by insisting that the rights
of hospitality included an animal which had thus placed itself under the
protection of the master of the garden.

We must proceed, however, to a more serious event. The year 1781 brought
with it a catastrophe which profoundly affected the brief remainder of
Johnson's life. Mr. Thrale, whose health had been shaken by fits, died
suddenly on the 4th of April. The ultimate consequence was Johnson's
loss of the second home, in which he had so often found refuge from
melancholy, alleviation of physical suffering, and pleasure in social
converse. The change did not follow at once, but as the catastrophe of a
little social drama, upon the rights and wrongs of which a good deal of
controversy has been expended.

Johnson was deeply affected by the loss of a friend whose face, as he
said, "had never been turned upon him through fifteen years but with
respect and benignity." He wrote solemn and affecting letters to the
widow, and busied himself strenuously in her service. Thrale had made
him one of his executors, leaving him a small legacy; and Johnson took,
it seems, a rather simple-minded pleasure in dealing with important
commercial affairs and signing cheques for large sums of money. The old
man of letters, to whom three hundred a year had been superabundant
wealth, was amused at finding himself in the position of a man of
business, regulating what was then regarded as a princely fortune. The
brewery was sold after a time, and Johnson bustled about with an
ink-horn and pen in his button-hole. When asked what was the value of