Quite distressed to see my venerated friend broken down. Bad for him
to stop at home and brood over calamity. Best thing would be change of
scene and thought. He had made engagement to-day to go to Pumpherston
and inspect oil and candle works. Better keep it.

"No," said Mr. G., wearily, "oil comforts me not, nor candles either.
Now, if it were pork, it would be different. Few things so interesting
as pork. Not from a dietetic point of view, but regarded historically.
As I mentioned to a Correspondent the other day, in the course of
Homeric work I have examined into the use of pork by the ancients.
A very curious subject. I shall make some references to it in
the closing paper which I am writing for _Good Words_ on the Old
Testament. I am under the impression that the dangers which lurk
beneath the integument of a leg (or sirloin) of pork, are specially
connected with the heat of Southern climates."

Curious to see how rapidly his aspect changed as these thoughts
pressed upon his mind. When I came in, he had been sitting in an
arm-chair, with his head resting on his hand, and his brow painfully
wrinkled. He looked quite old--at least seventy. Now he was up,
walking about the room with springy stride, his mind actively engaged
in framing theories on the use of pork by HOMER's contemporaries.
If I could only keep him engaged, he would forget the blow that had
descended upon him, and would regain his usual equanimity. A question
as to whether he thought Achilles liked sage with his pork, cunningly
led him on to a long disquisition, till, in a quarter of an hour,
he was quite a changed man, and set out with great energy for
Pumpherston.

Fine enthusiasm along the route. Immense reception from the working