"Oh yes, he told me so. You shall see the boys this afternoon. They are
fine-hearted lads, and much may be done with them. There are six. Two of
them are pretty well advanced. They read Euripides and Horace. Is
Euripides a favourite of yours?"

"He is tender, plaintive, and passionate," I answered; "but perhaps I
may be pardoned if I venture to prefer the vigour and majesty of the
sterner tragedian."

"You mean you like Æschylus better. Do you write poetry, Mr Stukely? Not
Latin verses, but English poetry."

"I do not, sir."

"Well, I am glad of that. It struck me that you did. Will you really
take no refreshment? Are you not fatigued?"

"Not in the least, sir. This lovely prospect, for one who has seen so
little of nature as I have, is refreshment enough for the present."

"Ah," said Mr Fairman, sighing faintly, "you will get accustomed to it.
There is something in the prospect, but more in your own mind. Some of
our poor fellows would be easily served and satisfied, if we could feed
them on the prospect. But if you are not tired you shall see more of it
if you will. I have to go down to the village. We have an hour till
dinner-time. Will you accompany me?"

"With pleasure, sir."