"That word is quite new to me," he said. "Did you say 'bussock'? I wonder
is that a Lancashire word, or does it come from Ireland? 'Bussock'! Will
you spell it for me, please?"

My sister was far too young and too shy to correct him, and after faintly
murmuring "buffet" again, she ran away in extreme confusion. I am afraid
"bussock" went down in the Professor's notebook as an interesting variant
of "hassock."

In this connection some delightful stories were told by Dr. Nicholson, of
Penrith, an old friend of Professor Newman's and of my father's. The
Professor was staying at Penrith, and the two friends had been walking up
a steep path. When they stopped to rest, the doctor was regretting that
his climbing days were virtually over.

"The truth is," he said humorously, "we are neither of us as steady on our
pins as we once were."

"Pins, Nicholson, pins! What are _pins_?" asked Professor Newman gravely.

On another occasion they were out walking together and the first Lord
Brougham passed them in an open carriage. Dr. Nicholson remarked upon Lord
Brougham wearing "goggles," and Professor Newman said, in his gentle
deliberate way, "Now, Nicholson, may I ask what you exactly mean by
'goggles'?"

The Professor wore hats that in those days were considered amazing: large
white or light grey hats made of soft felt. On one of his visits to
Penrith he had walked up from the station to the house, and he was