“I have—ahem!—almost forgotten my Horace,” sighed our guest.
“One might say to you, as was said to the non-whist-player, What an unhappy old age you are laying up for yourself, Mr. Hawthorne!”
“Well, reverend sir, so long as a man has the Times he can defy ennui; every leader is an essay.”
“You cannot commit the Times to memory.”
“I read it every day, sir,” was the pompous reply.
“Apropos of the Times, they tell a story of Chief-Baron Pigott which is eminently characteristic. He is one of the most scrupulous, painstaking men the world ever saw, who, sooner than do a criminal injustice, would go over evidence ad nauseam and weigh the pros and cons, driving the bar nearly to distraction. One day a friend found him upon the steps of his house superintending the removal of a huge pile of newspapers.
“‘What papers are those, Chief-Baron?’ he asked.
“‘The London Times.’
“‘Do you read the Times regularly?’
“‘Oh! dear, yes.’