Under this
eminent man, whom in Greek I cognominated Cyclops _Diphrelates_
(Cyclops the Charioteer), I, and others known to me, studied the
diphrelatic art. Excuse, reader, a word too elegant to be pedantic. As
a pupil, though I paid extra fees, it is to be lamented that I did not
stand high in his esteem. It showed his dogged honesty (though,
observe, not his discernment) that he could not see my merits. Let us
excuse his absurdity in this particular by remembering his want of an
eye. Doubtless _that_ made him blind to my merits. In the art of
conversation, however, he admitted that I had the whip-hand of him. On
the present occasion great joy was at our meeting. But what was Cyclops
doing here? Had the medical men recommended northern air, or how? I
collected, from such explanations as he volunteered, that he had an
interest at stake in some suit-at-law now pending at Lancaster; so that
probably he had got himself transferred to this station for the purpose
of connecting with his professional pursuits an instant readiness for
the calls of his lawsuit.
Meantime, what are we stopping for? Surely we have now waited long
enough. Oh, this procrastinating mail, and this procrastinating post-
office! Can't they take a lesson upon that subject from _me_? Some
people have called _me_ procrastinating. Yet you are witness,
reader, that I was here kept waiting for the post-office.
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