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Clergyman as he was, and knowing that Jesus Christ would never have returned a blow, and that this spirit of the Lord was what saved the world, he had been uneasy that his adopted child behaved just like Jesus. That a man should be so made as not to care to return a blow, never occurred to Mr. Porson as possible.
Porson went on. "I myself had inquired at Leighton's here, but with little hope of finding it, for no one who stole it would have disposed of it so near home. I then wrote to several friends in the large towns, and one of them, a clergyman at York, wrote to me two days ago to say that just such a book as I had described was on sale in the window of one of the booksellers there.
"I don't think you will get anything out of him, Mr. Porson," the constable said.
Porson are ready to become your bail to any amount; but we could not think of accepting bail in a charge of murder." Ned bowed and followed the constable without a word to the cells. His appearance had not been calculated to create a favorable impression.
Smith, I mean, does all that." "She paints too!" said Porson. "That's rather jolly." "Very," said Mr. Watkins, though he really did not think so, and, feeling the conversation was drifting a little beyond his grasp, added: "I came down here to paint Hammerpond House by moonlight." "Really!" said Porson. "That's rather a novel idea." "Yes," said Mr.
Porson glanced at it, and instantly his round, simple face became clever and alert. Here he was on his own ground. In five minutes he had mastered the thing. "Yes," he said, in a quick voice, "this is quite clear, but there is some mistake in the addition making a difference of 87 pounds 3s. 10d. in your favour. Well, where is the schedule of assets?" "The schedule of assets, my dear John?
"You have done me a world of good," she said when Mrs. Porson rose to leave. "I never see any one but the doctor, and he is the worst person in the world for a gossip. He ought to know everything, but somehow he seems to know nothing. You will come again, won't you?
Letters will reach me there." Morris laid down the sheet with a sad heart, for he had been truly attached to his uncle Porson, whose simple virtues he understood and appreciated. I was present at the time, and did my best to soothe his last moments with such consolations as can be offered by a relative who is not a clergyman.
He is expert in all the dead and in most of the living languages; but he can neither speak his own fluently, nor write it correctly. A person of this class, the second Greek scholar of his day, undertook to point out several solecisms in Milton's Latin style; and in his own performance there is hardly a sentence of common English. Such was Dr. . Such is Dr. . Such was not Porson.
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