ss translated into common sense.

(What a blessing would it be for Dr ----, and Professor ----, if they
might be allowed to mystify their readers in Greek! though, to do them
justice, they have turned the Queen's English to good account for that
purpose, and have produced passages which first-class men, at an
Athenian university, might possibly construe, but which the whole board
of sophists might be defied to explain.)

The _deus ex machina_--the gentleman on, or rather off the tramp--who
arrived thus opportunely, was no less a person than the Reverend George
Plympton, Fellow of Oriel, &c. &c. &c. He was an intimate friend of our
worthy tutor's; if the friendship between Oxford dons can be called
intimacy. They compared the merits of their respective college cooks
three or four times a term, and contended for the superior vintage of
the common-room port. They played whist together; walked arm-in-arm
round Christ Church meadow; and knew the names of all the old incumbents
in each other's college-list, and the value of the respective livings.
Mr Plympton and a friend had been making a walking tour of North Wales;
that is, they walked about five miles, stared at a mountain, or a fall,
or an old castle, as per guide-book, and then coached it to the next
point, when the said book set down that "the Black Dog was an excellent
inn," or that "travellers would find every accommodation at Mrs
Price's of the Wynnstay Arms." Knowing that Hanmer was to be found at
Glyndewi, Mr Plympton left his friend at B----, where the salmon was
unexceptionable, and had completed the most arduous day's walk in his
journal, nearly thirteen miles, in a state of dust and heat far from
agreeable to a stoutish gentleman of forty, who usually looked as spruce
as if he came out of a band-box. Hanmer and he seemed really glad to see
each other. On those "oxless" shores, where, as Byron says, "beef was
rare," though

"Goat's flesh there was, no doubt, and kid, and mutton,"

the tender reminiscences of far-off Gaude days and Bursary dinners,
that must have arisen in the hearts of each, were enough to make their
meeting almost an affecting one. Hanmer must have blushed, I think,
though far from his wont, when he asked Mr Plympton if he could feed
with us at four upon--hashed mutton! (We consumed nearly a sheep per
week, and exhausted our stock of culinary ideas, as well as our
landlady's patience, in trying to vary the forms in which it was to
app