my own half-faded impressions, as well as in the hope of
amusing and interesting you. So I must just give you one or two other
points which may make his character more clear to you.

He had a dash of the heroic in him. On one occasion he was placed in
such a position that he must choose between compromising a lady, or
springing out of a third-floor window. Without a moment's hesitation he
hurled himself out of the window. As luck would have it, he fell through
a large laurel bush on to a garden plot, which was soft with rain, and
so escaped with a shaking and a bruising. If I have to say anything that
gives a bad impression of the man, put that upon the other side.

He was fond of rough horse-play; but it was better to avoid it with him,
for you could never tell what it might lead to. His temper was nothing
less than infernal. I have seen him in the dissecting-rooms begin to
skylark with a fellow, and then in an instant the fun would go out of
his face, his little eyes would gleam with fury, and the two would be
rolling, worrying each other like dogs, below the table. He would
be dragged off, panting and speechless with fury, with his wiry hair
bristling straight up like a fighting terrier's.

This pugnacious side of his character would be worthily used sometimes.
I remember that an address which was being given to us by an eminent
London specialist was much interrupted by a man in the front row, who
amused himself by interjecting remarks. The lecturer appealed to his
audience at last. "These interruptions are insufferable, gentlemen,"
said he; "will no one free me from this annoyance?" "Hold your
tongue--you, sir, on the front bench," cried Cullingworth, in his
bull's bellow. "Perhaps you'll make me," said the fellow, turning a
contemptuous face over his shoulder. Cullingworth closed his note-book,
and began to walk down on the tops of the desks to the delight of the
three hundred spectators. It was fine to see the deliberate way in which
he picked his way among the ink bottles. As he sprang down from the last
bench on to the floor, his opponent struck him a smashing blow full in
the face. Cullingworth got his bulldog grip on him, however, and rushed
him backwards out of the class-room. What he did with him I don't know,
but there was a noise like the delivery of a ton of coals; and the
champion of law and order returned, with the sedate air of a man who had
done his work. One of his eyes looked like an over-ripe dams