rranged
our visits to the theatres and concert halls. I was the practical, he
the aesthetical controller of our joint menage. Once I remember--this
occurred before we left Derby--we both fancied ourselves in love with the
same dear enchantress, a certain dark-eyed brunette. Each punctually
paid his court, as opportunity offered, and each, when he could, most
obligingly furthered the suit of the other; and this went on till the
time arrived for Tom's departure to Glasgow, when I was left in
possession of the field. Then I discovered, to my surprise, that I was
not so deeply enamoured as I had imagined; and, curiously enough, Tom on
his part had no sooner settled in Scotland than he made a similar
discovery.

The climate of Glasgow never suited Tom's health and in 1876, on the
advice of his doctors, he decided to return to England. For a time he
seemed to regain his health, but only for a time. Soon he relapsed, and
before another year dawned it became evident, if not to himself, to his
friends, that his years on earth were numbered. With what grief I heard
the news, which came to me from his parents, I need not say. Bravely for
a while he struggled with work, but all in vain; he had to give in, and
return to his parents' home in Lincolnshire. That home he never again
left, except once, in the summer of 1877, to visit my wife and me, when
he stayed with us for several weeks. Though greatly reduced and very
thin, and capable only of short walks he was otherwise unchanged; the
lively fancy, the bright humor and the sparkling wit, which made him so
delightful a companion, were scarcely diminished. He himself was
hopeful; talked of recovery, planned excursions which he and I should
take together when his health returned; but his greatest pleasure was in
recalling our Derby days, our _Maypole_ visits, our country rambles, our
occasional dances and flirtations, and our auld acquaintances generally.

Tom was remarkable for the quickness of his observation, for keen
penetration of character, and for happy humorous description of
particular traits in those he met. He possessed, too, a wonderfully
retentive memory. It is largely due to his lively descriptions of our
interesting fellow clerks at Derby that I have been able, after the lapse
of half a century, to sketch them with the fidelity I have. His humorous
accounts of their peculiarities often enlivened the hours we spent
together, and impressed their personaliti