nd
destroy the yard."

"It's no good arguing with an old vinedresser, who had formed his theory
before I was born," said Agellius good-humouredly; and he passed on into a
garden beyond.

Here were other indications of the happy month through which the year was
now travelling. The garden, so to call it, was a space of several acres in
extent; it was one large bed of roses, and preparation was making for
extracting their essence, for which various parts of that country are to
this day celebrated. Here was another set of labourers, and a man of
middle age was surveying them at his leisure. His business-like, severe,
and off-hand manner bespoke the _villicus_ or bailiff himself.

"Always here," said he, "as if you were a slave, not a Roman, my good
fellow; yet slaves have their Saturnalia; always serving, not worshipping
the all-bounteous and all-blessed. Why are you not taking holiday in the
town?"

"Why should I, sir?" asked Agellius; "don't you recollect old Hiempsal's
saying about 'one foot in the slipper, and one in the shoe.' Nothing would
be done well if I were a town-goer. You engaged me, I suppose, to be here,
not there."

"Ah!" answered he, "but at this season the empire, the genius of Rome, the
customs of the country, demand it, and above all the great goddess Astarte
and her genial, jocund month. 'Parturit almus ager;' you know the verse;
do not be out of tune with Nature, nor clash and jar with the great system
of the universe."

A cloud of confusion, or of distress, passed over Agellius's face. He
seemed as if he wished to speak; at length he merely said, "It's a fault
on the right side in a servant, I suppose."

"I know the way of your people," Vitricus replied, "Corybantians,
Phrygians, Jews, what do you call yourselves? There are so many fantastic
religions now-a-days. Hang yourself outright at your house-door, if you
are tired of living--and you are a sensible fellow. How can any man, whose
head sits right upon his shoulders, say that life is worth having, and not
worth enjoying?"

"I am a quiet being," answered Agellius, "I like the country, which you
think so tame, and care little for the flaunting town. Tastes differ."

"Town! you need not go to Sicca," answered the bailiff, "all Sicca is out
of town. It has poured into the fields, and groves, and river side. Lift
up your eyes, man alive, open your ears, and let pleasure flow in. Be
passive under the sweet breath of the goddess, and she will