i AT DAWN OF DAY 5 



of an uncut ham, a loaf of sweet white 

 bread, a butter-dish, a teapot, cup and 

 saucer, and other aids to breakfast. The 

 man turns towards the fender, where stands 

 a kettle on a small oil-stove. He lights 

 the stove, and at this moment the clock on 

 the mantelpiece strikes three. It still lacks 

 nearly two hours to sunrise, and by the chinks 

 of the shutters we can see that it is yet dark. 

 While the kettle is boiling let us glance 

 round the room. It is not so large as we 

 supposed, but it is very charming. The 

 low ceiling displays two oak beams and a 

 third which crosses them. The walls are 

 panelled with dark oak, and on them hang 

 a few pictures, mostly of sporting subjects ; 

 but not all, for over the broad fireplace 

 hangs the Sistine Madonna, gazing as if 

 with mild disapproval at the preparations 

 for breakfast. There are many bookcases, 

 too, with that friendly appearance which 

 the soul loveth ; but we may not linger 

 among them, for the kettle has boiled and 

 the man is already at his meal. Leaning 

 against the loaf is a book, and he smiles 

 as he reads, as if he loved it. Let us glance 

 over his shoulder to see what it is that 



