Another moment and there is a gleam in the publisher's sinister eye; he snatches up the paper containing the names of the worthies which I have intended shall figure in the forthcoming volumes--he glances rapidly over it, and his countenance once more assumes a terrific expression.

'How is this ?' he exclaims; 'I can scarcely believe my eyes--the most important life and trial omitted to be found in the whole criminal record--what gross, what utter negligence! Where's the life of Farmer Patch?
where's the trial of Yeoman Patch ?' 'What a life! what a dog's life!' I would frequently exclaim, after escaping from the presence of the publisher.[59] Then came the final catastrophe.

Borrow could not translate Phillips's great masterpiece, _Twelve Essays on the Proximate Causes_, into German with any real effectiveness although the testimonial of the enthusiastic Taylor had led Phillips to assume that he could.

Borrow, as we shall see, knew many languages, and knew them well colloquially, but he was not a grammarian, and he could not write accurately in any one of his numerous tongues.

His wonderful memory gave him the words, but not always any thoroughness of construction.