He said very little either about his work or his employers, but from the dismal tone in which he drew comparisons between London and Liverpool, and between his present loneliness and days before their separation, it was evident enough he was homesick.

In a letter to Horace he said,-- "I get precious little time just now for anything but work, and what I do get I don't know a soul here to spend it with.

There's a football club here, but of course I can't join it.

I go walks occasionally, though I can't get far, as I cannot be away from here for long at a time, and never of an evening.

You might send me a _Rocket_ now and then, or something to read.