like a bull, roar like a lion, howl like a jackal, laugh like a hyena. If you drive me to it, I shall copy all the shriller domestic animals. . . . The matter is now in your hands."
Monday, 7 February.
Peace reigns at Ventnor. . . .
Wednesday, 16 February.
. . . I start my sock-and-tie stunt, which consists in "copycatting" daily, Austin Read seconding, an absurd young man of half my age. Thus do the elderly amuse themselves for the further amusement of a limited circle. . . .
Tuesday, 22 February.
Stephen's letter of 20. 1. 21 to his mother arrives. [I again varied my itinerary and had decided to make my way to Valparaiso through the Straits of Magellan rather than across the Andes.] So he is travelling in the wake of H. M. S. Beagle and the late Charles Robert Darwin! He'll be perished with cold; but he's more likely to get a fish or two to eat. . . .
Sunday, 27 February.
Stephen's birthday. His health shall be drunk in brimming barley-water; and, though I believe
