“Mens sana in corpore sano, Bessie,” he said; “a sound mind in a sound body, you know.  That’s tremendously important, especially when a fellow spends the day in a stuffy office.  Yes, I think I shall give it half Wednesdays, from eight-thirty to nine-thirty; sends you home in a glow.  But I was going to tell you about the Literature Class.  The second lecture’s to-night.  The first was splendid, all about the languages of Europe and Asia—­what they call the Indo-Germanic languages, you know.  Aryans.  I can’t tell you exactly without my notes, but the Hindoos and Persians, I think it was, they crossed the Himalaya Mountains and spread westward somehow, as far as Europe.  That was the way it all began.  It was splendid, the way the lecturer put it.  English is a Germanic language, you know.  Then came the Celts.  I wish I’d brought my notes.  I see you’ve been reading; let’s look—­”

A book lay on her knees, its back warped by the heat of the fire.  He took it and opened it.

“Ah, Keats!  Glad you like Keats, Bessie.  We needn’t be great readers, but it’s important that what we do read should be all right.  I don’t know him, not really know him, that is.  But he’s quite all right—­A1 in fact.  And he’s an example of what I’ve always maintained, that knowledge should be brought within the reach of all.  It just shows.  He was the son of a livery-stable keeper, you know, so what he’d have been if he’d really had chances, been to universities and so on, there’s no knowing.  But, of course, it’s more from the historical standpoint that I’m studying these things.  Let’s have a look—­”

He opened the book where a hairpin between the leaves marked a place.  The firelight glowed on the page, and he read, monotonously and inelastically: 

“And as I sat, over the light blue hills
There came a noise of revellers; the rills
Into the wide stream came of purple hue—­
  ’Twas Bacchus and his crew! 
The earnest trumpet spake, and silver thrills
From kissing cymbals made a merry din—­
  ’Twas Bacchus and his kin! 
Like to a moving vintage down they came,
Crowned with green leaves, and faces all on flame
All madly dancing through the pleasant valley
  To scare thee, Melancholy!"

It was the wondrous passage from Endymion, of the descent of the wild inspired rabble into India.  Ed plucked for a moment at his lower lip, and then, with a “Hm!  What’s it all about, Bessie?” continued: 

"Within his car, aloft, young Bacchus stood,
Trifling his ivy-dart, in dancing mood,
  With sidelong laughing;
And little rills of crimson wine imbrued
His plump white arms and shoulders, enough white
  For Venus’ pearly bite;
And near him rode Silenus on his ass,
Pelted with flowers as he on did pass,
  Tipsily quaffing."