HOLKER, January 28th, 1865.
—Ice the order of the day again. I advanced to the stage of clumsy, spasmodic self-propelling, diversified by tumbles, and supported by a stick. F. had to foot-hunt, to my grief. He has a horrid cold. He saw the last 5 minutes of my exploits. Lou and I have begun Ld. Derby's new translation of the Iliad, in blank verse ; it is very nervous, easy, and dignified. Little boys tumbled about with and without skates, and swore friendship with Compton. A young man of three-and-twenty has just died of drink, his grandfather and all his paternal uncles having done the same. It is frightfully common about here.
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