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'MY BELOVED MASTER,-I am well. I slept a little more than usual

for my slight cold, which seems to be well again. So I spent the

time from the eleventh hour of the night to the third of the day

partly in reading in Cato's Agriculture, partly in writing, not

quite so badly as yesterday indeed. Then, after waiting upon my

father, I soothed my throat with honey-water, ejecting it without

swallowing: I might say gargle, but I won't, though I think the

word is found in Novius and elsewhere. After attending to my

throat I went to my father, and stood by his side as he

sacrificed. Then to luncheon. What do you think I had to eat? A

bit of bread so big, while I watched others gobbling boiled

beans, onions, and fish full of roe. Then we set to work at

gathering the grapes, with plenty of sweat and shouting, and, as

the quotation runs, "A few high-hanging clusters did we leave

survivors of the vintage." After the sixth hour we returned home.

I did a little work, and poor work at that.