sweet home," rendered dearer by so many months of absence. The piece which lets us into the history of the stay-abroad is a lively picture of Roman gay life, and of a matter-of-fact gay lady, the chère amie of the poet's friend Varus, in whose company Catullus found it difficult to maintain a wise reserve as to the extent of his shifts and ill-luck in the Bithynian venture. She, like every one else, was agog to know how it had succeeded:—
And how much did you pocket, eh?"
The poet at first was pretty explicit:—
Nor yet the prætor, nor his suite,
Had in that province luck to meet
With anything that, do our best,
Could add one feather to our nest.
Our chances, too, were much decreased,
The prætor being such a beast,
And caring not one doit, not he,
For any of his company."
Thinking this admission enough, Catullus would fain have turned the subject before the lady discovered the utter barrenness of his return. But this was not her idea. Had he not brought home "a litter and bearers"? Every one knew they grew in Bithynia. The poor poet tried to make believe that he had; and her next move was to ask the loan of them to go to the shrine of Serapis. What was he to do, when he had not the ghost of even one brawny knave to carry his truckle-
