in his bosom doing that “business” known as “searching for the flea.” The audience were im- patient for the fun of the pantomime to begin, and were getting noisy. At length, when Green gave vent to a still greater groan of agony, a voice shouted from the gallery, “Bring it up, old man! why don’t you get a basin?”
I continued to work of an evening at Leigh’s till within a year or so of his death, and enjoyed his friendship to the last. But a few days before he died we took our Academy work for his inspection. He had for some time been suffering from a pain- ful disease — smoker’s cancer in the lips or tongue. He bore it with great patience and fortitude. I can see him now — the lower part of his face en- veloped in a white silk handkerchief, the broad shoulders a little bent, the tread no longer firm and elastic, as he moved from one picture to another, nodding or shaking his head, which, with gestures of the hand, were all he could do in the way of criticism now. It was sad to see the vigorous energetic man who loved to talk, walking silently among the works of his pupils and to know his days were numbered. He was relieved of his pains and found rest on the 20th April i860, at the comparatively early age of fifty-two. A numerous band of his students followed him to his grave in Highgate Cemetery.
