Speaking of the blind Postmaster-General, Sir Robert said that he gave the Post Office an enormous lift; he tried to make it an important social instrument for the amelioration of the State. His personality was most inspiriting. He would come to the post office on Monday morning with a crumpled little piece of paper, which he would hand to any one standing near to read to him. It contained perhaps half a dozen words; for example: ‘Foreign delivery, parcels, stamp, alterations.’ This slight help to his memory was sufficient to remind him perhaps of all the day’s work, including investigations and even what he was prepared to say before the House of Commons in the afternoon. He took great pains with his answers for question time, discussing, writing, and re-writing them. But once they were settled and read over to him in their final form, they were delivered by him in the House verbatim without any effort. If some proposal came before him in the guise of a file of papers, he always endeavoured to ascertain what official had given most consideration to the question, and he then discussed the matter with him personally. This was an innovation. The discussion would suggest ideas which would often lead to improvements in the administration. His enthusiasm made every one feel the need of working harder and doing better than under a less inspiring leader. He gained the affection of all by his astonishing consideration, and by not giving unnecessary trouble.’ Though now a mature and distinguished man, he had not changed from his buoyant earlier self, and with each return to Cambridge took up his lectures and his social life with a new glow and fresh zeal. He appreciated more than ever, if possible, the value of work and fun in life, and in return, for his industry and gaiety, life yielded him full measure of joy and contentment. [Sidenote: Interested Cows.] A Trinity Hall contemporary tells of going to stay with a friend in the country, and on his arrival finding no one at home; but being told by the butler that Mr. Fawcett had arrived and was fishing in the neighbourhood, the new guest went in search. After a short walk in the meadows he was surprised to see in the neighbourhood of a brook a large group of cows standing in contemplation about some central object which he could not make out. A nearer view revealed Fawcett seated in the charmed circle, the cynosure of all the bovine eyes! In his hand he held a fishing-rod, the line being firmly caught above his head to the branch of a tree. The anxious and puzzled observer asked what was the matter, to which Fawcett answered unconcernedly: ‘Oh, I’m all right, thanks; I’m very glad to see you!’ On further inquiry about his hypnotised audience of cows, he explained, ‘Oh, it was the boy’s lunch-time, so I sent him off to get it. My fish-hook got caught in the tree and these cows just happened to come round.’ As always, he was having an idyllic time, and was amused by his friend’s perplexity.