_every_ body ought to have a defined occupation, I should like to put what mine is, but I don't know how to define it." "Oh," replied Dr. Sutherland, "say, Occupation, None." The last column inquired whether the householder was "Deaf-and-dumb, blind, imbecile, or lunatic?" "I shall return," said she, "Imbecile and Blind, and if everybody did the same now, it would be true." "Don't," replied he; "you are the exception." But for the most part her references to him were on matters which either called for some quick application of worldly wisdom or involved considerable drudgery. His shrewd good sense never failed; and the drudgery, though it may have been delayed, was always done in the end. She is asked to express an opinion on some Indian Health Reports, and is tired. Off they go to Dr. Sutherland, who replies: "I have been through them all; you may safely say they are very well done." Or, pamphlets, memorials, prospectuses, are sent to her, and she is in no mood to master them. They are consigned to him; and in course of time neat little digests are returned, and she is advised what to do or say. Every important letter is similarly sent to him with a note saying, "What am I to answer?" or "What does all this come to?" or "Please advise." "You _must_ come to-morrow to see my letter before it goes." "I want to ask you some questions, and you must be good." In years when Miss Nightingale was much in the country (as in 1870 and 1871), Dr. Sutherland's daily work for her was the heavier, because all communications were through the post. There was fret and jar between them in personal intercourse, as we have heard, and opportunity for misunderstanding was increased when two busy people were exchanging ideas by letter. This was especially the case when any work was on hand of which the scope had not been precisely defined, and Miss Nightingale was often impatient. "I could do work," she wrote on one occasion, "if it were real work, done at the least expenditure to myself. But to do a minimum of work at the greatest expenditure to myself (by driving, pumping, etc.) is now physically impossible to me." Such complaints and such references to her weakness were frequent. To the latter Dr. Sutherland always referred in terms of sympathy--"I know you are very ill," "I beg you to let me help as much as I can," and so forth. With regard to the complaints, he sometimes laughed them aside: "Thanks for your parting kick, which is always pleasant to receive by them as likes it." "You are a true Paddy, you like to trail your coat, but I won't tread on it." Sometimes he defended himself--"If you knew what I have had to do, I am quite sure you would not have written about the proof as you have done"; and sometimes he refrained from defence other than simple denial--"I scarcely know how otherwise to reply to your attack than simply to state that it is groundless. Am I such a fool, I ask myself, as to do what she says I have done?" But this admirable man