One day last April it was my good fortune to spend a few hours on the famous hill of Hissarlik. Being only a dabbler in archaeology, I felt little dismay that my time there was so short; even a brief visit would be sufficient to get a vivid impression of the setting and geographical background of the Iliad. It is doubtless a pleasant fancy to imagine the Trojans hauling the wooden horse, some with foreboding, others with exultant shouts, up the steep ramp which the archaeologists have laid bare; and to be told by an expert that a bit of broken pot that one has casually picked up dates from the time when the Greeks are alleged to have sacked Troy should send a thrill through the heart of any one who boasts a classical education.