"She says nid wn i ddim,' and that is, 'I don't know.'

I think Angharad may pass for her frankness, combined with good looks.

The Squire arrives with the school accounts; and brings Mrs. Trevor, who announces that she is particularly interested in the sewing, and wants to have my opinion as an expert. Horror! Meanwhile Standards III., IV., and V. are struggling with sums, and, at intervals, with Dictation, given out by the Master in a convincing accent. Then they read with a fluency that in those early days used to amaze me, knowing, as I did, that they knew very little English; till I found by greater experience that they knew the two books by heart, and could go on equally well if the book fell on the ground.

All the work is done-Geography, Grammar, History, Needlework-done before the Inspector's eyes-all these must wait till October, 1876:1 the children go home with undisguised joy, and I proceed to mark the papers. Evans has passed 92 per cent.; great rejoicings follow, and I am classed above the last inspector, who drew the line at 88. I fear the Consolidated Fund loses by my inexperience, but I hold my tongue.

Mrs. Trevor insists that I shall report on the sewing. There is a table covered with female garments in unbleached calico (which smells like hot glue), linen, and flannel; and I am expected to look as if I knew one stitch from another. By great good luck I drive away both Mrs. Squire and Mrs. Evans by picking up, in my ignorance, a garment so shocking to the modest eye that my critics turn hastily away, and are speechless. I hold

1 These and other subjects were introduced for general use by the Code of 1876.

it up to the light; comment on the backstitching (which I now have reason to believe was hemming); pull at the seams; and find that my lay assessors have fled. Rather abashed I also go, and find the Druid at the door. He has had a wedding, and he has left the loud bassoon and its moaning that he may explain to me about those hamlets with the cacophonous names.

"Good-bye, Mr. Evans: 92 per cent. is excellent. Good-bye, Mrs. Evans love to Gwen. Ffarwel, Myfanwy."

you

"Beg pardon, sir," interposes Evans, nervously; "but you haven't signed the Log Book, or seen the Accounts; and have left Form IX. and the Schedule behind, and here they are." This dims the glory of my departure, and I return to sign the Log Book, a custom of those days. The Squire comes with me, and as I open the cash-book, and wonder which is Income and which Expenditure, he remarks quite casually to the master : By-the-bye, Mr. Evans, I have arranged with the architect and the builder to carry out the improvements in the premises recommended by H.M. Inspector last year, if this gentleman approves.'

I, of course, intimate that I should not presume to have an opinion contrary to my chief's: and the Squire con

tinues :

"The windows will be enlarged; the diamond panes will be taken out; the floor will be boarded; and I have ordered some new desks. If we can manage to get three weeks' holiday without frost at Christmas, we can do all the work then."

Evans was radiant with joy, and we started for the street. Just by the gate I again hear a soft murmur from

F

infant lips; this time as a soliloquy: "welwch-'i-farf o." It is Gwen. Ffarwel, Gwen bach.

"Now, Mr. Inspector," says the "from here you can see my parish.

pertinacious Druid,

On the hill-side is

Llanfair-castanwydd-uwch-y-mynydd-uchaf. . . ."

Look here, Mr. Morgan," the Squire says hurriedly, come up to the Hall with the Inspector; the Rector is coming, and we will settle Moriah after lunch.

him a rest now. Hang Moriah."

Give

"But it isn't all Moriah," the Druid was beginning. The Rector saw his chance :

"Ye-es, sure," said the Druid vaguely and so it was settled.

CHAPTER VII

WINDING UP

"If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly."-Macbeth.

WHEN you are paid by the day it is very unwise to work quickly. I was very young in the public service in 1871, and that immortal, if immoral, truth had not come home to me. Therefore I had worked almost continuously for eight months, and at a speed that, if the Civil Service had possessed a well organized trade union, would have ensured a heavy penalty for "spoiling the place."

About the second week in December, just at the time when all men were watching with bated breath the drawing near of the dark shadow at Sandringham, my task was done. I was grieved to leave the lovely country; the host of friends, an exceeding great army that had sprung up from the dry bones of Returns ; and especially my chief and his family. He must have found me an all but intolerable nuisance, for I was very green, and very unofficial in disposition: but he had never reproached me, or hindered my steps. I was a little sorry, too, to leave the work in so crude a state. The plans were finished, but the execution was hardly begun. There is

a fine line, which one is surprised to trace to the Rejected Addresses, because it ought to be in Shakespeare :

"And deems nought done, while ught remains to do."

And that was my lamentable case.

Let me add, too, that I was grieved to lose my pay. There were no such almug trees in the Inner Temple.

But I sent in my last batch of Reports, and my resignation. In those times of official inexperience I supposed that I should receive a polite reply, regretting, &c., and trusting, &c., and especially commenting on the fact that I had finished my work so soon. When Clive was "amazed at his own moderation," it was, doubtless, a shock to him to find that no one shared his amazement. The only reply that I received was a formal acknowledgment of the receipt of my communication. It was not their Lordships' way to be effusive. More than 30

years later, one of my staff, who was resigning after 35 years' service, told me that he had not received even a postcard, unstamped, On His Majesty's Service, to thank him, and bid him farewell. It is recorded of

Lord Chancellor Thurlow that one summer afternoon on the last day of term before the Long Vacation the Bar rose from their seats, and bowed with expectancy when the Chancellor had risen. It was usual that his Lordship should say something: but he was mute; and a leader remarked, in an audible aside, "He might have d-d us, anyhow."

Being unemployed I returned to the Bar. My practice had not suffered by my absence: no solicitors had felt any inconvenience; and my briefless brethren showed no displeasure at my return to compete with them. One remarked that he thought he hadn't seen me about lately;