incompetent rose before me; but soon, to my great relief, it was
discovered that the Way Bills were too much for me and that I must begin
at more elementary duties.

A few weeks afterwards, when I had found my feet a little, I was promoted
from the simple tasks assigned to me in consequence of my first failure
and attached to the goods-train-delays clerk, a long-bearded elderly man
with a very kind face. He was quite fatherly to me and took a great deal
of trouble in teaching me my work. With him I soon felt at ease, and was
happy in gaining his approbation. One thing found favour in his eyes; I
wrote a good clear hand and at fair speed. In those days penmanship was
a fine art. No cramped or sprawling writing passed muster. Typewriting
was not dreamed of, and, at Derby, shorthand had not appeared on the
scene.

One or two other juniors and myself sedulously practised imitating the
penmanship of those senior clerks who wrote fine or singular hands. At
this I was particularly successful and proud of my skill, until one day
the chief clerk detained me after closing time, gave me a good rating,
and warned me to stop such a dangerous habit which might lead, he said,
to the disgrace of forgery. He spoke so seriously and shook his head so
wisely that (to use Theodore Hook's old joke) "I thought there must be
something in it," and so, for a long while, I gave up the practice.

Office hours in those days were nominally from nine till six, but for the
juniors especially often much longer. In 1868 or 1869, 1 do not remember
which, a welcome change took place; the hours were reduced to from nine
till five, and arrangements made for avoiding late hours for the juniors.
This early closing was the result of an "appeal unto Caesar." The
clerical staff in all the offices had combined and presented a petition