not for him to--

Sport with Amaryllis in the shade.

It behoves him that his life should be grave and his pursuits
laborious, if he intends to live up to the tone of those around
him. And as, sitting there at his early desk, his eyes already
dim with figures, he sees a jaunty dandy saunter round the
opposite corner to the Council Office at eleven o'clock, he
cannot but yearn after the pleasures of idleness.

Were it not better done, as others use?

he says or sighs. But then comes Phoebus in the guise of the
chief clerk, and touches his trembling ears--

As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
Of so much fame, in Downing Street--expect the meed.

And so the high tone of the office is maintained.

Such is the character of the Weights and Measures at this present
period of which we are now treating. The exoteric crowd of the
Civil Service, that is, the great body of clerks attached to
other offices, regard their brethren of the Weights as prigs and
pedants, and look on them much as a master's favourite is apt to
be regarded by other boys at school. But this judgement is an
unfair one. Prigs and pedants, and hypocrites too, there are
among them, no doubt--but there are also among them many stirred
by an honourable ambition to do well for their country and