ving me help when I was in
them, read a little of it, and said that it was ever so much longer
than the one he had written. As length meant work, I was very
satisfied with this remark of his, and I went off to Mr. Edwardes with
a feeling that he might be mildly pleased.

He greeted me coldly and sat down by the side of the table, with his
back almost turned to me; we did not even exchange our opinions about
the weather, and he was evidently as anxious for me to begin as I was
to finish. My opening sentence was stamped by my own style. If I say
that no one else would have written it, I only wish to record that no
one else would have thought it worth while; I will not quote it,
because when I tried to read this essay a year after I had written it,
I was struck by the fact that it was altogether too florid for
every-day use. Mr. Edwardes objected strongly to phrases which seemed
to me beautifully rounded, and I gave them up slowly as one of my most
cherished possessions. I could not share his feelings about them at
that time, whatever I may think of them now, and they formed a part of
a scheme to make my essays less dull, and what I was fain to think even
a little amusing. But apart from my opening sentence I had in this
essay deprived myself of the pleasure of ornate phrasing and been as
solid as possible. I had, however, taken great pains over my first
words. I wished them to convey to Mr. Edwardes that I could still
annoy him if I liked, and afterwards I intended to show him that though
this power remained to me I was too kind to use it. These were not
perhaps the reasons why I was compelled to write essays, and I doubt
whether he would ever have discovered my scheme even if I had read him
what I had written. And I never did read it, for after I had finished
the first sentence and deprived it of much of its effect by getting the
stops mixed up, which made me want to read it over again, he turned
round in his chair so quickly that he bumped his arm against the table,
and if he had not been a don I should have asked him if he had hurt
himself. But as my efforts to please dons by inquiring after their
health had not been successful, I went on reading until Mr. Edwardes
stood up, and feeling then that something had gone hopelessly wrong, I
stopped to look at him.

I could see that he was exceedingly angry, but why in the world he had
become so suddenly afflicted I had not an idea.

"I do not require to hear an