I had my interview with the respected principal.
He gave me of mutton nearest the bone, which, they say, is sweetest; and on sweet things you should not regale in excess.

Endymion watched the sheep that bred that mutton! He gave me the thin beer of our boyhood, that I might the more soberly state my mission.

That beer, my friend, was brewed by one who wished to form a study for pantomimic masks.

He listened with the gravity which is all his own to the recital of my career; he pleasantly compared me to Phaethon, congratulated the river Thames at my not setting it on fire in my rapid descent, and extended to me the three fingers of affectionate farewell.

"You an usher, a rearer of youth, Mr.Raikes?
Oh, no! Oh, no!" That was all I could get out of him.