His tyranny was merciful.

I was soon expert in preparing his breakfast.

I used to fetch him hot dishes from the shop.
My own cooking was not good, and I made, so he said, the most execrable coffee, which led him to fling the contents of the pot at me one morning, ruining my shirt, trickling hot and wet down my body under my clothes, and giving me infinite trouble in cleaning his carpet.

(As to _his_ coffee, and the salad dressing he made, and his cooking generally, when he chose to do it, I have never met with anything like it since.

However, things taste well in one's school-days.) Leo Damer was one of those people who seem able to do everything just a little better than his neighbours, without attaining overwhelming superiority in any one line.