_Dr. T._ _Fulfilled_, JOSEPH; whether amply or not it remains for you
to prove.

_Master Joe_ (_carelessly_). All right, Sir, _I_'ll prove it fast
enough.

_Dr. T._ I trust so, JOSEPH, I trust so, though "fast enough"
is _hardly_ the phrase _I_ should have adopted,
or--ahem!--recommended,--in the circumstances!

"Is there a word wants nobleness and grace,
Devoid of weight, nor worthy of high place?"

You know what our excellent HORACE bids you do in such a case.

_Master Joe_ (_aside_). Bothersome old _Blimber_!

_Mrs. S._ Yes, JOSEPH, slanginess, carelessness and extravagance of
speech will not befit your present position, you know.

_Master Joe_. (_aside_). Prosy old _Pipchin_!

_Dr. T._ You could not, JOSEPH, put before you a better model than the
boy whose post you assume, in consequence of his going to the
Upper School; young HARTY, I mean, a boy who was ever a pattern of
propriety, and one absolutely to be depended upon to maintain the
prestige of the school, and--ahem!--the authority of the Masters, in
every contingency.

_Mrs. S._ In _every_ contingency, JOSEPH. How unlike that talented,