e; and it is the best way to do
it."

"These are the points, Mr. Butler," he continued, giving him a
printed paper, "on which you will have to satisfy the Civil Service
Commissioners; they are, as you see, not very numerous nor very
difficult. A certificate as to general conduct and character--British
subject--some knowledge of foreign languages--the first four rules of
arithmetic--and that you are able to ride--"

"Thank Heaven, there is one thing I can do; and if you ask the
Commissioners to take a cast 'cross country, I 'll promise them a
breather."

Tony never noticed--nor, had he noticed, had he cared for--the grave
austerity of the heads of departments at this outburst of enthusiasm.
He was too full of his own happiness, and too eager to share it with his
mother.

As he gained the street, Skeffington passed his arm through his, and
walked along with him, offering him his cordial gratulations, and giving
him many wise and prudent counsels, though unfortunately, from the state
of ignorance of Tony's mind, these latter were lamentably unprofitable.
It was of "the Office" that he warned him,--of its tempers, its
caprices, its rancors, and its jealousies, till, lost in the maze of
his confusion, poor Tony began to regard it as a beast of ill-omened and
savage passions,--a great monster, in fact, who lived on the bones and
flesh of ardent and high-hearted youths, drying up the springs of their
existence, and exhausting their brains out of mere malevolence. Out
of all the farrago that he listened to, all that he could collect was,
"that he was one of those fellows that the chiefs always hated and
invariably crushed." Why destiny should have marked him out for such
odium--why he was born to be strangled by red tape, Tony could not
guess, nor, to say truth, did he trouble himself to inquire; but,
resisting a pressing invitation to dine with Skeffington at his club, he
hastened to his room to write his good news to his mother.

"Think of my good fortune, dearest little mother," he wrote. "I have got
a place, and such a place! You 'd fancy it was made for me, for I
have neither to talk nor to think nor to read nor to write,--all my
requirements are joints that will bear bumping, and a head that
will stand the racket of railroad and steamboat without any sense
of confusion, beyond what nature implanted there. Was he not a wise
Minister who named me to a post where bones are better than brains,
and a good digestion supe