The Squire’s wife at Exhurst is not pleased with the manners of the girls, since _that_ Miss A. took charge of the school. The other day Her Excellency met Mary Hodge in the lane, and did not meet with due reverence. She went on to Mrs. Hodge’s cottage, and made complaint: “I met Mary in the lane just now, and she didn’t curtsey to me, and I _do_ think, &c., &c.” “Well, ma’am,” said Mrs. Hodge, deprecatingly, “you see curtseying’s gone hout now; but if you’d ’a _sloped_ to our Mary, I’m sure she’d a’ sloped to you.” Dear girls! I have no stories to tell of them; but though they did not lend themselves to humorous treatment, they were very delightful; and there was not one among the whole 50,000 who would have changed me for Tabitha Brown, or Priscilla Jones, or Minerva Robinson. FOOTNOTES: [24] Dickens: _Little Dorrit_. [25] And so Macduff: “He has no children.” --_Macbeth_, Act IV. sc. iv. CHAPTER XVIII INSPECTORS “Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” Daniel xii. 4. Not so much Inspectors, as H.M. Inspectors: that distinction was always present to the mind of a self-respecting H.M.I. The indoor staff fell back on the imaginary peerage, which they called “My Lords”: the outdoor staff went straight to the fountain of honour. And when on some sudden emergency I called at the house of an exceedingly deaf Rector (who had forgotten my face) and shouted through a trumpet that I was The Inspector, I was a little hurt to be asked “What of?” I fear he ranked me with my esteemed colleague in the other nuisances branch. There were strange rumours thirty years ago of the all but regal position assumed by the pioneers of inspection. And no doubt they received much encouragement in country districts. In one corner of Bœotia I found a surprising instance of this homage. I had spent the night at “The Lion” at Littletown; the accommodation was humble, but sufficient; the bill presented in the morning was aspiring, and more than sufficient. I suggested some abatement and got it. Two or three years afterwards my successor proposed to sleep at “The Lion,” but prudently enquired beforehand whether they were likely to make him comfortable. The landlord assured him there was no cause for alarm; he had been patronised by Royalty. On further enquiry it appeared that the Royalty was Me. _L’état, c’était moi._ Thanks to large envelopes, “On Her Majesty’s Service,” addressed to H.M. Inspector, and unsoiled with the common postage stamp, I had been raised to Royal rank, and the reputation of the hotel and its charges had risen accordingly. I fear those loyal spirits are more cautious now.