American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
We felt this covertly at the time, without formulating it, and were
conscious, as an ordered and prosperous community, of his even-handed
justice, all untainted with flunkeyism. He had none of that
vulgarity--his touch was infinitely fine. The delicacy of it was clear
to me on the first occasion my eyes rested, as they were so often to
rest again, on the domestic revealed, in the turbid light of the street,
by the opening of the house-door. I saw on the spot that though he had
plenty of school he carried it without arrogance--he had remained
articulate and human. L'Ecole Anglaise Mr. Offord used laughingly to
call him when, later on, it happened more than once that we had some
conversation about him. But I remember accusing Mr. Offord of not doing
him quite ideal justice. That he wasn't one of the giants of the school,
however, was admitted by my old friend, who really understood him
perfectly and was devoted to him, as I shall show; which doubtless poor
Brooksmith had himself felt, to his cost, when his value in the market
was originally determined. The utility of his class in general is
estimated by the foot and the inch, and poor Brooksmith had only about
five feet three to put into circulation. He acknowledged the inadequacy
of this provision, and I'm sure was penetrated with the everlasting
fitness of the relation between service and stature. If HE had been Mr.
Offord he certainly would have found Brooksmith wanting, and indeed the
laxity of his employer on this score was one of many things he had had
to condone and to which he had at last indulgently adapted himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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