Business hours, in the Finsbury leather trade, had been cut to the

quick; even Morris's strong sense of duty to himself was not strong

enough to dally within those walls and under the shadow of that

bankruptcy; and presently the manager and the clerks would draw a long

breath, and compose themselves for another day of procrastination. Raw

Haste, on the authority of my Lord Tennyson, is half-sister to Delay;

but the Business Habits are certainly her uncles. Meanwhile, the leather

merchant would lead his living investment back to John Street like a

puppy dog; and, having there immured him in the hall, would depart for

the day on the quest of seal rings, the only passion of his life. Joseph

had more than the vanity of man, he had that of lecturers. He owned he

was in fault, although more sinned against (by the capable Scot) than

sinning; but had he steeped his hands in gore, he would still not

deserve to be thus dragged at the chariot-wheels of a young man, to sit

a captive in the halls of his own leather business, to be entertained

with mortifying comments on his whole career--to have his costume

examined, his collar pulled up, the presence of his mittens verified,

and to be taken out and brought home in custody, like an infant with

a nurse. At the thought of it his soul would swell with venom, and he

would make haste to hang up his hat and coat and the detested mittens,

and slink upstairs to Julia and his notebooks. The drawing-room at least

was sacred from Morris; it belonged to the old man and the young girl;

it was there that she made her dresses; it was there that he inked

his spectacles over the registration of disconnected facts and the

calculation of insignificant statistics.

The Wrong Box