So strict was his style, though he was not above a joke, that only his own hands might serve forth an ounce of best butter to the public.

And whenever this was weighed, and the beam adjusted handsomely to the satisfaction of the purchaser, down went the butter to be packed upon a shelf uninvaded by the public eye.

Persons too scantily endowed with the greatest of all Christian virtues had the hardihood to say that Mr.Cheeseman here indulged in a process of high art discovered by himself.

Discoursing of the weather, or the crops, or perhaps the war, and mourning the dishonesty of statesmen nowadays, by dexterous undersweep of keen steel blade, from the bottom of the round, or pat, or roll, he would have away a thin slice, and with that motion jerk it into the barrel which he kept beneath his desk.
"Is this, then, the establishment of the illustrious Mr.Cheeseman ?" The time was yet early, and the gentleman who put this question was in riding dress.

The worthy tradesman looked at him, and the rosy hue upon his cheeks was marbled with a paler tint.
"This is the shop of the 'umble James Cheeseman," he answered, but not with the alacrity of business.