Stephen, scarlet with shame, opened a book quickly with one weak hand and bent down upon it, his face close to the page. The coming of September did not trouble him this year for he was not to be sent back to Clongowes. Next, what more national corruption, for which England hears ill abroad, than household gluttony: who shall be the rectors of our daily rioting? And what shall be done to inhibit the multitudes that frequent those houses where drunkenness is sold and harboured? Our garments also should be referred to the licensing of some more sober workmasters to see them cut into a less wanton garb. They had, as it were, an extent and mass for which I had not been prepared and in the presence of which I found myself, freshly, a little scared as well as a little proud.