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Diary of a Nobody.

April 24.—Could scarcely sleep a wink through thinking of having brought up Mr and Mrs James from the country to go to the theatre last night, and hia having paid for a private box because our order wus not honored; and such a poor play too. I wrote a very satirical letter to Merton, the wine merchant, who gave us the pass, and said " considering we had to pay for our seats, we did our best to appreciate the performance." I thought this line rather cutting, and I asked Carrie how many pa there were in appreciate, and she aaid " One." After I sent off the letter I looked at the dictionary and found there were two. Awfully vexed at this. Decided not to worry myself any more about the James's; for, as Carrie wisely said : " We'll make it all right with them by asking them up from Sutton one evening next week to play at bezique." April 25.—1n consequence of Brickwell telling me his wife was working wonders with the new Pinkford's Enamel Paint, I determined to try it. I bought two tins < f red on my way home. I hastened through tea, went into the garden, and painted some flower pots. I called out Carrie, who said: " You have always got some new-fangled craze " ; but she was obliged to admit that the flower pots looked remarkably well, Went upstairs into the servant's bedroom, and painted her washstand, towel horse, and chest of drawers. To my mind it was an extraordinary improvement; but, as an example of the ignorance of the lower classes in the matter of taste, our servant Sarah, on seeing them, evinced no sign of pleasure, but merely said "she thought they looked very well ag they was before." April 26.—Got some more red enamel paint (red to my mind being the best color), and painted the coal-scuttle and the backs of our ' Shakespeare,' the binding of which had almost worn out. April 27.—Painted the hath red, and was delighted with the result. Sorry to say Carrie was not; in fact we had a few words about it. She said I ought to have consulted her; and she had never heard of such a thing as a bath being painted red. I replied: "It's merely a matter of taste." Fortunately, further argument on the subject was stopped by a voice saying " May I come in?" It was only Cutnmings, who said: "Your maid opened the door, and asked me to excuse her showing me in, as she was wringing out some socks." I was delighted to see him, and suggested we should have a game of whist with a dummy, and by way of merriment said " You can be the dummy." Cutnmings (I thought rather illnaturedly) replied "Funny as usual." He said he couldn't stop; he only called to leave me the ' Bicycle as he had done with it. Another ring at the bell; it was Gowing, who said "he must apologise for 0 calling so often, and that one of these days we must come round to him." I said: " A very extraordinary thing has struck me." "Something funny, aTa usual," said Cum. mings. " Yes," I replied, " I think everi you will say so this time. It's apropos of you both; for doesn't it seem odd that Gowing's always coming and Cummings' always going!" Carrie, who had evidently quite forgotten about the bath, went into fits of laughter; and as for myself, I fairly doubled up in my chair till it cracked beneath me. I think this was one of the best jokes I have ever made. Then imagine my astonishment on perceiving both Cummings and Gowing perfectly silent, and without a smile on their faces. After rather an unpleasant pause, Cummings, who had opened a cigar-case, closed it up again, and said: " Yes; I think, after that, I shall be going, and I am sorry I fail to see the fun of your jokes." Gowing said he didn't mind a joke when it wasn't rude, but a pun on a name, to his « thinking, was certainly a little wanting in good taste. Cummings followed it up by saying, if it had been said by anyone else but myself, he shouldn't have entered the house again. This rather unpleasantly terminated what might have been a cheery evening. However, it was aswell they went, for the charwoman had finished up the T6mains of the cold pork.—' Pun«h.'

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD18881027.2.30.7

Bibliographic details

Evening Star, Issue 7754, 27 October 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Word Count
745

Diary of a Nobody. Evening Star, Issue 7754, 27 October 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Diary of a Nobody. Evening Star, Issue 7754, 27 October 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

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