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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
16
To
hide
the
absence
of
the
tie
I
had
to
keep
my
chin
down
the
rest
of
the
evening,
which
caused
a
pain
at
the
back
of
my
neck.
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
his
having
paid
for
a
private
box
because
our
order
was
not
honoured,
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
p’s
there
were
in
appreciate,
and
she
said,
“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
Bézique.”
APRIL
25.—
In
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
of
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’ve
always
got
some
newfangled
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
as
they
was
before.”
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