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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
19
APRIL
29,
Sunday.—
Woke
up
with
a
fearful
headache
and
strong
symptoms
of
a
cold.
Carrie,
with
a
perversity
which
is
just
like
her,
said
it
was
“painter’s
colic,”
and
was
the
result
of
my
having
spent
the
last
few
days
with
my
nose
over
a
paint-pot.
I
told
her
firmly
that
I
knew
a
great
deal
better
what
was
the
matter
with
me
than
she
did.
I
had
got
a
chill,
and
decided
to
have
a
bath
as
hot
as
I
could
bear
it.
Bath
ready—
could
scarcely
bear
it
so
hot.
I
persevered,
and
got
in;
very
hot,
but
very
acceptable.
I
lay
still
for
some
time.
On
moving
my
hand
above
the
surface
of
the
water,
I
experienced
the
greatest
fright
I
ever
received
in
the
whole
course
of
my
life;
for
imagine
my
horror
on
discovering
my
hand,
as
I
thought,
full
of
blood.
My
first
thought
was
that
I
had
ruptured
an
artery,
and
was
bleeding
to
death,
and
should
be
discovered,
later
on,
looking
like
a
second
Marat,
as
I
remember
seeing
him
in
Madame
Tussaud’s.
My
second
thought
was
to
ring
the
bell,
but
remembered
there
was
no
bell
to
ring.
My
third
was,
that
there
was
nothing
but
the
enamel
paint,
which
had
dissolved
with
boiling
water.
I
stepped
out
of
the
bath,
perfectly
red
all
over,
resembling
the
Red
Indians
I
have
seen
depicted
at
an
East-End
theatre.
I
determined
not
to
say
a
word
to
Carrie,
but
to
tell
Farmerson
to
come
on
Monday
and
paint
the
bath
white.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
