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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
24
Once
she
quite
lost
her
head.
I
saw
someone
who
looked
like
Franching,
from
Peckham,
and
was
moving
towards
him
when
she
seized
me
by
the
coat-tails,
and
said
quite
loudly:
“Don’t
leave
me,”
which
caused
an
elderly
gentleman,
in
a
court-suit,
and
a
chain
round
him,
and
two
ladies,
to
burst
out
laughing.
There
was
an
immense
crowd
in
the
supper-room,
and,
my
stars!
it
was
a
splendid
supper—
any
amount
of
champagne.
Carrie
made
a
most
hearty
supper,
for
which
I
was
pleased;
for
I
sometimes
think
she
is
not
strong.
There
was
scarcely
a
dish
she
did
not
taste.
I
was
so
thirsty,
I
could
not
eat
much.
Receiving
a
sharp
slap
on
the
shoulder,
I
turned,
and,
to
my
amazement,
saw
Farmerson,
our
ironmonger.
He
said,
in
the
most
familiar
way:
“This
is
better
than
Brickfield
Terrace,
eh?”
I
simply
looked
at
him,
and
said
coolly:
“I
never
expected
to
see
you
here.”
He
said,
with
a
loud,
coarse
laugh:
“I
like
that—
if
you,
why
not
me?”
I
replied:
“Certainly,”
I
wish
I
could
have
thought
of
something
better
to
say.
He
said:
“Can
I
get
your
good
lady
anything?”
Carrie
said:
“No,
I
thank
you,”
for
which
I
was
pleased.
I
said,
by
way
of
reproof
to
him:
“You
never
sent
to-day
to
paint
the
bath,
as
I
requested.”
Farmerson
said:
“Pardon
me,
Mr.
Pooter,
no
shop
when
we’re
in
company,
please.”
Before
I
could
think
of
a
reply,
one
of
the
sheriffs,
in
full
Court
costume,
slapped
Farmerson
on
the
back
and
hailed
him
as
an
old
friend,
and
asked
him
to
dine
with
him
at
his
lodge.
I
was
astonished.
For
full
five
minutes
they
stood
roaring
with
laughter,
and
stood
digging
each
other
in
the
ribs.
They
kept
telling
each
other
they
didn’t
look
a
day
older.
They
began
embracing
each
other
and
drinking
champagne.
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