The Diary of a Nobody

Mr. Perkupp said: “Good-morning, Mr. Pooter! This is a very serious business. I am not referring so much to the dismissal of your son, for I knew we should have to part sooner or later. I am the head of this old, influential, and much-respected firm; and when I consider the time has come to revolutionise the business, I will do it myself.” I could see my good master was somewhat affected, and I said: “I hope, sir, you do not imagine that I have in any way countenanced my son’s unwarrantable interference?” Mr. Perkupp rose from his seat and took my hand, and said: “Mr. Pooter, I would as soon suspect myself as suspect you.” I was so agitated that in the confusion, to show my gratitude I very nearly called him a “grand old man.” Fortunately I checked myself in time, and said he was a “grand old master.” I was so unaccountable for my actions that I sat down, leaving him standing. Of course, I at once rose, but Mr. Perkupp bade me sit down, which I was very pleased to do. Mr. Perkupp, resuming, said: “You will understand, Mr. Pooter, that the high-standing nature of our firm will not admit of our bending to anybody. If Mr. Crowbillon chooses to put his work into other hands— I may add, less experienced hands— it is not for us to bend and beg back his custom.” “You shall not do it, sir,” I said with indignation. “Exactly,” replied Mr. Perkupp; “I shall not do it. But I was thinking this, Mr. Pooter. Mr. Crowbillon is our most valued client, and I will even confess— for I know this will not go beyond ourselves— that we cannot afford very well to lose him, especially in these times, which are not of the brightest. Now, I fancy you can be of service.”