We
settle down in our new home, and I
resolve to keep a diary. Tradesmen trouble us a bit, so does the scraper. The Curate calls and pays me a great
compliment.
My dear wife Carrie and I have just been a week in our new house, "The Laurels," Brickfield Terrace, Holloway-a nice six-roomed
residence, not counting basement, with a front breakfast-parlour. We have a little front garden; and there is a flight of ten steps up to the front door, which, by-the-by, we keep locked with the chain up. Cummings, Gowing, and our other
intimate friends always come to the little side
entrance, which saves the
servant the trouble of going up to the front door,
thereby taking her from her work. We have a nice little back garden which runs down to the railway. We were rather afraid of the noise of the trains at first, but the
landlord said we should not
notice them after a bit, and took £2 off the
rent. He was
certainly right; and beyond the cracking of the garden wall at the bottom, we have suffered no
inconvenience.
After my work in the City, I like to be at home. What's the good of a home, if you are never in it? "Home, Sweet Home," that's my
motto. I am always in of an evening. Our old friend Gowing may
drop in without
ceremony; so may Cummings, who lives
opposite. My dear wife Caroline and I are pleased to see them, if they like to
drop in on us. But Carrie and I can
manage to pass our evenings together without friends. There is always something to be done: a tin-tack here, a Venetian
blind to put
straight, a
fan to nail up, or part of a carpet to nail down-all of which I can do with my pipe in my mouth; while Carrie is not above putting a
button on a shirt, mending a pillow-case, or practising the "Sylvia Gavotte" on our new
cottage piano (on the three years'
system), manufactured by W. Bilkson (in small letters), from Collard and Collard (in very large letters). It is also a great
comfort to us to know that our boy Willie is getting on so well in the Bank at Oldham. We should like to see more of him. Now for my diary:-
April 3.-Tradesmen called for
custom, and I promised Farmerson, the ironmonger, to give him a turn if I wanted any nails or tools. By-the-by, that reminds me there is no key to our bedroom door, and the bells must be seen to. The parlour bell is broken, and the front door rings up in the
servant's bedroom, which is
ridiculous. Dear friend Gowing dropped in, but wouldn't stay, saying there was an
infernal smell of paint.
April 4. Tradesmen still calling; Carrie being out, I arranged to deal with Horwin, who seemed a
civil butcher with a nice clean shop. Ordered a shoulder of
mutton for to-morrow, to give him a trial. Carrie arranged with Borset, the butterman, and ordered a pound of
fresh butter, and a pound and a half of salt
ditto for kitchen, and a
shilling's worth of eggs. In the evening, Cummings unexpectedly dropped in to show me a meerschaum pipe he had won in a raffle in the City, and told me to
handle it carefully, as it would
spoil the colouring if the hand was moist. He said he wouldn't stay, as he didn't care much for the smell of the paint, and fell over the scraper as he went out. Must get the scraper removed, or else I shall get into a
scrape. I don't often make jokes.
April 5.-Two shoulders of
mutton arrived, Carrie having arranged with another
butcher without consulting me. Gowing called, and fell over scraper coming in. Must get that scraper removed.
April 6.-Eggs for breakfast simply shocking; sent them back to Borset with my compliments, and he needn't call any more for orders. Couldn't find
umbrella, and though it was pouring with rain, had to go without it. Sarah said Mr. Gowing must have took it by
mistake last night, as there was a stick in the 'all that didn't belong to nobody. In the evening, hearing someone talking in a loud voice to the
servant in the downstairs hall, I went out to see who it was, and was surprised to find it was Borset, the butterman, who was both drunk and
offensive. Borset, on seeing me, said he would be hanged if he would ever
serve City clerks any more-the game wasn't worth the candle. I
restrained my feelings, and quietly remarked that I
thought it was
possible for a city
clerk to be a gentleman. He replied he was very glad to hear it, and wanted to know whether I had ever come across one, for he hadn't. He left the house, slamming the door after him, which nearly broke the fanlight; and I heard him fall over the scraper, which made me feel glad I hadn't removed it. When he had gone, I
thought of a
splendid answer I ought to have given him. However, I will keep it for another
occasion.
April 7.-Being Saturday, I looked
forward to being home early, and putting a few things
straight; but two of our principals at the
office were
absent through illness, and I did not get home
till seven. Found Borset waiting. He had been three times during the day to apologise for his
conduct last night. He said he was unable to take his Bank Holiday last Monday, and took it last night instead. He begged me to
accept his
apology, and a pound of
fresh butter. He seems, after all, a
decent sort of fellow; so I gave him an order for some
fresh eggs, with a
request that on this
occasion they should be
fresh. I am afraid we shall have to get some new stair-carpets after all; our old ones are not quite wide enough to meet the paint on either side. Carrie suggests that we
might ourselves broaden the paint. I will see if we can
match the colour (dark chocolate) on Monday.
April 8, Sunday.-After Church, the Curate came back with us. I sent Carrie in to open front door, which we do not use except on
special occasions. She could not get it open, and after all my
display, I had to take the Curate (whose name, by-the-by, I did not catch,) round the side
entrance. He caught his foot in the scraper, and tore the bottom of his trousers. Most
annoying, as Carrie could not well offer to
repair them on a Sunday. After dinner, went to sleep. Took a walk round the garden, and discovered a beautiful spot for sowing mustard-and-cress and radishes. Went to Church again in the evening: walked back with the Curate. Carrie noticed he had got on the same
pair of trousers, only repaired. He wants me to take round the
plate, which I think a great
compliment.