The Diary of a Nobody | Page 6

a reply from Merton, saying he was very busy, and just
at present couldn't manage passes for the Italian Opera, Haymarket,
Savoy, or Lyceum, but the best thing going on in London was the
Brown Bushes, at the Tank Theatre, Islington, and enclosed seats for
four; also bill for whisky.
April 23.--Mr. and Mrs. James (Miss Fullers that was) came to meat tea,
and we left directly after for the Tank Theatre. We got a 'bus that took
us to King's Cross, and then changed into one that took us to the
"Angel." Mr. James each time insisted on paying for all, saying that I
had paid for the tickets and that was quite enough.
We arrived at theatre, where, curiously enough, all our 'bus-load except
an old woman with a basket seemed to be going in. I walked ahead and
presented the tickets. The man looked at them, and called out: "Mr.
Willowly! do you know anything about these?" holding up my tickets.
The gentleman called to, came up and examined my tickets, and said:
"Who gave you these?" I said, rather indignantly: "Mr. Merton, of
course." He said: "Merton? Who's he?" I answered, rather sharply:
"You ought to know, his name's good at any theatre in London." He
replied: "Oh! is it? Well, it ain't no good here. These tickets, which are
not dated, were issued under Mr. Swinstead's management, which has
since changed hands." While I was having some very unpleasant words
with the man, James, who had gone upstairs with the ladies, called out:
"Come on!" I went up after them, and a very civil attendant said: "This
way, please, box H." I said to James: "Why, how on earth did you
manage it?" and to my horror he replied: "Why, paid for it of course."

This was humiliating enough, and I could scarcely follow the play, but
I was doomed to still further humiliation. I was leaning out of the box,
when my tie--a little black bow which fastened on to the stud by means
of a new patent--fell into the pit below. A clumsy man not noticing it,
had his foot on it for ever so long before he discovered it. He then
picked it up and eventually flung it under the next seat in disgust. What
with the box incident and the tie, I felt quite miserable. Mr. James, of
Sutton, was very good. He said: "Don't worry--no one will notice it
with your beard. That is the only advantage of growing one that I can
see." There was no occasion for that remark, for Carrie is very proud of
my beard.
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 Bezique."
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."
April 26.--Got some more red enamel paint (red, to my mind, being the
best colour), and painted the coal-scuttle, and the backs of our
Shakspeare, the binding of which had almost worn out.
April 27.--Painted the bath red, and was delighted with the result. Sorry