The Diary of a Nobody | Page 7

to say Carrie was not, in fact we had a few words about it. She said I
ought to have consulted her, and she had never heard of such a thing as
a bath being painted red. I replied: "It's merely a matter of taste."
Fortunately, further argument on the subject was stopped by a voice
saying, "May I come in?" It was only Cummings, who said, "Your
maid opened the door, and asked me to excuse her showing me in, as
she was wringing out some socks." I was delighted to see him, and
suggested we should have a game of whist with a dummy, and by way
of merriment said: "You can be the dummy." Cummings (I thought
rather ill-naturedly) replied: "Funny as usual." He said he couldn't stop,
he only called to leave me the Bicycle News, as he had done with it.
Another ring at the bell; it was Gowing, who said he "must apologise
for coming so often, and that one of these days we must come round to
HIM." I said: "A very extraordinary thing has struck me." "Something
funny, as usual," said Cummings. "Yes," I replied; "I think even you
will say so this time. It's concerning you both; for doesn't it seem odd
that Gowing's always coming and Cummings' always going?" Carrie,
who had evidently quite forgotten about the bath, went into fits of
laughter, and as for myself, I fairly doubled up in my chair, till it
cracked beneath me. I think this was one of the best jokes I have ever
made.
Then imagine my astonishment on perceiving both Cummings and
Gowing perfectly silent, and without a smile on their faces. After rather
an unpleasant pause, Cummings, who had opened a cigar-case, closed it
up again and said: "Yes--I think, after that, I SHALL be going, and I

am sorry I fail to see the fun of your jokes." Gowing said he didn't
mind a joke when it wasn't rude, but a pun on a name, to his thinking,
was certainly a little wanting in good taste. Cummings followed it up
by saying, if it had been said by anyone else but myself, he shouldn't
have entered the house again. This rather unpleasantly terminated what
might have been a cheerful evening. However, it was as well they went,
for the charwoman had finished up the remains of the cold pork.
April 28.--At the office, the new and very young clerk Pitt, who was
very impudent to me a week or so ago, was late again. I told him it
would be my duty to inform Mr. Perkupp, the principal. To my surprise,
Pitt apologised most humbly and in a most gentlemanly fashion. I was
unfeignedly pleased to notice this improvement in his manner towards
me, and told him I would look over his unpunctuality. Passing down
the room an hour later. I received a smart smack in the face from a
rolled-up ball of hard foolscap. I turned round sharply, but all the clerks
were apparently riveted to their work. I am not a rich man, but I would
give half-a-sovereign to know whether that was thrown by accident or
design. Went home early and bought some more enamel paint--black
this time--and spent the evening touching up the fender, picture-frames,
and an old pair of boots, making them look as good as new. Also
painted Gowing's walking-stick, which he left behind, and made it look
like ebony.
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