George Grossmith - The Diary of a Nobody

Mr Farmerson smokes all the way home in the cab

thought you would have sent round.’ I handed him his stick, which I remembered I had painted black with the enamel paint, thinking to improve it. He looked at it for a minute with a dazed expression and said: ‘Who did this?’

I said: ‘Eh, did what?’

He said: ‘Did what? Why, destroyed my stick! It belonged to my poor uncle, and I value it more than anything I have in the world! I’ll know who did it.’

I said: ‘I’m very sorry. I dare say it will come off. I did it for the best.’

Gowing said: ‘Then all I can say is, it’s a confounded liberty; and I would add, you’re a bigger fool than you look, only that’s absolutely impossible.’

MAY 12. Got a single copy of the Blackfriars Bi-weekly News . There was a short list of several names they had omitted; but the stupid people had mentioned our names as ‘Mr and Mrs C. Porter’. Most annoying! 41 41 (May 12) but the stupid people had mentioned our names as ‘Mr and Mrs C. Porter’. Most annoying! : George Grossmith often had to complain about the misspelling of his own name which would come out as Grousesmith, Goosesmith, Ghostsmith or Grogsmith. Wrote again and I took particular care to write our name in capital letters, POOTER, so that there should be no possible mistake this time.

MAY 16. Absolutely disgusted on opening the Blackfriars Bi-weekly News of today, to find the following paragraph: ‘We have received two letters from Mr and Mrs Charles Pewter, requesting us to announce the important fact that they were at the Mansion House Ball.’ I tore up the paper and threw it in the waste-paper basket. My time is far too valuable to bother about such trifles.

MAY 21. The last week or ten days terribly dull, Carrie being away at Mrs James’s, at Sutton. Cummings also away. Gowing, I presume, is still offended with me for black-enamelling his stick without asking him.

MAY 22. Purchased a new stick mounted with silver, which cost seven-and-sixpence (shall tell Carrie five shillings), and sent it round with nice note to Gowing.

MAY 23. Received strange note from Gowing; he said: ‘Offended? not a bit, my boy. I thought you were offended with me for losing my temper. Besides, I found after all it was not my poor uncle’s stick you painted. It was only a shilling thing I bought at a tobacconist’s. However, I am much obliged to you for your handsome present all the same.’

MAY 24. Carrie back. Hoorah! She looks wonderfully well, except that the sun has caught her nose.

MAY 25. Carrie brought down some of my shirts and advised me to take them to Trillip’s round the corner. She said: ‘The fronts and cuffs are much frayed.’ I said without a moment’s hesitation: ‘I’m frayed they are.’ Lor! how we roared. I thought we should never stop laughing. As I happened to be sitting next the driver going to town on the ’bus, I told him my joke about the ‘frayed’ shirts. I thought he would have rolled off his seat. They laughed at the office a good bit too over it.

MAY 26. Left the shirts to be repaired at Trillip’s I said to him: ‘I’m ’ fraid they are frayed .’ He said, without a smile: ‘They’re bound to do that, sir.’ Some people seem to be quite destitute of a sense of humour.

JUNE 1. The last week has been like old times, Carrie being back, and Gowing and Cummings called every evening nearly. Twice we sat out in the garden quite late. This evening we were like a pack of children, and played ‘consequences’. It is a good game.

JUNE 2. ‘Consequences’ again this evening. Not quite so successful as last night; Gowing having several times overstepped the limits of good taste.

JUNE 4. In the evening Carrie and I went round to Mr and Mrs Cummings’ to spend a quiet evening with them. Gowing was there, also Mr Stillbrook. It was quiet but pleasant. Mrs Cummings sang five or six songs, ‘No, Sir’, and ‘The Garden of Sleep’, 42 42 (June 4) Mrs Cummings sang five or six songs, ‘No Sir’ and ‘The Garden of Sleep ’: These were two contemporary favourites. George Grossmith wrote and sang a parody of the latter entitled ‘Thou of My Thou’ at a show performed in front of the Prince of Wales (the future Edward VII) at the Portland Hall, Southsea, in September 1889. being best in my humble judgement; but what pleased me most was the duet she sang with Carrie – classical duet, too. I think it is called, ‘I would that my love!’ It was beautiful. If Carrie had been in better voice, I don’t think professionals could have sung it better. After supper we made them sing it again. I never liked Mr Stillbrook since the walk that Sunday to the ‘Cow and Hedge’, but I must say he sings comic-songs well. His song: ‘We don’t want the old men now’, made us shriek with laughter, especially the verse referring to Mr Gladstone; 43 43 (June 4) especially the verse referring to Mr Gladstone : Gladstone, a Liberal, had been prime minister until 1885. At the time the Diary was written Lord Salisbury, a Conservative, was in office. but there was one verse I think he might have omitted, and I said so, but Gowing thought it was the best of the lot.

JUNE 6. Trillip brought round the shirts and, to my disgust, his charge for repairing was more than I gave for them when new. I told him so, and he impertinently replied: ‘Well, they are better now than when they were new.’ I paid him, and said it was a robbery. He said: ‘If you wanted your shirt-fronts made out of pauper-linen, such as is used for packing and book-binding, why didn’t you say so?’

JUNE 7. A dreadful annoyance. Met Mr Franching, who lives at Peckham, and who is a great swell in his way. I ventured to ask him to come home to meat-tea, and take pot-luck. I did not think he would accept such a humble invitation; but he did, saying in a most friendly way, he would rather ‘peck’ with us than by himself. I said: ‘We had better get into this blue ‘bus.’ He replied: ‘No blue-bussing for me. I have had enough of the blues lately. I lost a cool “thou” over the Copper Scare. Step in here.’

We drove up home in style, in a hansom-cab, and I knocked three times at the front door without getting an answer. I saw Carrie, through the panels of ground-glass (with stars), rushing upstairs. I told Mr Franching to wait at the door while I went round to the side. There I saw the grocer’s boy actually picking off the paint on the door, which had formed into blisters. No time to reprove him; so went round and effected an entrance through the kitchen window. I let in Mr Franching, and showed him into the drawing-room. I went upstairs to Carrie, who was changing her dress, and told her I had persuaded Mr Franching to come home. She replied: ‘How can you do such a thing? You know it’s Sarah’s holiday, and there’s not a thing in the house, the cold mutton having turned with the hot weather.’

Eventually Carrie, like a good creature as she is, slipped down, washed up the teacups, and laid the cloth, and I gave Franching our views of Japan 44 44 (June 7) our views of Japan : Japanese fashions became all the rage towards the end of the nineteenth century as contact with the hitherto obscure islands increased following Mutsuhito’s ascent to the throne in 1868 and the abolition of feudalism three years later. Another George Grossmith connection was Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Mikado (1885), set in the imaginary Japanese town of Titipu, which opened with Grossmith playing the Lord High Executioner. to look at while I ran round to the butcher’s to get three chops.

JULY 30. The miserable cold weather is either upsetting me or Carrie or both. We seem to break out into an argument about