Diary Of A Nobody, Chapters 11 And 12

Fall asleep to this gently amusing tale of London life in Victorian England, narrated by the pompous yet oddly endearing Mr. Charles Pooter. How will Pooter's son Lupin fare now that his engagement to Daisy Mutlar has been broken off?

Transcript

Hello there.

It's Mandy here again.

Thanks so much for joining me.

We're going to hear chapters 11 and 12 of The Diary of a Nobody,

A gently comic novel which was written in 1888 by the brothers Charles and Weedon Grosmith.

Please feel free to make yourself really comfortable as we settle down to enjoy this disarmingly honest tale of Victorian life in London as seen through The Diary of Mr Charles Pooter.

Chapter 11.

November 20th.

Have seen nothing of Lupin the whole day.

Bought a cheap address book.

I spent the evening copying in the names and addresses of my friends and acquaintances.

I left out the muttlers of course.

November the 21st.

Lupin turned up for a few minutes in the evening.

He asked for a drop of brandy with a sort of careless look which to my mind was theatrical and quite ineffective.

I said my boy I have none and I don't think I should give it to you if I had.

Lupin said I'll go where I can get some then and walked out of the house.

Carrie took the boys part and the rest of the evening was spent in a disagreeable discussion in which the words Daisy and muttler must have occurred a thousand times.

November the 22nd.

Gowing and Cummings dropped in during the evening.

Lupin also came in bringing his friend Mr Berwyn Fosselton,

One of the Holloway comedians who was at our party the other night and who cracked our little round table.

Happy to say Daisy muttler was never referred to.

The conversation was almost entirely monopolised by the young fellow Fosselton who not only looked rather like Mr Irving but seemed to imagine that he was that celebrated actor.

I must say he gave some capital imitations of him.

As he showed no signs of moving at supper time I said if you like to stay Mr Fosselton for our usual crust pray do.

He replied oh thanks but please call me Berwyn Fosselton.

It is a double name.

There are lots of Fosseltons so please call me Berwyn Fosselton.

He began doing the Irving business all through supper.

He sank so low down in his chair that his chin was almost on a level with the table and twice he kicked Carrie under the table,

Upset his wine and flashed a knife uncomfortably near Gowing's face.

After supper he kept stretching out his legs on the fender indulging in scraps of quotations from plays which were Greek to me and more than once he knocked over the fire irons making a hideous row.

Poor Carrie already having a bad headache.

When he went he said to our surprise I will come tomorrow and bring my Irving make up.

Gowing and Cummings said they would like to see that and would come too.

I couldn't help thinking they might as well give a party at my house while they're about it.

However as Carrie sensibly said do anything dear to make Lupin forget the Daisy Mutlar business.

November the 23rd.

In the evening Cummings came early.

Gowing came a little later and brought without asking permission a fat and I think very vulgar looking man named Padge who appeared to be all moustache.

Gowing never attempted any apology to either of us.

He said that Padge wanted to see the Irving business to which Padge said that's right and that is about all he did say during the entire evening.

Lupin came in and seemed in much better spirits.

He had prepared a bit of a surprise.

Mr Berwyn Fosselton had come in with him but had gone upstairs to get ready.

In half an hour Lupin retired from the parlour and returning in a few minutes announced Mr Henry Irving.

I must say we were all astonished.

I never saw such a resemblance.

It was astounding.

The only person who didn't appear interested was the man Padge who had got the best armchair and was puffing away at a foul pipe into the fireplace.

After some little time I said why do actors always wear their hair so long.

Carrie in a moment said Mr Hair doesn't wear long hair.

How we laughed except Mr Fosselton who said in a rather patronising kind of way the joke Mrs Pooter is extremely appropriate if not altogether new.

Thinking this rather a snub I said Mr Fosselton I fancy he interrupted me by saying Mr Berwyn Fosselton if you please which made me quite forget what I was going to say to him.

During the supper Mr Berwyn Fosselton again monopolised the conversation with his Irving talk.

Both Carrie and I came to the conclusion one can have even too much imitation of Irving.

After supper Mr Berwyn Fosselton got a little too boisterous over his Irving imitation and suddenly seizing Gowing by the collar of his coat dug his thumbnail accidentally of course into Gowing's neck and took a piece of flesh out.

Gowing was rightly annoyed but that man Padge who having declined our modest supper in order that he should not lose his comfortable chair burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the little misadventure.

I was so annoyed at the conduct of Padge I said I suppose you would have laughed if he had poked Mr Gowing's eye out to which Padge replied that's right and laughed more than ever.

I think perhaps the greatest surprise was when we broke up for Mr Berwyn Fosselton said good night Mr Pooter I'm glad you like the imitation I'll bring the other makeup tomorrow night.

November the 24th.

I went to town without a pocket handkerchief.

This is the second time I've done this during the last week.

I must be losing my memory.

Had it not been for this Daisy Mutler business I would have written to Mr Berwyn Fosselton and told him I should be out this evening but I fancy he is the sort of young man who would come all the same.

Dear old Cummings came in the evening but Gowing sent round a little note saying he hoped I would excuse his not turning up which rather amused me.

He added that his neck was still painful.

Of course Berwyn Fosselton came but Lupin never turned up and imagine my utter disgust when that man Padge actually came again and not even accompanied by Gowing.

I was exasperated and said Mr Padge this is a surprise.

Dear Carrie fearing unpleasantness said oh I suppose Mr Padge has only come to see the other Irving makeup.

Mr Padge said that's right and took the best chair again from which he never moved the whole evening.

My only consolation is he takes no supper so he is not an expensive guest but I shall speak to Gowing about the matter.

The Irving imitations and conversations occupied the whole evening till I was sick of it.

Once we had a rather heated discussion which was commenced by Cummings saying that it appeared to him that Mr Berwyn Fosselton was not only like Mr Irving but was in his judgment everywhere as good or even better.

I ventured to remark that after all it was but an imitation of an original.

Cummings said surely some imitations were better than the originals.

I made what I considered a very clever remark without an original there can be no imitation.

Mr Berwyn Fosselton said quite impertinently don't disgust me in my presence if you please and Mr Pooter I should advise you to talk about what you understand to which that cad Padge replied that's right.

Dear Carrie saved the whole thing by suddenly saying I'll be Ellen Terry.

Dear Carrie's imitation wasn't a bit liked but she was so spontaneous and so funny that the disagreeable discussion passed off.

When they left I very pointedly said to Mr Berwyn Fosselton and Mr Padge that we should be engaged tomorrow evening November the 25th.

Had a long letter from Mr Fosselton respecting last night's Irving discussion.

I was very angry and I wrote and said I knew little or nothing about stage matters was not in the least interested in them and positively declined to be drawn into a discussion on the subject even at the risk of its leading to a breach of friendship.

I never wrote a more determined letter.

On returning home at the usual hour on Saturday afternoon I met near the archway Daisy Muttler.

My heart gave a leap I bowed rather stiffly but she affected not to have seen me very much annoyed in the evening by the laundress sending home an odd sock.

Sarah said she sent two pairs and the laundress declared only a pair and a half was sent.

I spoke to Carrie about it but she rather testily replied I am tired of speaking to her you had better go and speak to her yourself she is outside.

I did so but the laundress declared that only an odd sock was sent.

Gowing passed into the passage at this time and was rude enough to listen to the conversation.

Interrupting he said don't waste the odd sock old man do an act of charity and give it to some poor man with only one leg.

The laundress giggled like an idiot.

I was disgusted.

I walked upstairs for the purpose of pinning down my collar as the button had come off the back of my shirt.

When I returned to the parlour Gowing was retailing his idiotic joke about the old sock and Carrie was roaring with laughter.

I suppose I'm losing my sense of humour.

I spoke my mind pretty freely about Padge.

Gowing said he had met him only once before that evening he'd been introduced by a friend and as he,

Padge,

Had stood a good dinner Gowing wished to show him some little return.

Upon my word Gowing's coolness surpasses all belief.

Lupin came in before I could reply and Gowing unfortunately inquired after Daisy Mutler.

Lupin shouted mind your own business sir and bounced out of the room slamming the door.

The remainder of the night was Daisy Mutler,

Daisy Mutler,

Daisy Mutler,

Oh dear.

November the 26th,

Sunday.

The curate preached a very good sermon today,

Very good indeed.

His appearance is never so impressive as our dear old vicar's but I'm bound to say his sermons are much more impressive.

A rather annoying incident occurred of which I must make mention.

Mrs Fernloss who is quite a grand lady living in one of those large houses in the Camden Road stopped to speak to me after church when we were all coming out.

I must say I felt flattered for she has thought a good deal of.

I suppose she knew me through seeing me so often take round the plate especially as she always occupies the corner seat of the pew.

She is a very influential lady and may have had something of the utmost importance to say but unfortunately as she started speaking a strong gust of wind came and blew my hat off into the middle of the road.

I had to run after it and have the greatest difficulty in recovering it.

When I had succeeded in doing so I found Mrs Fernloss had walked on with some swell friends and I felt I couldn't well approach her now especially as my hat was covered with mud.

I cannot say how disappointed I felt.

In the evening,

Sunday evening of all others,

I found an impertinent note from Mr Bowen Fosselton which ran as follows.

Dear Mr Pooter,

Although you're junior by perhaps some 20 or 30 years which is sufficient reason that you ought to have a longer record of the things and ways in this miniature of a planet,

I feel it is just within the bounds of possibility that the wheels of your life don't travel so quickly round as those of the humble writer of these lines.

The dandy horse of past days has been known to overtake the slow coach.

Do I make myself understood?

Very well then.

Permit me,

Mr Pooter,

To advise you to accept the verb sap.

Acknowledge your defeat and take your whipping gracefully for remember you threw down the glove and I cannot claim to be either mentally or physically a coward.

Revenons à nos moutons.

Our lives run in different grooves.

I live for my art,

The stage.

Your life is devoted to commercial pursuits,

A life among ledgers.

My books are of different metal.

Your life in the city is honourable,

I admit,

But how different?

Cannot even you see the ocean between us,

A channel that prevents the meeting of our brains in harmonious accord?

Ah,

But chacun a son goût.

I have registered a vow to mount the steps of fame.

I may crawl,

I may slip,

I may even falter,

We are all weak,

But reach the top rung of the ladder I will.

When there my voice shall be heard,

For I will shout to the multitudes below.

Vicky.

For the present I am only an amateur and my work is unknown,

Forsooth,

Save to a party of friends with here and there an enemy.

But Mr Pooter,

Let me ask you,

What is the difference between the amateur and the professional?

None.

Stay,

Yes,

There is a difference.

One is paid for doing what the other does,

As skilfully,

For nothing.

But I will be paid too,

For I,

Contrary to the wishes of my family and friends,

Have at last elected to adopt the stage as my profession.

And when the farce crave is over,

And mark you that will be soon,

I will make my power known,

For I feel,

Pardon my apparent conceit,

That there is no living man who can play the hump-backed Richard as I feel and know I can.

And you will be the first to come round and bend your head in submission.

There are many matters you may understand,

But knowledge of the fine art of acting is to you an unknown quantity.

Pray let this discussion cease with this letter.

Yours truly,

Berwyn Fosselton.

I was disgusted.

When Lupin came in,

I handed him this impertinent letter and said,

My boy,

In that letter you can see the true character of your friend.

Lupin,

To my surprise,

Said,

Oh yes,

He showed me the letter before he sent it.

I think he is right and you ought to apologise.

Chapter 12.

December the 17th.

As I open my scribbling diary,

I find the words Oxford Micklemore's term ends.

Why this should induce me to indulge in a retrospective,

I don't know,

But it does.

The last few weeks of my diary are of minimum interest.

The breaking off of the engagement between Lupin and Daisy Mutler has made him a different being and Carrie a rather depressing companion.

She was a little dull last Saturday and I thought to cheer her up by reading some extracts from my diary,

But she walked out of the room in the middle of the reading without a word.

On her return,

I said,

Did my diary bore you,

Darling?

She replied,

To my surprise,

I really wasn't listening,

Dear.

I was obliged to leave to give instructions to the laundress.

In consequence of some stuff she puts in the water,

Two more of Lupin's coloured shirts have run.

He says he won't wear them.

I said,

Everything is Lupin.

It's all Lupin,

Lupin,

Lupin.

There was not a single button on my shirt yesterday but I made no complaint.

Carrie simply replied,

You should do as all other men do and wear studs.

In fact,

I never saw anyone but you wear buttons on the shirt fronts.

I said,

I certainly wore none yesterday for there were none on.

Another thought that strikes me is that Gowing seldom calls in the evening and Cummings never does.

I fear they don't get on well with Lupin.

December the 18th.

Yesterday I was in a retrospective vein but today it is prospective.

I see nothing but clouds,

Clouds,

Clouds.

Lupin is perfectly intolerable over the Daisy Mutler business.

He won't say what is the cause of the breach.

He is evidently condemning her conduct and yet if we venture to agree with him,

Says he won't hear a word against her.

So what is one to do?

Another thing which is disappointing to me is that Carrie and Lupin take no interest whatever in my diary.

I broached the subject at the breakfast table today.

I said I was in hopes that if anything ever happened to me,

The diary would be an endless source of pleasure to you both,

To say nothing of the chance of the remuneration which may accrue from its being published.

Both Carrie and Lupin burst out laughing.

Carrie was sorry for this,

I could see,

For she said,

I didn't mean to be rude,

Dear Charlie,

But truly I don't think your diary would sufficiently interest the public to be taken up by a publisher.

I replied,

I am sure it would prove quite as interesting as some of the ridiculous reminiscences that have been published lately.

Besides,

It's the diary that makes the man.

Where would Evelyn and Pepys have been if it had not been for their diaries?

Carrie said I was quite the philosopher,

But Lupin,

In a jeering tone,

Said if it had been written on larger paper gov,

We might get a fair price from a butterman for it.

As I am in the prospective vein,

I vow the end of this year will see the end of my diary.

December the 19th,

The annual invitation came to spend Christmas with Carrie's mother,

The usual family festive gathering to which we always look forward.

Lupin declined to go.

I was astounded and expressed my surprise and disgust.

Lupin then obliged us with the following radical speech.

I hate a family gathering at Christmas.

What does it mean?

Why?

Someone says,

Ah,

We miss old,

Poor old Uncle James who was here last year and we all begin to snivel.

Someone else says it's two years since poor Aunt Liz used to sit in that corner.

Then we all begin to snivel again.

Then another gloomy relation says,

Ah,

I wonder whose turn it will be next.

Then we all snivel again and proceed to eat and drink too much and they don't discover until I get up that we have been seated 13 at dinner.

December the 20th,

Went to Smirksons,

The drapers in the Strand,

Who this year have turned out everything in the shop and devoted the whole place to the sale of Christmas cards.

Shop crowded with people who seemed to take up the cards rather roughly and after a hurried glance at them,

Throw them down again.

I remarked to one of the young persons serving that carelessness appeared to be a disease with some purchasers.

The observation was scarcely out of my mouth when my thick coat sleeve caught against a large pile of expensive cards in boxes,

One on top of the other,

And threw them down.

The manager came forward looking very much annoyed and picking up several cards from the ground said to one of the assistants with a palpable side glance at me,

Put these amongst the sixpenny goods,

They can't be sold for a shilling now.

The result was I felt it my duty to buy some of these damaged cards.

I had to buy more and pay more than I intended.

Unfortunately I didn't examine them all and when I got home I discovered a vulgar card with a picture of a fat nurse with two babies,

One black and the other white and the words we wish pa a merry Christmas.

I tore up the card and threw it away.

Carrie said the great disadvantage of going out in society and increasing the number of our friends was that we should have to send out nearly two dozen cards this year.

December the 21st.

To save the postman a miserable Christmas we follow the example of all unselfish people and send out our cards early.

Most of the cards had finger marks which I didn't notice at night.

I shall buy all future cards in the daytime.

Lupin,

Whoever since he has had the appointment with the stocks and shares broker does not seem over scrupulous in his dealings,

Told me never to rub out the pencilled price on the backs of the cards.

I asked him why.

Lupin said suppose your card is marked nine pence.

Well all you have to do is pencil a three and a long down stroke after it in front of the nine pence and people will think you have given five times the price for it.

In the evening Lupin was very low spirited.

I reminded him that behind the clouds the sun still shines.

He said oh it never shines on me.

I said I'll stop Lupin my boy.

You were worried about Daisy Mutler.

Don't think of her anymore.

You ought to congratulate yourself on having got off a very bad bargain.

Her notions are far too grand for our simple tastes.

He jumped up and said I won't allow one word to be uttered against her.

She's worth a whole bunch of your friends put together.

That inflated sloping head of a perc up included.

I left the room with silent dignity but caught my foot in the mat.

December the 23rd.

I exchanged no words with Lupin in the morning but as he seemed to be in exuberant spirits in the evening I ventured to ask him where he intended to spend his Christmas.

He replied oh most likely at the Mutlers.

In wonderment I said what after your engagement has been broken off.

Lupin said who said it is off.

I said but you have given us both to understand.

He interrupted me and said well never mind what I said.

It is on again so there to be continued.

Reviews

What is there to say but Lupin, Lupin, Lupin. 🤣. Thanks Mandy 🙏🏻

Love these stories . They do work as sleep stories, but I’m enjoying so much I relisten many time so I can hear what’s going on. Very charming. Thank you Mandy.