The Diary of a Nobody
Charles Pooter

July 1.—I find, on looking over my diary, nothing of any consequence has taken place during the last month.  To-day we lose Lupin, who has taken furnished apartments at Bayswater, near his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Murray Posh, at two guineas a week.  I think this is most extravagant of him, as it is half his salary.  Lupin says one never loses by a good address, and, to use his own expression, Brickfield Terrace is a bit “off.”  Whether he means it is “far off” I do not know.  I have long since given up trying to understand his curious expressions.  I said the neighbourhood had always been good enough for his parents.  His reply was: “It is no question of being good or bad.  There is no money in it, and I am not going to rot away my life in the suburbs.”

We are sorry to lose him, but perhaps he will get on better by himself, and there may be some truth in his remark that an old and a young horse can’t pull together in the same cart.

Gowing called, and said that the house seemed quite peaceful, and like old times.  He liked Master Lupin very well, but he occasionally suffered from what he could not help—youth.


The Diary of a Nobody is the fictitious diary of Charles Pooter, written by George Grossmith and originally serialised in Punch magazine in 1888 and 1889.
The text of this version is taken from the Gutenberg etext, and the weblog format was engineered by Kevan Davis (initially a straight weblog in 2004, then rewritten as an auto RSS generator in April 2007).