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Chapter 1
Thereisalwayssomethingtobedone:atin-tackhere,aVenetianblindtoputstraight,afantonailup,orpartofacarpettonaildown—allofwhichIcandowithmypipeinmymouth;whileCarrieisnotaboveputtingabuttononashirt,mendingapillow-case,orpractisingthe“SylviaGavotte”onournewcottagepiano(onthethreeyears’system),manufacturedbyW.Bilkson(insmallletters),fromCollardandCollard(inverylargeletters).ItisalsoagreatcomforttoustoknowthatourboyWillieisgettingonsowellintheBankatOldham.Weshouldliketoseemoreofhim.Nowformydiary:—
April3.—Tradesmencalledforcustom,andIpromisedFarmerson,theironmonger,togivehimaturnifIwantedanynailsortools.By-the-by,thatremindsmethereisnokeytoourbedroomdoor,andthebellsmustbeseento.Theparlourbellisbroken,andthefrontdoorringsupintheservant’sbedroom,whichisridiculous.DearfriendGowingdroppedin,butwouldn’tstay,sayingtherewasaninfernalsmellofpaint.
April4.Tradesmenstillcalling;Carriebeingout,IarrangedtodealwithHorwin,whoseemedacivilbutcherwithanicecleanshop.Orderedashoulderofmuttonfortomorrow,togivehimatrial.CarriearrangedwithBorset,thebutterman,andorderedapoundoffreshbutter,andapoundandahalfofsaltdittoforkitchen,andashilling’sworthofeggs.