room, and wiped the pen on
the new pen-wiper. Then I called up-stairs: "Eliza, I have just found
your present very useful. Would you like to come and look?" She
happened to be fastening something up the back at the time, but she
came down a minute afterward.

She picked up the pen-wiper, looked at it, exclaimed "Ruined!" and then
walked rapidly out of the room. I followed her, and asked what was the
matter.

It appeared that the words, "Kindly clean the pen," meant that the pen
was to be cleaned on a scrap of paper before the pen-wiper was used.
Eliza said that I might have known that the pretty muslin was not
intended to be a perfect mess of ink.

"Well," I said, "I didn't know. That's all there is to say about it."

But it was not, apparently, all that there was to say about it. In
fact, the whole thing cast an unpleasant shade over the evening of my
birthday. Finally I took a strong line, and refused to speak at all.

THE 9.43

In the course of conversation on Saturday evening it had transpired
that Eliza had never been in St. Paul's Cathedral. "Then," I said, "you
shall go there to-morrow morning; I will take you."

"I'm sure I'm agreeable," said Eliza.

On the Sunday morning one or two little things had happened to put me
out. At breakfast I had occasion to say that the eggs were stone-cold,
and Eliza contradicted me. It was very absurd of her. As I pointed out
to her, what earthly motive could I have for saying that an egg was
cold if it was not? What should I gain by it? Of course she had no
answer--that is, no reasonable answer. Then after breakfast I broke my
boot-lace in two places. No, I was not angry. I hope I can keep my
temper as well as most men. But I was in a state of mind bordering on
the irritable.

* * * * *

Eliza came down-stairs, dressed for going out, asked me why I was not
ready, and said we should miss the 9.43.

"Indeed!" said I. "And what, precisely, might you mean by the 9.43?"

"I mean, precisely, the train which leaves here for the city at
seventeen minutes to ten."

"One of your usual mistakes," I replied. "The train is 9.53, and not
9.43."

"Have you a time-table?" she asked.

"No."

"Because if you had a time-table I could show you that you are wrong.
Why, I _know_ it's the 9.43."

"If I had a time-table I could show you most certainly that it is the
9.53. Not that you'd believe it, even then. You're too obstinate,