m (when no gentlemen were present): never asked you
back to dinner again: left her card by her footman: and took not the
slightest notice of your wife and daughters at Lady Hustleby's assembly!
On the other hand, how easy, cozy, merry, comfortable, those little
dinners were; got up at one or two days' notice; when everybody was
contented; the soup as clear as amber; the wine as good as Trimalchio's
own; and the people kept their carriages waiting, and would not go away
until midnight!

Along with the catalogue of bygone pleasures, balls, banquets, and
the like, which the pages record, comes a list of much more important
occurrences, and remembrances of graver import. On two days of Dives's
diary are printed notices that "Dividends are due at the Bank." Let us
hope, dear sir, that this announcement considerably interests you; in
which case, probably, you have no need of the almanac-maker's printed
reminder. If you look over poor Jack Reckless's note-book, amongst
his memoranda of racing odds given and taken, perhaps you may
read:--"Nabbam's bill, due 29th September, 142l. 15s. 6d." Let us trust,
as the day has passed, that the little transaction here noted has been
satisfactorily terminated. If you are paterfamilias, and a worthy kind
gentleman, no doubt you have marked down on your register, 17th December
(say), "Boys come home." Ah, how carefully that blessed day is marked
in THEIR little calendars! In my time it used to be, Wednesday, 13th
November, "5 WEEKS FROM THE HOLIDAYS;" Wednesday, 20th November, "4
WEEKS FROM THE HOLIDAYS;" until sluggish time sped on, and we came to
WEDNESDAY 18th DECEMBER. O rapture! Do you remember pea-shooters?
I think we only had them on going home for holidays from private
schools,--at public schools men are too dignified. And then came that
glorious announcement, Wednesday, 27th, "Papa took us to the Pantomime;"
or if not papa, perhaps you condescended to go to the pit, under charge
of the footman.

That was near the end of the year--and mamma gave you a new pocket-book,
perhaps, with a little coin, God bless her, in the pocket. And that
pocket-book was for next year, you know; and, in that pocket-book
you had to write down that sad day, Wednesday, January 24th, eighteen
hundred and never mind what,--when Dr. Birch's young friends were
expected to re-assemble.

Ah me! Every person who turns this page over has his own little diary,
in paper or ruled in his memory tablets, and in which