I receive an insulting Christmas card. We spend a pleasant Christmas atCarrie’s mother’s. A Mr. Moss is rather too free. A boisterous evening,during which I am struck in the dark. I receive an extraordinary letterfrom Mr. Mutlar, senior, respecting Lupin. We miss drinking out the OldYear.

DECEMBER 24.—I am a poor man, but I would gladly give ten shillings tofind out who sent me the insulting Christmas card I received thismorning. I never insult people; why should they insult me? The worstpart of the transaction is, that I find myself suspecting all my friends.The handwriting on the envelope is evidently disguised, being writtensloping the wrong way. I cannot think either Gowing or Cummings would dosuch a mean thing. Lupin denied all knowledge of it, and I believe him;although I disapprove of his laughing and sympathising with the offender.Mr. Franching would be above such an act; and I don’t think any of theMutlars would descend to such a course. I wonder if Pitt, that impudentclerk at the office, did it? Or Mrs. Birrell, the charwoman, orBurwin-Fosselton? The writing is too good for the former.

CHRISTMAS DAY.—We caught the 10.20 train at Paddington, and spent apleasant day at Carrie’s mother’s. The country was quite nice andpleasant, although the roads were sloppy. We dined in the middle of theday, just ten of us, and talked over old times. If everybody had a nice,_un_interfering mother-in-law, such as I have, what a deal of happinessthere would be in the world. Being all in good spirits, I proposed herhealth, and I made, I think, a very good speech.

I concluded, rather neatly, by saying: “On an occasion like this—whetherrelatives, friends, or acquaintances,—we are all inspired with goodfeelings towards each other. We are of one mind, and think only of loveand friendship. Those who have quarrelled with absent friends shouldkiss and make it up. Those who happily have not fallen out, can kiss allthe same.”

I saw the tears in the eyes of both Carrie and her mother, and must say Ifelt very flattered by the compliment. That dear old Reverend John PanzySmith, who married us, made a most cheerful and amusing speech, and saidhe should act on my suggestion respecting the kissing. He then walkedround the table and kissed all the ladies, including Carrie. Of courseone did not object to this; but I was more than staggered when a youngfellow named Moss, who was a stranger to me, and who had scarcely spokena word through dinner, jumped up suddenly with a sprig of misletoe, andexclaimed: “Hulloh! I don’t see why I shouldn’t be on in this scene.”Before one could realise what he was about to do, he kissed Carrie andthe rest of the ladies.

Fortunately the matter was treated as a joke, and we all laughed; but itwas a dangerous experiment, and I felt very uneasy for a moment as to theresult. I subsequently referred to the matter to Carrie, but she said:“Oh, he’s not much more than a boy.” I said that he had a very largemoustache for a boy. Carrie replied: “I didn’t say he was not a niceboy.”

DECEMBER 26.—I did not sleep very well last night; I never do in astrange bed. I feel a little indigestion, which one must expect at thistime of the year. Carrie and I returned to Town in the evening. Lupincame in late. He said he enjoyed his Christmas, and added: “I feel asfit as a Lowther Arcade fiddle, and only require a little more ‘oof’ tofeel as fit as a £500 Stradivarius.” I have long since given up tryingto understand Lupin’s slang, or asking him to explain it.

DECEMBER 27.—I told Lupin I was expecting Gowing and Cummings to drop into-morrow evening for a quiet game. I was in hope the boy wouldvolunteer to stay in, and help to amuse them. Instead of which, he said:“Oh, you had better put them off, as I have asked Daisy and Frank Mutlarto come.” I said I could not think of doing such a thing. Lupin said:“Then I will send a wire, and put off Daisy.” I suggested that apost-card or letter would reach her quite soon enough, and would not beso extravagant.

Carrie, who had listened to the above conversation with apparentannoyance, directed a well-aimed shaft at Lupin. She said: “Lupin, whydo you object to Daisy meeting your father’s friends? Is it because theyare not good enough for her, or (which is equally possible) _she_ is notgood enough for them?” Lupin was dumbfounded, and could make no reply.When he left the room, I gave Carrie a kiss of approval.

DECEMBER 28—Lupin, on coming down to breakfast, said to his mother: “Ihave not put off Daisy and Frank, and should like them to join Gowing andCummings this evening.” I felt very pleased with the boy for this.Carrie said, in reply: “I am glad you let me know in time, as I can turnover the cold leg of mutton, dress it with a little parsley, and no onewill know it has been cut.” She further said she would make a fewcustards, and stew some pippins, so that they would be cold by theevening.

Finding Lupin in good spirits, I asked him quietly if he really had anypersonal objection to either Gowing or Cummings. He replied: “Not in theleast. I think Cummings looks rather an ass, but that is partly due tohis patronising ‘the three-and-six-one-price hat company,’ and wearing areach-me-down frock-coat. As for that perpetual brown velveteen jacketof Gowing’s—why, he resembles an itinerant photographer.”

I said it was not the coat that made the gentleman; whereupon Lupin, witha laugh, replied: “No, and it wasn’t much of a gentleman who made theircoats.”

We were rather jolly at supper, and Daisy made herself very agreeable,especially in the earlier part of the evening, when she sang. At supper,however, she said: “Can you make tee-to-tums with bread?” and shecommenced rolling up pieces of bread, and twisting them round on thetable. I felt this to be bad manners, but of course said nothing.Presently Daisy and Lupin, to my disgust, began throwing bread-pills ateach other. Frank followed suit, and so did Cummings and Gowing, to myastonishment. They then commenced throwing hard pieces of crust, onepiece catching me on the forehead, and making me blink. I said: “Steady,please; steady!” Frank jumped up and said: “Tum, tum; then the bandplayed.”

I did not know what this meant, but they all roared, and continued thebread-battle. Gowing suddenly seized all the parsley off the coldmutton, and threw it full in my face. I looked daggers at Gowing, whoreplied: “I say, it’s no good trying to look indignant, with your hairfull of parsley.” I rose from the table, and insisted that a stop shouldbe put to this foolery at once. Frank Mutlar shouted: “Time, gentlemen,please! time!” and turned out the gas, leaving us in absolute darkness.

I was feeling my way out of the room, when I suddenly received a hardintentional punch at the back of my head. I said loudly: “Who did that?”There was no answer; so I repeated the question, with the same result. Istruck a match, and lighted the gas. They were all talking and laughing,so I kept my own counsel; but, after they had gone, I said to Carrie;“The person who sent me that insulting post-card at Christmas was hereto-night.”

DECEMBER 29.—I had a most vivid dream last night. I woke up, and onfalling asleep, dreamed the same dream over again precisely. I dreamt Iheard Frank Mutlar telling his sister that he had not only sent me theinsulting Christmas card, but admitted that he was the one who punched myhead last night in the dark. As fate would have it, Lupin, at breakfast,was reading extracts from a letter he had just received from Frank.

I asked him to pass the envelope, that I might compare the writing. Hedid so, and I examined it by the side of the envelope containing theChristmas card. I detected a similarity in the writing, in spite of theattempted disguise. I passed them on to Carrie, who began to laugh. Iasked her what she was laughing at, and she said the card was neverdirected to me at all. It was “L. Pooter,” not “C. Pooter.” Lupin askedto look at the direction and the card, and exclaimed, with a laugh: “Ohyes, Guv., it’s meant for me.”

I said: “Are you in the habit of receiving insulting Christmas cards?”He replied: “Oh yes, and of _sending_ them, too.”

In the evening Gowing called, and said he enjoyed himself very much lastnight. I took the opportunity to confide in him, as an old friend, aboutthe vicious punch last night. He burst out laughing, and said: “Oh, itwas _your head_, was it? I know I accidentally hit something, but Ithought it was a brick wall.” I told him I felt hurt, in both senses ofthe expression.

DECEMBER 30, Sunday.—Lupin spent the whole day with the Mutlars. Heseemed rather cheerful in the evening, so I said: “I’m glad to see you sohappy, Lupin.” He answered: “Well, Daisy is a splendid girl, but I wasobliged to take her old fool of a father down a peg. What with hismeanness over his cigars, his stinginess over his drinks, his farthingeconomy in turning down the gas if you only quit the room for a second,writing to one on half-sheets of note-paper, sticking the remnant of thelast cake of soap on to the new cake, putting two bricks on each side ofthe fireplace, and his general ‘outside-halfpenny-‘bus-ness,’ I wascompelled to let him have a bit of my mind.” I said: “Lupin, you are notmuch more than a boy; I hope you won’t repent it.”

DECEMBER 31.—The last day of the Old Year. I received an extraordinaryletter from Mr. Mutlar, senior. He writes: “Dear Sir,—For a long timepast I have had considerable difficulty deciding the important question,‘Who is the master of my own house? Myself, or _your son_ Lupin?’Believe me, I have no prejudice one way or the other; but I have beenmost reluctantly compelled to give judgment to the effect that I am themaster of it. Under the circumstances, it has become my duty to forbidyour son to enter my house again. I am sorry, because it deprives me ofthe society of one of the most modest, unassuming, and gentlemanlypersons I have ever had the honour of being acquainted with.”

I did not desire the last day to wind up disagreeably, so I said nothingto either Carrie or Lupin about the letter.

A most terrible fog came on, and Lupin would go out in it, but promisedto be back to drink out the Old Year—a custom we have always observed.At a quarter to twelve Lupin had not returned, and the fog was fearful.As time was drawing close, I got out the spirits. Carrie and I decidingon whisky, I opened a fresh bottle; but Carrie said it smelt like brandy.As I knew it to be whisky, I said there was nothing to discuss. Carrie,evidently vexed that Lupin had not come in, did discuss it all the same,and wanted me to have a small wager with her to decide by the smell. Isaid I could decide it by the taste in a moment. A silly and unnecessaryargument followed, the result of which was we suddenly saw it was aquarter-past twelve, and, for the first time in our married life, wemissed welcoming in the New Year. Lupin got home at a quarter-past two,having got lost in the fog—so he said.