"The English social failure of the male sex not unfrequently entitles himself _General Agent_: this is the last straw he clutches at; if it should break, he sinks, and is heard of no more, unless his wife come to the rescue, by setting up a lodging-house or a boarding-school for young ladies. There, once more in smooth water, he wields the blacking-brush, makes acquaintance with the knife-board, or gets in the provisions. In allowing himself to be kept by his wife, he feels he loses some dignity; but if she should adopt any airs of superiority over him, he can always bring her to a sense of duty by beating her." * * * * * _12th July, 1872._ Mr. Tribble helps take up my trunks. On my way to bed my landlady informs me that her room adjoins mine, and if I need any thing in the night I have only to ask for it. This landlady will be a mother to me, I can see. The bed reminds me of a night I passed in a cemetery, during the Commune, sleeping on a gravestone. I turn and toss, unable to get any rest. Presently I had the misfortune to hit my elbow against the mattress. A knock at the door. "Who is there?" I cry. "Can I get you any thing, sir? I hope you are not ill," says a voice which I recognize as that of my landlady. "No, why?" "I thought you knocked, sir." "No. Oh! I knocked my elbow against the mattress." "Ah! that's it. I beg your pardon." I shall be well attended here, at all events. * * * * * _13th July, 1872._ The table here is not _recherché_; but twelve months' campaigning have made me tolerably easy to please. What would not the poor Parisians have given, during the Siege in 1870, for some of Mrs. Tribble's obdurate poultry and steaks! * * * * * _19th July, 1872._ I ask Mrs. Tribble for my bill. I received it immediately; it is a short and comprehensive one: £ _s._ _d._ Board and Lodging 5 5 0 Sundries 1 13 6 ---------------- Total £6 18 6 I can understand "lodging"; but "board" is a new word to me. I like to know what it is I have to pay for, and I open my dictionary. "Board (subst.), _planche_." _Planche!_ Why does the woman charge me for a _planche_? Oh! I have it--that's the bed, of course. My dictionary does not enlighten me on the subject of "Sundries." I make a few observations to Mrs. Tribble on the week's bill. This lady explains to me that she has had great misfortunes, that Tribble hardly does any work, and does not contribute a penny toward the household expenses. When he has done a little stroke of business, he takes a holiday, and only reappears when his purse is empty. I really cannot undertake to keep Tribble in _dolce far niente_, and I give Mrs. Tribble notice to leave. * * * * * _20th July, 1872._