_Monday._--I am afraid that I can no longer resist the temptation to return to my customary diet. This morning my breakfast was spoiled by finding that the _pièce de résistance_ was corked. And this when I pay 96_s._ a dozen, and the vintage is 1884! However, it could not be helped, and I managed to exist until lunch. Then came another disappointment. I had purposely ordered a light repast, as I had not much appetite. But I did intend to take it with soda-water--not neat. At dinner I managed to get through a biscuit, and as it was "devilled," it gave me renewed relish for the morning's champagne. This time the bottles were in excellent condition, and I quite forgot that earlier in the day one of them had been corked. All in the half-dozen were in perfect condition--especially the last magnum. I do not know how I got to bed. _Tuesday._--When I find that I have not removed my boots overnight, I know that I require a pick-me-up. A friend joined me at breakfast, and we both thought the champagne excellent. My friend BROWN, or perhaps it was JONES, and now I come to think of it, it may have been ROBINSON. And yet, when I consider the matter, there may have been three of them. I tried to count them, and it took me half the morning. Well, BROWN, or whoever he was, is a very good fellow. Most amusing, and an excellent audience. He laughs at everything. Whether you mean it to be funny or not, he laughs. I like him as a brother. A thoroughly good fellow. We had a most interesting discussion about the right pronunciation of Constitution. He said it was in two syllables. I said it was in one. I think I was right. We had a long chat about it after dinner. First we talked about it over the port, and then under the table. I don't know how I managed to get home, but I have a firm belief that it was all right--quite all right. _Wednesday._--Found my boots again on my feet when recovering consciousness. So this is the second time I must have slept in them. I feel excessively melancholy. I have wept very much, and were it not for the supporting-powers of whiskey, I am sure I should he much worse. However, there is only one thing to be done--to keep at it. One bottle down, another come on. I have floored no end of a lot of them. Strange to say that I am now happy after all my sorrow of this morning. Everything is right but the lamp-posts. They are all wrong. Getting in my way on my road home. I feel awfully tired. However, seems to be my duty to interfere in a street-row.