castic, I would have changed my penny for two ha'pennies.

I can speak with authority on the subject of being hard up. I have been
a provincial actor. If further evidence be required, which I do not
think likely, I can add that I have been a "gentleman connected with the
press." I have lived on 15 shilling a week. I have lived a week on 10,
owing the other 5; and I have lived for a fortnight on a great-coat.

It is wonderful what an insight into domestic economy being really hard
up gives one. If you want to find out the value of money, live on
15 shillings a week and see how much you can put by for clothes and
recreation. You will find out that it is worth while to wait for the
farthing change, that it is worth while to walk a mile to save a
penny, that a glass of beer is a luxury to be indulged in only at rare
intervals, and that a collar can be worn for four days.

Try it just before you get married. It will be excellent practice. Let
your son and heir try it before sending him to college. He won't grumble
at a hundred a year pocket-money then. There are some people to whom it
would do a world of good. There is that delicate blossom who can't drink
any claret under ninety-four, and who would as soon think of dining
off cat's meat as off plain roast mutton. You do come across these
poor wretches now and then, though, to the credit of humanity, they are
principally confined to that fearful and wonderful society known only
to lady novelists. I never hear of one of these creatures discussing a
_menu_ card but I feel a mad desire to drag him off to the bar of
some common east-end public-house and cram a sixpenny dinner down his
throat--beefsteak pudding, fourpence; potatoes, a penny; half a pint of
porter, a penny. The recollection of it (and the mingled fragrance of
beer, tobacco, and roast pork generally leaves a vivid impression) might
induce him to turn up his nose a little less frequently in the future
at everything that is put before him. Then there is that generous party,
the cadger's delight, who is so free with his small change, but who
never thinks of paying his debts. It might teach even him a little
common sense. "I always give the waiter a shilling. One can't give the
fellow less, you know," explained a young government clerk with whom I
was lunching the other day in Regent Street. I agreed with him as to the
utter impossibility of making it elevenpence ha'penny; but at the same
time I resolved to one day de