her temper is more easily ruffled now than then when I point out
things to her. I should say that she was less ambitious than myself. I
do not mention these little matters at all by way of finding fault. On
the contrary, I have a very high opinion of Eliza.

[Illustration: "_Filled the coal-cellar right up at summer prices._"]

We have no children living.

With these few prefatory words, gentle reader, I fling open the front
door--to use a metaphorical expression--and invite you to witness a few
scenes of our domestic life that I have from time to time recorded.

THE CARDS

About a year ago Eliza and myself had a little difference of opinion. I
mentioned to her that we had no visiting-cards.

"Of course not," she said. "The idea of such a thing!" She spoke rather
hastily.

"Why do you say 'of course not'?" I replied, quietly. "Visiting-cards
are, I believe, in common use among ladies and gentlemen."

She said she did not see what that had to do with it.

"It has just this much to do with it," I answered: "that I do not
intend to go without visiting-cards another day!"

"What's the use?" she asked. "We never call on anybody, and nobody ever
calls on us."

"Is Miss Sakers nobody?"

"Well, she's never left a card here, and she really is a lady by birth,
and can prove it. She just asks the girl to say she's been, and it's
nothing of importance, when she doesn't find me in. If she can do
without cards, we can. You'd much better go by her."

"Thank you, I have my own ideas of propriety, and I do not take them
from Miss Sakers. I shall order fifty of each sort from Amrod's this
morning."

"Then that makes a hundred cards wasted."

"Either you cannot count," I said, "or you have yet to learn that there
are three sorts of cards used by married people--the husband's cards,
the wife's cards, and the card with both names on it."

"Go it!" said Eliza. "Get a card for the cat as well. She knows a lot
more cats than we know people!"

I could have given a fairly sharp retort to that, but I preferred to
remain absolutely silent. I thought it might show Eliza that she was
becoming rather vulgar. Silence is often the best rebuke. However,
Eliza went on:

"Mother would hate it, I know that. To talk about cards, with the last
lot of coals not paid for--I call it wickedness."

I simply walked out of the house, went straight down to Amrod's, and
ordered those cards. When the time comes for me to put my foot dow