Sundry Miseries

This is a brief article from the April 3, 1824 edition of The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, which was sort of the Reader’s Digest of the day, containing a variety of articles reprinted from other journals as well as original material. It made me giggle, and reminded me again that some things, like life’s daily annoyances, never really change…

• Residing between a stone-cutter’s shop and an undertaker’s.
• Haggling with a surly hackney-coachman for sixpence, and a quarter-hour after he has driven off, recollecting that you have left a new umbrella in his coach.
• Drying a long letter by the fire, holding it negligently in one hand behind you whilst you are conversing with a friend in the room, turning around and perceiving it to be in flames.
• In sharply turning a corner, coming suddenly in contact with a chimney sweeper, who impresses your white waistcoat and light-colored breeches with very visible memorials of the encounter.
• Passing through a narrow passage and realizing it has just been freshly painted.
• Wishing to wake early to be in time for a morning coach, waking, and upon looking at your watch, discovering that you had not wound it up the night before.
• Making several memorandum knots in your handkerchief, and forgetting the important cause of every one of them.
• Dreaming that you have wings, and waking with a fit of the gout.
• Endeavoring to flirt outrageously under the table and pressing the wrong foot.
• Toasting a bit of cheese, and when it is more than half done, letting it fall into the ashes.
• In a hurry to send off a letter, dipping your finger into the ink instead of into the wafer stand.