In the morning to the office and Commissioner Pett (who seldom comes there) told me that he had lately presented a piece of plate (being a couple of flaggons) to Mr. Coventry, but he did not receive them, which also put me upon doing the same too; and so after dinner I went and chose a payre of candlesticks to be made ready for me at Alderman Backwell’s. To the office again in the afternoon till night, and so home, and with the painters till 10 at night, making an end of my house and the arch before my door, and so this night I was rid of them and all other work, and my house was made ready against to-morrow being Christmas day. This day the Princess Royal died at Whitehall.
Morning is a present
I did not receive.
I chose a pair
of candlesticks, made
a well in the night,
and so was rid
of another Christmas.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 24 December 1660.
Bah (ha!) humbug