I had placed it carefully between the folds of one of the sacrificed
letters.

Misery and destruction, said I, that draft has caused my rapid fire! it is
gone and forever! Fool that I was; why did I not "blow up" the servants
for paper, wood, and coals, and be "done for properly" instead of thus
"doing for myself." Ye alchymistical spirits, said I, invoking the dark
drapery, aid me to extract my gold from yonder ashes! but they were deaf
to my calls, and the old _caput mortum_ seemed to grin in mockery. I could
bear it no longer, and rushing from the sanctum, met the servant girl on
the stairs. "A draft! a draft!" repeated I; she thought me mad; I was mad
with vexation. "Sir," said she, "you will catch cold if there is a draught
such a day as this." A cold day as this, you wretch, Eliza, why did you
not bring my coals to the door this morning, then I could have had my fire
without a draft; I want a ten guinea draft, not a foggy, frosty draught.
The girl stood amazed, but replied, "Please, sir, I didn't bring the coals
this morning because you said never to do so on a Sunday, sir." "Sunday,"
I exclaimed, "is this Sunday?" "Lord bless me, sir, yes, and new year's
day too, sir; happy new year, sir," said the provoking little wench, who
was now joined by another. I could stand it no longer, but slunk back into
the sanctum, "like a burnt child that dreaded the fire," hearing them
exclaim, "I thought how it would be, them odd things in his room has quite
turned his brain, poor young gentleman, he did not even know it was Sunday,
and new year's day neither."

I really did not know it was Sunday, for my calculaters were destroyed by
the circumstance of our having kept Christmas Day on the Monday. I was
aware that it was new year's day, and had intended to begin 1832 with good
works, instead of which I commenced it with destroying my property, thus
literally "doing for myself," and unlike most other people who invariably