ten o'clock
This diary-keeping is a very foolish habit , after all . Why do I keep this record of a most commonplace existence ? For my own edification and improvement ? Scarcely , since I very rarely read these uninteresting entries ; and I very much doubt if posterity will care to know that I went to the office at ten o'clock on Wednesday morning ; that I could n't get a seat in the omnibus , and was compelled to take a Hansom , which cost me two shillings ; that I dined _ tête-à-tête _ with my mother , and finished the third volume of Carlyle 's ` French Revolution ' in the course of the evening . _ Is _ there any use in such a journal as mine ? Will the celebrated New Zealander , that is to be , discover the volumes amidst the ruins of Clapham ? and shall I be quoted as the Pepys of the nineteenth century ?