"I have often noticed that almost every one has his own individual small economies ~ careful habits of saving fractions of pennies in some one peculiar direction--any disturbance of which annoys him more than spending shillings or pounds on some real extravagance. An old gentleman of my acquaintance, who took the intelligence of the failure of a Joint-Stock Bank, in which some of his money was invested, with stoical mildness, worried his family all through a long summer's day, because one of them had torn (instead of cutting) out the written leaves of his now useless bank-book;  of course, the corresponding pages at the other end came out as well; and this little unnecessary waster of paper (his private economy) chafed him more than all the loss of his money.  Envelopes fretted his soul terribly when they first came in;  the only way in which he could reconcile himself to such waste of his cherished article was by patiently turning inside out all that were sent to him, and so making them serve again.  Even now, though tamed by age, I see him casting wistful glances at his daughters when they send a whole instead of a half sheet of note-paper, with the three lines of acceptance to an invitation, written on only one of the sides..."

~ Elizabeth Gaskell, known as Mrs. Gaskell (1810 - 1865) English novelist. CRANFORD, Chatto & Windus Publishers, 1907.
[Photo miniature: Wikipedia.]

[Tomorrow: "String is my foible...Small pieces of butter grieve others."]