Going into Society | Page 4

of the Dwarf, and like him too
(considerin), with George the Fourth in such a state of astonishment at
him as His Majesty couldn't with his utmost politeness and stoutness
express. The front of the House was so covered with canvasses, that
there wasn't a spark of daylight ever visible on that side.
"MAGSMAN'S AMUSEMENTS," fifteen foot long by two foot high,
ran over the front door and parlour winders. The passage was a Arbour
of green baize and gardenstuff. A barrel-organ performed there
unceasing. And as to respectability,--if threepence ain't respectable,
what is?
But, the Dwarf is the principal article at present, and he was worth the
money. He was wrote up as MAJOR TPSCHOFFKI, OF THE
IMPERIAL BULGRADERIAN BRIGADE. Nobody couldn't
pronounce the name, and it never was intended anybody should. The
public always turned it, as a regular rule, into Chopski. In the line he
was called Chops; partly on that account, and partly because his real
name, if he ever had any real name (which was very dubious), was

Stakes.
He was a un-common small man, he really was. Certainly not so small
as he was made out to be, but where IS your Dwarf as is? He was a
most uncommon small man, with a most uncommon large Ed; and what
he had inside that Ed, nobody ever knowed but himself: even supposin
himself to have ever took stock of it, which it would have been a stiff
job for even him to do.
The kindest little man as never growed! Spirited, but not proud. When
he travelled with the Spotted Baby--though he knowed himself to be a
nat'ral Dwarf, and knowed the Baby's spots to be put upon him artificial,
he nursed that Baby like a mother. You never heerd him give a ill-name
to a Giant. He DID allow himself to break out into strong language
respectin the Fat Lady from Norfolk; but that was an affair of the 'art;
and when a man's 'art has been trifled with by a lady, and the
preference giv to a Indian, he ain't master of his actions.
He was always in love, of course; every human nat'ral phenomenon is.
And he was always in love with a large woman; I never knowed the
Dwarf as could be got to love a small one. Which helps to keep 'em the
Curiosities they are.
One sing'ler idea he had in that Ed of his, which must have meant
something, or it wouldn't have been there. It was always his opinion
that he was entitled to property. He never would put his name to
anything. He had been taught to write, by the young man without arms,
who got his living with his toes (quite a writing master HE was, and
taught scores in the line), but Chops would have starved to death, afore
he'd have gained a bit of bread by putting his hand to a paper. This is
the more curious to bear in mind, because HE had no property, nor
hope of property, except his house and a sarser. When I say his house, I
mean the box, painted and got up outside like a reg'lar six-roomer, that
he used to creep into, with a diamond ring (or quite as good to look at)
on his forefinger, and ring a little bell out of what the Public believed to
be the Drawing-room winder. And when I say a sarser, I mean a
Chaney sarser in which he made a collection for himself at the end of
every Entertainment. His cue for that, he took from me: "Ladies and

gentlemen, the little man will now walk three times round the Cairawan,
and retire behind the curtain." When he said anything important, in
private life, he mostly wound it up with this form of words, and they
was generally the last thing he said to me at night afore he went to bed.
He had what I consider a fine mind--a poetic mind. His ideas respectin
his property never come upon him so strong as when he sat upon a
barrel-organ and had the handle turned. Arter the wibration had run
through him a little time, he would screech out, "Toby, I feel my
property coming--grind away! I'm counting my guineas by thousands,
Toby--grind away! Toby, I shall be a man of fortun! I feel the Mint a
jingling in me, Toby, and I'm swelling out into the Bank of England!"
Such is the influence of music on a poetic mind. Not that he was partial
to any other music but a barrel-organ; on the contrary, hated it.
He had a kind of a everlasting grudge agin the Public: which is a thing
you may notice in many phenomenons that get their living out of it.
What riled him