and I
couldn't
help
thinking
as I
carried
him down
that it
was like
carrying a
large
bottle
full of
wine, with
a rayther
ugly
stopper, a
good deal
out of
proportion.
When I set
him on the
door-mat
in the
hall, he
kep me
close to
him by
holding on
to my
coat-collar,
and he
whispers:
"I ain't
'appy,
Magsman."
"What's on
your mind,
Mr.
Chops?"
"They
don't use
me well.
They an't
grateful
to me.
They puts
me on the
mantel-piece
when I
