On being asked if it were he who had once rented the House to Let, Grizzled Velveteen looked surprised, and said yes.  Then his name was Magsman?  That was it, Toby Magsman—­which lawfully christened Robert; but called in the line, from a infant, Toby.  There was nothing agin Toby Magsman, he believed?  If there was suspicion of such—­mention it!

There was no suspicion of such, he might rest assured.  But, some inquiries were making about that House, and would he object to say why he left it?

Not at all; why should he?  He left it, along of a Dwarf.

Along of a Dwarf?

Mr. Magsman repeated, deliberately and emphatically, Along of a Dwarf.

Might it be compatible with Mr. Magsman’s inclination and convenience to enter, as a favour, into a few particulars?

Mr. Magsman entered into the following particulars.

It was a long time ago, to begin with;—­afore lotteries and a deal more was done away with.  Mr. Magsman was looking about for a good pitch, and he see that house, and he says to himself, “I’ll have you, if you’re to be had.  If money’ll get you, I’ll have you.”

The neighbours cut up rough, and made complaints; but Mr. Magsman don’t know what they would have had.  It was a lovely thing.  First of all, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Giant, in Spanish trunks and a ruff, who was himself half the heighth of the house, and was run up with a line and pulley to a pole on the roof, so that his Ed was coeval with the parapet.  Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Albina lady, showing her white air to the Army and Navy in correct uniform.  Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Wild Indian a scalpin a member of some foreign nation.  Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of a child of a British Planter, seized by two Boa Constrictors—­not that we never had no child, nor no Constrictors neither.  Similarly, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Wild Ass of the Prairies—­not that we never had no wild asses, nor wouldn’t have had ’em at a gift.  Last, there was the canvass, representin the picter 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.