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 most in the nater of his occupation was, that it kep him out of
Society. He was continiwally saying, "Toby, my ambition is, to go into
Society. The curse of my position towards the Public is, that it keeps
me hout of Society. This don't signify to a low beast of a Indian; he
an't formed for Society. This don't signify to a Spotted Baby; _he_ an't
formed for Society.--I am."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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