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 uncommon 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