i62 OCCASIONAL HAPPY THOUGHIS. 



Murgle always enters a room cautiously, and being innately 

 polite, invariably acknowledges a stranger with a sort of 

 encouraging nod before addressing me. Being also naturally 

 suspicious, he coughs slightly behind his hand, glances from 

 me to my visitor, and from my visitor to me, as though 

 doubtful of my visitor's good faith, and as if uncertain 

 whether he shall say what he has to say out loud now, or 

 ask me to step outside on to the rug. His usual formula 



''Ahem!" — pause — then, bashfully, with one eye on the 

 visitor looking at him towards me, " Could I speak to you a 

 minute, Sir?" 



" Yes," I answer boldly. " What is it ? " 



" Ahem ! " — pause — a shuffle, then still bashfully, as though 

 afraid lest what he has to say might bring a blush to my 

 friend's cheek, " Mr. Chalvey is at the door, Sir, with a 'orse 

 as he wants you to look at." 



Good. I'd rather look at him without Cazell, but it can't 

 be helped. 



We follow Murgle. 



