9 8 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
the floor, acquiesced, and sent his wife for 
some neighbours. One of them was a pro- 
fessional furniture-remover, and, half-way 
up the narrow stairs, the unfortunate had to 
remind him that lie was dealing with a British 
working man, and not a piano. Four pairs 
of hands deposited Mr. Scutts with mathe- 
matical precision in the centre of the bed 
and then proceeded to tuck him in, while Mrs. 
Scutts drew the sheet in a straight line under 
his chin. 
“ Don’t look much the matter with ’im,” 
said one of the assistants. 
“ You can’t tell with a face like that,” 
said the furniture - remover. “It’s wot 
you might call a ’appy face. Why, he 
was ’arf smiling as we carried ’im up the 
stairs ” 
