very thing I wanted. (He always has. I am very lucky in this respect.) It was the quaintest and most old-fashioned clock he had come across for a long while, and he enclosed photograph and full particulars; should he send it up?
From the photograph and the particulars, it seemed, as he said, the very thing, and I told him, "Yes; send it up at once."
Three days afterward, there came a knock at the door,—there had been other knocks at the door before this, of course; but I am dealing merely with the history of the clock. The girl said a couple of men were outside, and wanted to see me, and I went to them.
I found they were Pickford's carriers, and, glancing at the way-bill, I saw that it was my clock that they had brought, and I said, airily, "Oh, yes, it's quite right; bring it up!"
They said they were very sorry, but that was just the difficulty. They could not get it up.
I went down with them, and, wedged securely across the second landing of the staircase, I found a box, which I should have judged to be the original case in which Cleopatra's Needle came over.
They said that was my clock.
I brought down a chopper and a crowbar, and we sent out and collected in two extra hired ruffians, and the five of us worked away for half an hour, and got the clock out; after which the traffic up and down the staircase was resumed, much to the satisfaction of the other tenants.
We then got the clock upstairs and put it together, and I fixed it in the corner of the dining-room.
At first it exhibited a strong desire to topple over and fall on people, but by the liberal use of nails and screws
