Chapter 33

The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many bricks, but found nothing amiss; so he put down some lime and charged the master five shillings, and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. But that was not all: standing as I did on a quantity of moist straw my feet grew unhealthy and tender, and the master used to say: “I don't know what is the matter with this horse; he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will stumble.” “Yes, sir,” said Alfred, “I have noticed the same myself, when I have exercised hi…