and was then put on the ironing-board, when the hot iron was passed over him.
"Madam," said the collar, "little widow, I begin to feel quite warm. I feel a change coming over me; I am quite losing my head; you are burning a hole right through me! Ah! Will you be mine?"
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"Rag!" said the iron, and passed proudly over the collar. She imagined that she was a steam-engine going along the railway, dragging carriages after her.
"Rag!" she repeated.
The collar was a little frayed at the edges, and so the scissors were brought out to cut off the ragged ends.
"Oh," said the collar, "you are a première-danseuse, I presume. How you can stretch your legs! I have never seen anything so beautiful! No human being could do that."
"I know that!" said the scissors.
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"You deserve to be a countess," said the collar. "I am a gentleman, and all I possess is a boot-jack and a comb. If only I were a count!"
"Is that meant as a proposal?" said the scissors angrily, and gave the collar such a nasty cut that he was ruined forever.
"I must propose to the comb," said the collar. "It is really wonderful how well your teeth are preserved, my little lady. Have you never thought of getting engaged?"
"Yes, of course!" said the comb. "I am engaged to the boot-jack."
"Engaged!" exclaimed the collar. Now there was no one left to propose to, and so he looked with contempt upon courting and such like.
