Let one of the maids try?
No.

Don't believe in 'em.' Having thus relieved his spleen the old gentleman addressed himself to further efforts and waxed hotter.

He managed to tilt the trunk over, and thus gained a length, and by this method of progression arrived at the foot of the stairs, where he halted, and wiped his face, blowing lustily.
Mrs.Mel had been watching him with calm scorn all the while.

She saw him attempt most ridiculously to impel the trunk upwards by a similar process, and thought it time to interfere.
'Don't you see you must either take it on your shoulders, or have a help ?' The old gentleman sprang up from his peculiarly tight posture to blaze round at her.

He had the words well-peppered on his mouth, but somehow he stopped, and was subsequently content to growl: 'Where 's the help in a parcel of petticoats ?' Mrs.Mel did not consider it necessary to give him an answer.