Diddling
CONSIDERED AS ONE OF THE EXACT SCIENCES.Hey, diddle diddleThe cat and the fiddleSINCE the world began there have been two Jeremys. The one wrote aJeremiad about usury, and was called Jeremy Bentham. He has been muchadmired by Mr. John Neal, and was a great man in a small way. Theother gave name to the most important of the Exact Sciences, and wasa great man in a great way -- I may say, indeed, in the very greatestof ways.Diddling -- or the abstract idea conveyed by the verb to diddle -- issufficiently well understood. Yet the fact, the deed, the thingdiddling, is somewhat difficult to define. We may get, however, at atolerably distinct conception of the matter in hand, by defining- notthe thing, diddling, in itself -- but man, as an animal that diddles.Had Plato but hit upon this, he would have been spared the affront ofthe picked chicken.Very pertinently it was demanded of Plato, why a picked chicken,which was clearly "a biped without feathers," was not, according tohis own definition, a man? But I am not to be bothered by any similarquery. Man is an animal that diddles, and there is no animal thatdiddles but man. It will take an entire hen-coop of picked chickensto get over that.What constitutes the essence, the nare, the principle of diddling is,in fact, peculiar to the class of creatures that wear coats andpantaloons. A crow thieves; a fox cheats; a weasel outwits; a mandiddles. To diddle is his destiny. "Man was made to mourn," says thepoet. But not so: -- he was made to diddle. This is his aim -- hisobject- his end. And for this reason when a man's diddled we say he's"done."Diddling, rightly considered, is a compound, of which the ingredientsare minuteness, interest, perseverance, ingenuity, audacity,nonchalance, originality, impertinence, and grin.Minuteness: -- Your diddler is minute. His operations are upon asmall scale. His business is retail, for cash, or approved paper atsight. Should he ever be tempted into magnificent speculation, hethen, at once, loses his distinctive features, and becomes what weterm "financier." This latter word conveys the diddling idea in everyrespect except that of magnitude. A diddler may thus be regarded as abanker in petto -- a "financial operation," as a diddle atBrobdignag. The one is to the other, as Homer to "Flaccus" -- as aMastodon to a mouse -- as the tail of a comet to that of a pig.Interest: -- Your diddler is guided by self-interest. He scorns todiddle for the mere sake of the diddle. He has an object in view- hispocket -- and yours. He regards always the main chance. He looks toNumber One. You are Number Two, and must look to yourself.Perseverance: -- Your diddler perseveres. He is not readilydiscouraged. Should even the banks break, he cares nothing about it.He steadily pursues his end, andUt canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto. so he never lets go ofhis game.Ingenuity: -- Your diddler is ingenious. He has constructivenesslarge. He understands plot. He invents and circumvents. Were he notAlexander he would be Diogenes. Were he not a diddler, he would be amaker of patent rat-traps or an angler for trout.Audacity: -- Your diddler is audacious. -- He is a bold man. Hecarries the war into Africa. He conquers all by assault. He would notfear the daggers of Frey Herren. With a little more prudence DickTurpin would have made a good diddler; with a trifle less blarney,Daniel O'Connell; with a pound or two more brains Charles theTwelfth.Nonchalance: -- Your diddler is nonchalant. He is not at all nervous.He never had any nerves. He is never seduced into a flurry. He isnever put out -- unless put out of doors. He is cool -- cool as acucumber. He is calm -- "calm as a smile from Lady Bury." He is easy-easy as an old glove, or the damsels of ancient Baiae.Originality: -- Your diddler is original -- conscientiously so. Histhoughts are his own. He would scorn to employ those of another. Astale trick is his aversion. He would return a purse, I am sure, upondiscovering that he had obtained it by an unoriginal diddle.Impertinence. -- Your diddler is impertinent. He swaggers. He setshis arms a-kimbo. He thrusts. his hands in his trowsers' pockets. Hesneers in your face. He treads on your corns. He eats your dinner, hedrinks your wine, he borrows your money, he pulls your nose, he kicksyour poodle, and he kisses your wife.Grin: -- Your true diddler winds up all with a grin. But this nobodysees but himself. He grins when his daily work is done -- when hisallotted labors are accomplished -- at night in his own closet, andaltogether for his own private entertainment. He goes home. He lockshis door. He divests himself of his clothes. He puts out his candle.He gets into bed. He places his head upon the pillow. All this done,and your diddler grins. This is no hypothesis. It is a matter ofcourse. I reason a priori, and a diddle would be no diddle without agrin.The origin of the diddle is referrable to the infancy of the HumanRace. Perhaps the first diddler was Adam. At all events, we can tracethe science back to a very remote period of antiquity. The moderns,however, have brought it to a perfection never dreamed of by ourthick-headed progenitors. Without pausing to speak of the "old saws,"therefore, I shall content myself with a compendious account of someof the more "modern instances."A very good diddle is this. A housekeeper in want of a sofa, forinstance, is seen to go in and out of several cabinet warehouses. Atlength she arrives at one offering an excellent variety. She isaccosted, and invited to enter, by a polite and voluble individual atthe door. She finds a sofa well adapted to her views, and uponinquiring the price, is surprised and delighted to hear a sum namedat least twenty per cent. lower than her expectations. She hastens tomake the purchase, gets a bill and receipt, leaves her address, witha request that the article be sent home as speedily as possible, andretires amid a profusion of bows from the shopkeeper. The nightarrives and no sofa. A servant is sent to make inquiry about thedelay. The whole transaction is denied. No sofa has been sold -- nomoney received -- except by the diddler, who played shop-keeper forthe nonce.Our cabinet warehouses are left entirely unattended, and thus affordevery facility for a trick of this kind. Visiters enter, look atfurniture, and depart unheeded and unseen. Should any one wish topurchase, or to inquire the price of an article, a bell is at hand,and this is considered amply sufficient.Again, quite a respectable diddle is this. A well-dressed individualenters a shop, makes a purchase to the value of a dollar; finds, muchto his vexation, that he has left his pocket-book in another coatpocket; and so says to the shopkeeper-"My dear sir, never mind; just oblige me, will you, by sending thebundle home? But stay! I really believe that I have nothing less thana five dollar bill, even there. However, you can send four dollars inchange with the bundle, you know.""Very good, sir," replies the shop-keeper, who entertains, at once, alofty opinion of the high-mindedness of his customer. "I knowfellows," he says to himself, "who would just have put the goodsunder their arm, and walked off with a promise to call and pay thedollar as they came by in the afternoon."A boy is sent with the parcel and change. On the route, quiteaccidentally, he is met by the purchaser, who exclaims:"Ah! This is my bundle, I see -- I thought you had been home with it,long ago. Well, go on! My wife, Mrs. Trotter, will give you the fivedollars -- I left instructions with her to that effect. The changeyou might as well give to me -- I shall want some silver for the PostOffice. Very good! One, two, is this a good quarter?- three, four --quite right! Say to Mrs. Trotter that you met me, and be sure now anddo not loiter on the way."The boy doesn't loiter at all -- but he is a very long time ingetting back from his errand -- for no lady of the precise name ofMrs. Trotter is to be discovered. He consoles himself, however, thathe has not been such a fool as to leave the goods without the money,and re-entering his shop with a self-satisfied air, feels sensiblyhurt and indignant when his master asks him what has become of thechange.A very simple diddle, indeed, is this. The captain of a ship, whichis about to sail, is presented by an official looking person with anunusually moderate bill of city charges. Glad to get off so easily,and confused by a hundred duties pressing upon him all at once, hedischarges the claim forthwith. In about fifteen minutes, another andless reasonable bill is handed him by one who soon makes it evidentthat the first collector was a diddler, and the original collection adiddle.And here, too, is a somewhat similar thing. A steamboat is castingloose from the wharf. A traveller, portmanteau in hand, is discoveredrunning toward the wharf, at full speed. Suddenly, he makes a deadhalt, stoops, and picks up something from the ground in a veryagitated manner. It is a pocket-book, and -- "Has any gentleman losta pocketbook?" he cries. No one can say that he has exactly lost apocket-book; but a great excitement ensues, when the treasure troveis found to be of value. The boat, however, must not be detained."Time and tide wait for no man," says the captain."For God's sake, stay only a few minutes," says the finder of thebook -- "the true claimant will presently appear.""Can't wait!" replies the man in authority; "cast off there, d'yehear?""What am I to do?" asks the finder, in great tribulation. "I am aboutto leave the country for some years, and I cannot conscientiouslyretain this large amount in my possession. I beg your pardon, sir,"[here he addresses a gentleman on shore,] "but you have the air of anhonest man. Will you confer upon me the favor of taking charge ofthis pocket-book -- I know I can trust you -- and of advertising it?The notes, you see, amount to a very considerable sum. The ownerwill, no doubt, insist upon rewarding you for your trouble-"Me! -- no, you! -- it was you who found the book.""Well, if you must have it so -- I will take a small reward -- justto satisfy your scruples. Let me see -- why these notes are allhundreds- bless my soul! a hundred is too much to take -- fifty wouldbe quite enough, I am sure-"Cast off there!" says the captain."But then I have no change for a hundred, and upon the whole, you hadbetter-"Cast off there!" says the captain."Never mind!" cries the gentleman on shore, who has been examininghis own pocket-book for the last minute or so -- "never mind! I canfix it -- here is a fifty on the Bank of North America -- throw thebook."And the over-conscientious finder takes the fifty with markedreluctance, and throws the gentleman the book, as desired, while thesteamboat fumes and fizzes on her way. In about half an hour afterher departure, the "large amount" is seen to be a "counterfeitpresentment," and the whole thing a capital diddle.A bold diddle is this. A camp-meeting, or something similar, is to beheld at a certain spot which is accessible only by means of a freebridge. A diddler stations himself upon this bridge, respectfullyinforms all passers by of the new county law, which establishes atoll of one cent for foot passengers, two for horses and donkeys, andso forth, and so forth. Some grumble but all submit, and the diddlergoes home a wealthier man by some fifty or sixty dollars well earned.This taking a toll from a great crowd of people is an excessivelytroublesome thing.A neat diddle is this. A friend holds one of the diddler's promisesto pay, filled up and signed in due form, upon the ordinary blanksprinted in red ink. The diddler purchases one or two dozen of theseblanks, and every day dips one of them in his soup, makes his dogjump for it, and finally gives it to him as a bonne bouche. The notearriving at maturity, the diddler, with the diddler's dog, calls uponthe friend, and the promise to pay is made the topic of discussion.The friend produces it from his escritoire, and is in the act ofreaching it to the diddler, when up jumps the diddler's dog anddevours it forthwith. The diddler is not only surprised but vexed andincensed at the absurd behavior of his dog, and expresses his entirereadiness to cancel the obligation at any moment when the evidence ofthe obligation shall be forthcoming.A very mean diddle is this. A lady is insulted in the street by adiddler's accomplice. The diddler himself flies to her assistance,and, giving his friend a comfortable thrashing, insists uponattending the lady to her own door. He bows, with his hand upon hisheart, and most respectfully bids her adieu. She entreats him, as herdeliverer, to walk in and be introduced to her big brother and herpapa. With a sigh, he declines to do so. "Is there no way, then,sir," she murmurs, "in which I may be permitted to testify mygratitude?""Why, yes, madam, there is. Will you be kind enough to lend me acouple of shillings?"In the first excitement of the moment the lady decides upon faintingoutright. Upon second thought, however, she opens her purse-stringsand delivers the specie. Now this, I say, is a diddle minute -- forone entire moiety of the sum borrowed has to be paid to the gentlemanwho had the trouble of performing the insult, and who had then tostand still and be thrashed for performing it.Rather a small but still a scientific diddle is this. The diddlerapproaches the bar of a tavern, and demands a couple of twists oftobacco. These are handed to him, when, having slightly examinedthem, he says:"I don't much like this tobacco. Here, take it back, and give me aglass of brandy and water in its place." The brandy and water isfurnished and imbibed, and the diddler makes his way to the door. Butthe voice of the tavern-keeper arrests him."I believe, sir, you have forgotten to pay for your brandy andwater.""Pay for my brandy and water! -- didn't I give you the tobacco forthe brandy and water? What more would you have?""But, sir, if you please, I don't remember that you paid me for thetobacco.""What do you mean by that, you scoundrel? -- Didn't I give you backyour tobacco? Isn't that your tobacco lying there? Do you expect meto pay for what I did not take?""But, sir," says the publican, now rather at a loss what to say, "butsir-""But me no buts, sir," interrupts the diddler, apparently in veryhigh dudgeon, and slamming the door after him, as he makes hisescape. -- "But me no buts, sir, and none of your tricks upontravellers."Here again is a very clever diddle, of which the simplicity is notits least recommendation. A purse, or pocket-book, being really lost,the loser inserts in one of the daily papers of a large city a fullydescriptive advertisement.Whereupon our diddler copies the facts of this advertisement, with achange of heading, of general phraseology and address. The original,for instance, is long, and verbose, is headed "A Pocket-Book Lost!"and requires the treasure, when found, to be left at No. 1 TomStreet. The copy is brief, and being headed with "Lost" only,indicates No. 2 Dick, or No. 3 Harry Street, as the locality at whichthe owner may be seen. Moreover, it is inserted in at least five orsix of the daily papers of the day, while in point of time, it makesits appearance only a few hours after the original. Should it be readby the loser of the purse, he would hardly suspect it to have anyreference to his own misfortune. But, of course, the chances are fiveor six to one, that the finder will repair to the address given bythe diddler, rather than to that pointed out by the rightfulproprietor. The former pays the reward, pockets the treasure anddecamps.Quite an analogous diddle is this. A lady of ton has dropped, somewhere in the street, a diamond ring of very unusual value. For itsrecovery, she offers some forty or fifty dollars reward -- giving, inher advertisement, a very minute description of the gem, and of itssettings, and declaring that, on its restoration at No. so and so, insuch and such Avenue, the reward would be paid instanter, without asingle question being asked. During the lady's absence from home, aday or two afterwards, a ring is heard at the door of No. so and so,in such and such Avenue; a servant appears; the lady of the house isasked for and is declared to be out, at which astounding information,the visitor expresses the most poignant regret. His business is ofimportance and concerns the lady herself. In fact, he had the goodfortune to find her diamond ring. But perhaps it would be as wellthat he should call again. "By no means!" says the servant; and "Byno means!" says the lady's sister and the lady's sister-in-law, whoare summoned forthwith. The ring is clamorously identified, thereward is paid, and the finder nearly thrust out of doors. The ladyreturns and expresses some little dissatisfaction with her sister andsister-in-law, because they happen to have paid forty or fiftydollars for a fac-simile of her diamond ring -- a fac-simile made outof real pinch-beck and unquestionable paste.But as there is really no end to diddling, so there would be none tothis essay, were I even to hint at half the variations, orinflections, of which this science is susceptible. I must bring thispaper, perforce, to a conclusion, and this I cannot do better than bya summary notice of a very decent, but rather elaborate diddle, ofwhich our own city was made the theatre, not very long ago, and whichwas subsequently repeated with success, in other still more verdantlocalities of the Union. A middle-aged gentleman arrives in town fromparts unknown. He is remarkably precise, cautious, staid, anddeliberate in his demeanor. His dress is scrupulously neat, butplain, unostentatious. He wears a white cravat, an ample waistcoat,made with an eye to comfort alone; thick-soled cosy-looking shoes,and pantaloons without straps. He has the whole air, in fact, of yourwell-to-do, sober-sided, exact, and respectable "man of business,"Par excellence -- one of the stern and outwardly hard, internallysoft, sort of people that we see in the crack high comedies --fellows whose words are so many bonds, and who are noted for givingaway guineas, in charity, with the one hand, while, in the way ofmere bargain, they exact the uttermost fraction of a farthing withthe other.He makes much ado before he can get suited with a boarding house. Hedislikes children. He has been accustomed to quiet. His habits aremethodical -- and then he would prefer getting into a private andrespectable small family, piously inclined. Terms, however, are noobject -- only he must insist upon settling his bill on the first ofevery month, (it is now the second) and begs his landlady, when hefinally obtains one to his mind, not on any account to forget hisinstructions upon this point -- but to send in a bill, and receipt,precisely at ten o'clock, on the first day of every month, and underno circumstances to put it off to the second.These arrangements made, our man of business rents an office in areputable rather than a fashionable quarter of the town. There isnothing he more despises than pretense. "Where there is much show,"he says, "there is seldom any thing very solid behind" -- anobservation which so profoundly impresses his landlady's fancy, thatshe makes a pencil memorandum of it forthwith, in her great familyBible, on the broad margin of the Proverbs of Solomon.The next step is to advertise, after some such fashion as this, inthe principal business six-pennies of the city -- the pennies areeschewed as not "respectable" -- and as demanding payment for alladvertisements in advance. Our man of business holds it as a point ofhis faith that work should never be paid for until done."WANTED -- The advertisers, being about to commence extensivebusiness operations in this city, will require the services of threeor four intelligent and competent clerks, to whom a liberal salarywill be paid. The very best recommendations, not so much forcapacity, as for integrity, will be expected. Indeed, as the dutiesto be performed involve high responsibilities, and large amounts ofmoney must necessarily pass through the hands of those engaged, it isdeemed advisable to demand a deposit of fifty dollars from each clerkemployed. No person need apply, therefore, who is not prepared toleave this sum in the possession of the advertisers, and who cannotfurnish the most satisfactory testimonials of morality. Younggentlemen piously inclined will be preferred. Application should bemade between the hours of ten and eleven A. M., and four and five P.M., of Messrs."Bogs, Hogs Logs, Frogs & Co.,"No. 110 Dog Street"By the thirty-first day of the month, this advertisement has broughtto the office of Messrs. Bogs, Hogs, Logs, Frogs, and Company, somefifteen or twenty young gentlemen piously inclined. But our man ofbusiness is in no hurry to conclude a contract with any -- no man ofbusiness is ever precipitate -- and it is not until the most rigidcatechism in respect to the piety of each young gentleman'sinclination, that his services are engaged and his fifty dollarsreceipted for, just by way of proper precaution, on the part of therespectable firm of Bogs, Hogs, Logs, Frogs, and Company. On themorning of the first day of the next month, the landlady does notpresent her bill, according to promise -- a piece of neglect forwhich the comfortable head of the house ending in ogs would no doubthave chided her severely, could he have been prevailed upon to remainin town a day or two for that purpose.As it is, the constables have had a sad time of it, running hitherand thither, and all they can do is to declare the man of businessmost emphatically, a "hen knee high" -- by which some persons imaginethem to imply that, in fact, he is n. e. i. -- by which again thevery classical phrase non est inventus, is supposed to be understood.In the meantime the young gentlemen, one and all, are somewhat lesspiously inclined than before, while the landlady purchases ashilling's worth of the Indian rubber, and very carefully obliteratesthe pencil memorandum that some fool has made in her great familyBible, on the broad margin of the Proverbs of Solomon.
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