Wheeling Times And Advertiser

MISCELLANEOUS.

THE BUSINESS MAN.
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE.
[CONCLUDED]

Method is the soul of business.—Old Saying.

"Jan. 1—New Year's day. Met Snap in the street, groggy. I'll join—he'll do. Me: Gruff shortly afterwards. Blind drunk. He'll answer too. Enter both gentlemen into my Ledger, and opened a running account with each.

Jan. 2.—Saw Snap at the Exchange, and went up and trod on his toe. Doubled his fist, and knocked me down. Good!—got up again. Some trifling difficulty with Bag, my attorney. I want the damages at a thousand, but he says that, for so simple a knock down, he can't lay the damages at more than five hundred.

Jan. 3.—Went to the theatre, to look for Gruff. Saw him sitting in a side box, in the second tier, between a fat lady and a lean one. Quizzed the whole set through an opera glass, till I saw the fat lady blush and whisper to G.—Went round, then, into the box, and put my nose within reach of his hand. Wouldn't pull it—no go. Wiped it, and tried again—no go. Sat down then, and winked at the lean lady, when I had the high satisfaction of finding him lift me up by the nape of the neck, and fling me over into the pit. Neck dislocated, and right leg capitally splintered. Went home in high glee, drunk a bottle of champagne, and cooked the young man for five thousand. Bag says it'll do.

Feb. 15.—Commenced business with Mr. Snap. A judgment entered in Journal—fifty cents—which see.

Feb. 16.—Cast Lye that villain Gruff, who made me a present of five dollars. Costs of suit, four dollars and twenty-five cents. 'Net profit—see Journal—seventy-five cents. Now, here is a clear gain, in a very brief period, of no less than one dollar and twenty-five cents—this is in the mere cases of Snap and Gruff: and I solemnly assure the reader, that these extracts are taken at random from my Day-Book.

It's an old saying, and a true one, however, that money is nothing in comparison with health. I tried the extensions of the profession, so somewhat too much for my delicate state of body: and discovering, at last, that I was knocked out of all shape, so that I didn't know very well what to make of the matter, and my friends, when they met me in the street, couldn't tell that I was Peter Proffit at all, it occurred to me that the best expedient that I could adopt it Mud Dabbling, and continued it for some years.

The worst of this occupation, is, that too many people take a fancy to it, and the competition is, in consequence, excessive. Every ignoramus of a fellow who finds that he hasn't brains sufficient quantity to make his way as a walking advertiser, or an eye-sore prig, or as a salt and batter man, thinks, of course, that he'll answer very well as a dabbler of mud. But there never was entertained a more erroneous idea than that it requires no brains to mud dabble. Especially, there is nothing to be made in this way without method. I did only a retail business myself, but my old habits of system carried me swimmingly along. I selected my street crossing, in the first place, with great deliberation, and never put a broom in any part of the town but that. I took care, too, to have a nice little puddle at hand, which I could get at in a minute. By these means I got to be well known as a man to be trusted; and this is one half the battle, let me tell you, in trade. Nobody ever failed to pitch me a copper, and got over my crossing with a clean pair of pantaloons. And, as my business habits, in this respect, were sufficiently understood, I never met with any attempt at imposition. I wouldn't have put up with it, if I had. Never imposing upon any one myself, I suffered no one to play the possum with me. The frauds of the banks, I couldn't of course help. This suspension put me to ruinous inconvenience. These, however, are not individuals, but corporations, it is very well known, have neither bodies to be kicked, nor souls to be lost.

I was making money at this business, when, in an evil moment, I was induced to merge it in the Car Spattering—a somewhat analogous, but by no means so respectable a profession. My location, to be sure, was an excellent one, being central, and I had capital blacking and brushes. My little dog, too, was quite fat, and up to all varieties of snuff. He had been in the trade a long time, &, I may say, understood it. Our general routine was this: Pompey, having rolled himself well in mud, sat upon end at the shop door, until he observed a dandy approaching in bright boots. He then proceeded to meet him, and gave the Wellingtons a rub or two with his wool. Then the dandy swore very much, and looked about for a boot black. There I was, full in his view, with blacking and brushes. It was only a minute's work, and then came a sixpence. This did moderately well for a time—in fact, I was not avaricious, but my dog was. I allowed him a third of the profits, but he was advised to insist upon half.—This I couldn't stand—so we quarrelled and parted.

I next tried my hand at the Organ-Grinding. For a while, and may say I made out pretty well. It is a plain, straightforward business, and requires no particular abilities. You can get a music-mill for a mere song, and, to put it in order, you have but to open the works, and give them three or four smart raps with a hammer. It improves the tone of the thing, for business purposes, more than you can imagine. This done you have only to stroll along, with the mill on your back, until you see fit bark in the street, and a knocker wrapped up in buckskin. Then you stop and grind; looking as if you meant to stop and grind until doomsday. Presently a window opens, and somebody pitches you a sixpence, with a request to hush up and go on," &c. I am aware that some grinders have actually afford to "go on" for this sum; but for my part, I found my account in never going on under a shilling.

At this occupation I did a good deal, but, somehow, I was not quite satisfied. And so, finally, abandoned it. The truth is, I labored under the disadvantage of having no monkey—and streets are so muddy—and the populace are so impertinent with so many dirty little boys.

I was now out of employment for some months, but at length succeeded, by dint of great interest, in procuring a situation in the Sham-Post. The duties here, are simple, and not altogether unprofitable. For example—Very early in the morning I had to make up my packet of sham letters. Upon the inside of each of these: I had to scrawl a few lines—on any subject which occurred to me as sufficient, mysterious—signing at the epistles Tom Dobson, or Bobby Tompkins, or anything in that way. Having folded and sealed all, and stamped them with sham post marks—New Orleans, Baltimore, Botany Bay, or any other place a great way off—set out, forthwith, upon my daily route, as if in a very great hurry. I always called at the big houses to deliver the letters, and receive the postage: Nobody hesitates at paying for a letter—especially for a double one—people are such fools—and it was no trouble, on my part, to get round a corner before there was time to open the epistles.

The worst of this profession, was that I had to walk so much and so fast, and so frequently to vary my route. Besides, I had serious scruples of conscience. I can't bear to hear innocent individuals abused—and the way the whole town took to cursing Tom Dobson and Bobby Tompkins, was really awful to hear. I washed my hands of the matter in disgust.

My eighth and last speculation has been in the Cat-growing way. I have found this a most pleasant and lucrative business, and really, no trouble at all. The country, it is well known, has become infested with cats—so much so of late, that a petition for relief, most numerously and respectably signed, was brought before the legislature at its last memorable session. The assembly, at this epoch, was unusually well informed, and having passed every other wise and wholesome enactment, it crowned all with the Cat Act. In its original form this law offered a premium for cat heads, (fourpence a piece,) but the Senate succeeded in amending the main clause, so as to substitute the word tails. This amendment was so obviously proper, that the House concurred in it nem. con.

As soon as the Governor had signed the bill, I invested my whole estate in the purchase of cats and kittens. At first I could only afford to feed them upon mice, (which are cheap,) but I at length found it my best policy to give them mock-turtle. Their tails, at the legislature price, now bring me in a good income; for I have discovered a way, in which, by means of Macassar oil, I can force three crops in a year; and, somehow or other, the old cats get accustomed to the thing, and would rather have the appendages cut off than otherwise: I consider myself, therefore, a made man, and am bargaining for a country seat upon the Hudson."