I did not reply to their absurd proposition, of course; but I
      felt it a duty to go that same night, and lamp-black the whole of
      their palace. For this the unreasonable villains clapped me into
      jail; and the gentlemen of the Eye-Sore trade could not well
      avoid cutting my connection when I came out. The Assault-and-Battery business, into which I was now forced to
      adventure for a livelihood, was somewhat ill-adapted to the
      delicate nature of my constitution; but I went to work in it with
      a good heart, and found my account here, as heretofore, in those
      stern habits of methodical accuracy which had been thumped into
      me by that delightful old nurse—I would indeed be the basest of
      men not to remember her well in my will. By observing, as I say,
      the strictest system in all my dealings, and keeping a
      well-regulated set of books, I was enabled to get over many
      serious difficulties, and, in the end, to establish myself very
      decently in the profession. The truth is, that few individuals,
      in any line, did a snugger little business than I. I will just
      copy a page or so out of my Day-Book; and this will save me the
      necessity of blowing my own trumpet—a contemptible practice of
      which no high-minded man will be guilty. Now, the Day-Book is a
      thing that don’t lie. “Jan. 1.—New Year’s Day. Met Snap in the street, groggy. Mem—he’ll do. Met Gruff shortly afterward, blind drunk. Mem—he’ll
      answer, too. Entered both gentlemen in 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 we can’t lay them at more than five hundred. Mem—must get
      rid of Bag—no system at all. “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 party 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. Blew 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, drank a bottle of champagne,
      and booked the young man for five thousand. Bag says it’ll do. “Feb. 15.—Compromised the case of Mr. Snap. Amount entered in
      Journal—fifty cents—which see. “Feb. 16.—Cast by that ruffian, Gruff, who made me a present of
      five dollars. Costs of suit, four dollars and twenty-five cents. Nett 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 found the exactions of the
      profession somewhat too much for my delicate state of body; and,
      discovering, at last, that I was knocked all out of shape, so
      that I didn’t know very well what to make of the matter, and so
      that 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 I could adopt was to alter my line of business. I
      turned my attention, therefore, to 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 in
      sufficient quantity to make his way as a walking advertiser, or
      an eye-sore prig, or 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 I never put down 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 of
      course I couldn’t help. Their suspension put me to ruinous
      inconvenience. These, however, are not individuals, but
      corporations; and corporations, it is very well known, have
      neither bodies to be kicked nor souls to be damned. I was making money at this business when, in an evil moment, I
      was induced to merge it in the Cur-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, and, I may say, understood it. Our general routine was
      this:—Pompey, having rolled himself well in the 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
      profit, 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 that I made out pretty well. It is a plain, straightforward
      business, and requires no particular abilities.