The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4

by Edgar Allan Poe

  DIDDLING

  CONSIDERED AS ONE OF THE EXACT SCIENCES.

  Hey, diddle diddle The cat and the fiddle

  SINCE 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. The othergave name to the most important of the Exact Sciences, and was a greatman in a great way--I may say, indeed, in the very greatest of 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. HadPlato but hit upon this, he would have been spared the affront of thepicked chicken.

  Very pertinently it was demanded of Plato, why a picked chicken, whichwas clearly "a biped without feathers," was not, according to his owndefinition, a man? But I am not to be bothered by any similar query. Manis an animal that diddles, and there is no animal that diddles but man.It will take an entire hen-coop of picked chickens to get over that.

  What constitutes the essence, the nare, the principle of diddling is, infact, peculiar to the class of creatures that wear coats and pantaloons.A crow thieves; a fox cheats; a weasel outwits; a man diddles. To diddleis his destiny. "Man was made to mourn," says the poet. But not so:--hewas made to diddle. This is his aim--his object--his end. And for thisreason 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 a smallscale. His business is retail, for cash, or approved paper at sight.Should he ever be tempted into magnificent speculation, he then,at once, loses his distinctive features, and becomes what we term"financier." This latter word conveys the diddling idea in every respectexcept that of magnitude. A diddler may thus be regarded as a banker inpetto--a "financial operation," as a diddle at Brobdignag. The one is tothe other, as Homer to "Flaccus"--as a Mastodon to a mouse--as the tailof 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 to NumberOne. You are Number Two, and must look to yourself.

  Perseverance:--Your diddler perseveres. He is not readily discouraged.Should even the banks break, he cares nothing about it. He steadilypursues his end, and 'Ut canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto,'so he never lets go of his game.

  Ingenuity:--Your diddler is ingenious. He has constructiveness large. Heunderstands plot. He invents and circumvents. Were he not Alexander hewould be Diogenes. Were he not a diddler, he would be a maker of patentrat-traps or an angler for trout.

  Audacity:--Your diddler is audacious.--He is a bold man. He carriesthe war into Africa. He conquers all by assault. He would not fear thedaggers of Frey Herren. With a little more prudence Dick Turpin wouldhave made a good diddler; with a trifle less blarney, Daniel O'Connell;with a pound or two more brains Charles the Twelfth.

  Nonchalance:--Your diddler is nonchalant. He is not at all nervous. Henever had any nerves. He is never seduced into a flurry. He is neverput out--unless put out of doors. He is cool--cool as a cucumber. Heis calm--"calm as a smile from Lady Bury." He is easy--easy as an oldglove, or the damsels of ancient Baiae.

  Originality:--Your diddler is original--conscientiously so. His thoughtsare his own. He would scorn to employ those of another. A stale trick ishis aversion. He would return a purse, I am sure, upon discovering thathe had obtained it by an unoriginal diddle.

  Impertinence.--Your diddler is impertinent. He swaggers. He sets hisarms a-kimbo. He thrusts his hands in his trowsers' pockets. He sneersin your face. He treads on your corns. He eats your dinner, he drinksyour wine, he borrows your money, he pulls your nose, he kicks yourpoodle, and he kisses your wife.

  Grin:--Your true diddler winds up all with a grin. But this nobody seesbut himself. He grins when his daily work is done--when his allottedlabors are accomplished--at night in his own closet, and altogetherfor his own private entertainment. He goes home. He locks his door. Hedivests himself of his clothes. He puts out his candle. He gets intobed. He places his head upon the pillow. All this done, and your diddlergrins. This is no hypothesis. It is a matter of course. I reason apriori, and a diddle would be no diddle without a grin.

  The origin of the diddle is referrable to the infancy of the Human Race.Perhaps the first diddler was Adam. At all events, we can trace thescience back to a very remote period of antiquity. The moderns, however,have brought it to a perfection never dreamed of by our thick-headedprogenitors. Without pausing to speak of the "old saws," therefore,I shall content myself with a compendious account of some of 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.At length 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 upon inquiringthe price, is surprised and delighted to hear a sum named at leasttwenty per cent. lower than her expectations. She hastens to make thepurchase, gets a bill and receipt, leaves her address, with a requestthat the article be sent home as speedily as possible, and retires amida profusion of bows from the shopkeeper. The night arrives and no sofa.A servant is sent to make inquiry about the delay. The whole transactionis denied. No sofa has been sold--no money received--except by thediddler, who played shop-keeper for the 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, andthis 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, much tohis vexation, that he has left his pocket-book in another coat pocket;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 know fellows,"he says to himself, "who would just have put the goods under their arm,and walked off with a promise to call and pay the dollar as they came byin 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 change youmight as well give to me--I shall want some silver for the Post Office.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 and do not loiteron the way."

  The boy doesn't loiter at all--but he is a very long time in gettingback from his errand--for no lady of the precise name of Mrs. Trotteris to be discovered. He consoles himself, however, that he has not beensuch a fool as to leave the goods without the money, and re-entering hisshop with a self-satisfied air, feels sensibly hurt and indignant whenhis master asks him what has become of the change.

  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, hedischar
ges the claim forthwith. In about fifteen minutes, another andless reasonable bill is handed him by one who soon makes it evident thatthe first collector was a diddler, and the original collection a diddle.

  And here, too, is a somewhat similar thing. A steamboat is casting loosefrom the wharf. A traveller, portmanteau in hand, is discovered runningtoward the wharf, at full speed. Suddenly, he makes a dead halt, stoops,and picks up something from the ground in a very agitated manner. It isa pocket-book, and--"Has any gentleman lost a pocketbook?" he cries.No one can say that he has exactly lost a pocket-book; but a greatexcitement ensues, when the treasure trove is found to be of value. Theboat, 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'ye hear?"

  "What am I to do?" asks the finder, in great tribulation. "I am aboutto leave the country for some years, and I cannot conscientiously retainthis large amount in my possession. I beg your pardon, sir," [here headdresses a gentleman on shore,] "but you have the air of an honestman. Will you confer upon me the favor of taking charge of thispocket-book--I know I can trust you--and of advertising it? The notes,you see, amount to a very considerable sum. The owner will, 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--just tosatisfy 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 can fixit--here is a fifty on the Bank of North America--throw the book."

  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 after herdeparture, the "large amount" is seen to be a "counterfeit presentment,"and the whole thing a capital diddle.

  A bold diddle is this. A camp-meeting, or something similar, is tobe held 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 a tollof one cent for foot passengers, two for horses and donkeys, and soforth, and so forth. Some grumble but all submit, and the diddler goeshome a wealthier man by some fifty or sixty dollars well earned. Thistaking a toll from a great crowd of people is an excessively troublesomething.

  A neat diddle is this. A friend holds one of the diddler's promises topay, filled up and signed in due form, upon the ordinary blanks printedin red ink. The diddler purchases one or two dozen of these blanks, andevery day dips one of them in his soup, makes his dog jump for it,and finally gives it to him as a bonne bouche. The note arriving atmaturity, the diddler, with the diddler's dog, calls upon the friend,and the promise to pay is made the topic of discussion. The friendproduces it from his escritoire, and is in the act of reaching it to thediddler, when up jumps the diddler's dog and devours it forthwith.The diddler is not only surprised but vexed and incensed at the absurdbehavior of his dog, and expresses his entire readiness to cancel theobligation at any moment when the evidence of the obligation shall beforthcoming.

  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 upon attending thelady to her own door. He bows, with his hand upon his heart, and mostrespectfully bids her adieu. She entreats him, as her deliverer, to walkin and be introduced to her big brother and her papa. With a sigh, hedeclines to do so. "Is there no way, then, sir," she murmurs, "in whichI may be permitted to testify my gratitude?"

  "Why, yes, madam, there is. Will you be kind enough to lend me a coupleof shillings?"

  In the first excitement of the moment the lady decides upon faintingoutright. Upon second thought, however, she opens her purse-strings anddelivers the specie. Now this, I say, is a diddle minute--for one entiremoiety of the sum borrowed has to be paid to the gentleman who had thetrouble of performing the insult, and who had then to stand still and bethrashed 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 examined them,he says:

  "I don't much like this tobacco. Here, take it back, and give me a glassof brandy and water in its place." The brandy and water is furnished andimbibed, and the diddler makes his way to the door. But the voice of thetavern-keeper arrests him.

  "I believe, sir, you have forgotten to pay for your brandy and water."

  "Pay for my brandy and water!--didn't I give you the tobacco for thebrandy 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 back yourtobacco? Isn't that your tobacco lying there? Do you expect me to payfor 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 very highdudgeon, and slamming the door after him, as he makes his escape.--"Butme no buts, sir, and none of your tricks upon travellers."

  Here again is a very clever diddle, of which the simplicity is not itsleast 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!" andrequires the treasure, when found, to be left at No. 1 Tom Street. Thecopy is brief, and being headed with "Lost" only, indicates No. 2 Dick,or No. 3 Harry Street, as the locality at which the owner may be seen.Moreover, it is inserted in at least five or six of the daily papersof the day, while in point of time, it makes its appearance only a fewhours after the original. Should it be read by the loser of the purse,he would hardly suspect it to have any reference to his own misfortune.But, of course, the chances are five or six to one, that the finder willrepair to the address given by the diddler, rather than to that pointedout by the rightful proprietor. The former pays the reward, pockets thetreasure and decamps.

  Quite an analogous diddle is this. A lady of ton has dropped, some wherein the street, a diamond ring of very unusual value. For its recovery,she offers some forty or fifty dollars reward--giving, in heradvertisement, 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, a dayor two afterwards, a ring is heard at the door of No. so and so, in suchand such Avenue; a servant appears; the lady of the house is asked forand is declared to be out, at which astounding information, the visitorexpresses the most poignant regret. His business is of importance andconcerns the lady herself. In fact, he had the good fortune to find herdiamond ring. But perhaps it would be as well that he should call again."By no means!" says the servant; and "By no means!" says the lady'ssister and the lady's sister-in-law, who are summoned forthwith. Thering is clamorously identified, the reward is paid, and the findernearly thrust out of doors. The lady returns and expresses some littledissatisfaction with her sister and sister-in-law, because they happento have paid forty or fifty dollars for a fac-simile of her diamondring--a fac-simile made out
of 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, or inflections,of which this science is susceptible. I must bring this paper, perforce,to a conclusion, and this I cannot do better than by a summary noticeof a very decent, but rather elaborate diddle, of which our own city wasmade the theatre, not very long ago, and which was subsequently repeatedwith success, in other still more verdant localities of the Union.A middle-aged gentleman arrives in town from parts unknown. He isremarkably precise, cautious, staid, and deliberate in his demeanor. Hisdress is scrupulously neat, but plain, unostentatious. He wears awhite cravat, an ample waistcoat, made with an eye to comfort alone;thick-soled cosy-looking shoes, and pantaloons without straps. He hasthe whole air, in fact, of your well-to-do, sober-sided, exact, andrespectable "man of business," Par excellence--one of the stern andoutwardly hard, internally soft, sort of people that we see in the crackhigh comedies--fellows whose words are so many bonds, and who are notedfor giving away guineas, in charity, with the one hand, while, in theway of mere bargain, they exact the uttermost fraction of a farthingwith the 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 of everymonth, (it is now the second) and begs his landlady, when he finallyobtains one to his mind, not on any account to forget his instructionsupon this point--but to send in a bill, and receipt, precisely at teno'clock, on the first day of every month, and under no circumstances toput 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"--an observationwhich so profoundly impresses his landlady's fancy, that she makes apencil memorandum of it forthwith, in her great family Bible, on thebroad margin of the Proverbs of Solomon.

  The next step is to advertise, after some such fashion as this, in theprincipal business six-pennies of the city--the pennies are eschewed asnot "respectable"--and as demanding payment for all advertisements inadvance. Our man of business holds it as a point of his faith that workshould never be paid for until done.

  "WANTED--The advertisers, being about to commence extensive businessoperations in this city, will require the services of three or fourintelligent and competent clerks, to whom a liberal salary will bepaid. The very best recommendations, not so much for capacity, as forintegrity, will be expected. Indeed, as the duties to be performedinvolve high responsibilities, and large amounts of money mustnecessarily pass through the hands of those engaged, it is deemedadvisable to demand a deposit of fifty dollars from each clerk employed.No person need apply, therefore, who is not prepared to leave this sumin the possession of the advertisers, and who cannot furnish the mostsatisfactory testimonials of morality. Young gentlemen piously inclinedwill be preferred. Application should be made between the hours of tenand 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 brought tothe office of Messrs. Bogs, Hogs, Logs, Frogs, and Company, some fifteenor twenty young gentlemen piously inclined. But our man of business isin no hurry to conclude a contract with any--no man of business is everprecipitate--and it is not until the most rigid catechism in respect tothe piety of each young gentleman's inclination, that his servicesare engaged and his fifty dollars receipted for, just by way of properprecaution, on the part of the respectable firm of Bogs, Hogs, Logs,Frogs, and Company. On the morning of the first day of the next month,the landlady does not present her bill, according to promise--a piece ofneglect for which the comfortable head of the house ending in ogs wouldno doubt have chided her severely, could he have been prevailed upon toremain in town a day or two for that purpose.

  As it is, the constables have had a sad time of it, running hither andthither, and all they can do is to declare the man of business mostemphatically, a "hen knee high"--by which some persons imagine them toimply that, in fact, he is n. e. i.--by which again the very classicalphrase non est inventus, is supposed to be understood. In the meantimethe young gentlemen, one and all, are somewhat less piously inclinedthan before, while the landlady purchases a shilling's worth of theIndian rubber, and very carefully obliterates the pencil memorandum thatsome fool has made in her great family Bible, on the broad margin of theProverbs of Solomon.