1850                                    DIDDLING                    Considered as One of the Exact Sciences                               by Edgar Allen PoeDIDDLING                       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 beenmuch admired 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 was agreat man in a great way- I may say, indeed, in the very greatest ofways.  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-not the thing, diddling, in itself- but man, as an animal thatdiddles. Had Plato but hit upon this, he would have been spared theaffront of the 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 anysimilar query. Man is an animal that diddles, and there is no animalthat diddles but man. It will take an entire hen-coop of pickedchickens to get over that.  What constitutes the essence, the nare, the principle of diddlingis, 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- his object-his end. And for this reason when a man's diddled we say he's "done."  Diddling, rightly considered, is a compound, of which theingredients are 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, atonce, loses his distinctive features, and becomes what we term"financier." This latter word conveys the diddling idea in everyrespect except that of magnitude. A diddler may thus be regarded asa banker in petto- a "financial operation," as a diddle at Brobdignag.The one is to the other, as Homer to "Flaccus"- as a Mastodon to amouse- 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-his pocket- and yours. He regards always the main chance. He looksto Number 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, and             Ut canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto. so he never lets go of his 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 wouldnot fear the daggers of Frey Herren. With a little more prudenceDick Turpin would have made a good diddler; with a trifle lessblarney, Daniel O'Connell; with a pound or two more brains Charles theTwelfth.  Nonchalance:- Your diddler is nonchalant. He is not at allnervous. He never had any nerves. He is never seduced into a flurry.He is never 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,upon discovering that he 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. Hesneers in your face. He treads on your corns. He eats your dinner,he drinks your wine, he borrows your money, he pulls your nose, hekicks your 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 cantrace the science back to a very remote period of antiquity. Themoderns, however, have brought it to a perfection never dreamed ofby our thick-headed progenitors. Without pausing to speak of the"old saws," therefore, I shall content myself with a compendiousaccount 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. Atlength she arrives at one offering an excellent variety. She isaccosted, and invited to enter, by a polite and voluble individualat the door. She finds a sofa well adapted to her views, and uponinquiring the price, is surprised and delighted to hear a sum named atleast twenty per cent. lower than her expectations. She hastens tomake the purchase, gets a bill and receipt, leaves her address, with arequest 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,much to 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 lessthan a five dollar bill, even there. However, you can send fourdollars in change with the bundle, you know."  "Very good, sir," replies the shop-keeper, who entertains, atonce, a lofty opinion of the high-mindedness of his customer. "Iknow fellows," he says to himself, "who would just have put thegoods under their arm, and walked off with a promise to call and paythe dollar 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 withit, long ago. Well, go on! My wife, Mrs. Trotter, will give you thefive dollars- I left instructions with her to that effect. Thechange you might as well give to me- I shall want some silver forthe Post Office. Very good! One, two, is this a good quarter?-three, four- quite right! Say to Mrs. Trotter that you met me, andbe sure now and do not loiter on 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.Trotter is to be discovered. He consoles himself, however, that he hasnot been such a fool as to leave the goods without the money, andre-entering his shop with a self-satisfied air, feels sensibly hurtand indignant when his master asks him what has become of the change.  A very simple diddle, indeed, is this. The captain of a ship,which is about to sail, is presented by an official looking personwith an unusually moderate bill of city charges. Glad to get off soeasily, and confused by a hundred duties pressing upon him all atonce, he discharges the claim forthwith. In about fifteen minutes,another and less reasonable bill is handed him by one who soon makesit evident that the first collector was a diddler, and the originalcollection a diddle.  And here, too, is a somewhat similar thing. A steamboat is castingloose from the wharf. A traveller, portmanteau in hand, isdiscovered running toward the wharf, at full speed. Suddenly, he makesa dead halt, stoops, and picks up something from the ground in avery agitated manner. It is a pocket-book, and- "Has any gentlemanlost a pocketbook?" he cries. No one can say that he has exactlylost a pocket-book; but a great excitement ensues, when the treasuretrove is found to be of value. The boat, however, must not bedetained.  "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 amabout to leave the country for some years, and I cannotconscientiously retain this large amount in my possession. I begyour pardon, sir," [here he addresses a gentleman on shore,] "butyou have the air of an honest man. Will you confer upon me the favorof taking charge of this pocket-book- I know I can trust you- and ofadvertising 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 all hundreds-bless my soul! a hundred is too much to take- fifty would be quiteenough, I am sure-  "Cast off there!" says the captain.  "But then I have no change for a hundred, and upon the whole, youhad better-  "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 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 "counterfeitpresentment," 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 afree bridge. 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.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'spromises to pay, filled up and signed in due form, upon the ordinaryblanks printed in red ink. The diddler purchases one or two dozen ofthese blanks, and every day dips one of them in his soup, makes hisdog jump for it, and finally gives it to him as a bonne bouche. Thenote arriving at maturity, the diddler, with the diddler's dog,calls upon the friend, and the promise to pay is made the topic ofdiscussion. The friend produces it from his escritoire, and is inthe act of reaching it to the diddler, when up jumps the diddler's dogand devours it forthwith. The diddler is not only surprised butvexed and incensed at the absurd behavior of his dog, and expresseshis entire readiness to cancel the obligation at any moment when theevidence of the 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 upon attendingthe lady to her own door. He bows, with his hand upon his heart, andmost 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 my gratitude?"  "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 thegentleman who had the trouble of performing the insult, and who hadthen to stand 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 examined them,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.But the 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 for thebrandy and water? What more would you have?"  "But, sir, if you please, I don't remember that you paid me forthe tobacco."  "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 me topay for what I did not take?"  "But, sir," says the publican, now rather at a loss what to say,"but sir-"  "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 reallylost, the loser inserts in one of the daily papers of a large city afully descriptive 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 Tom Street.The copy is brief, and being headed with "Lost" only, indicates No.2 Dick, or No. 3 Harry Street, as the locality at which the ownermay be seen. Moreover, it is inserted in at least five or six of thedaily papers of the day, while in point of time, it makes itsappearance only a few hours after the original. Should it be read bythe loser of the purse, he would hardly suspect it to have anyreference to his own misfortune. But, of course, the chances arefive or six to one, that the finder will repair to the address givenby the 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,in such 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 astoundinginformation, the visitor expresses the most poignant regret. Hisbusiness is of importance and concerns the lady herself. In fact, hehad the good fortune to find her diamond ring. But perhaps it would beas well that he should call again. "By no means!" says the servant;and "By no means!" says the lady's sister and the lady'ssister-in-law, who are summoned forthwith. The ring is clamorouslyidentified, the reward is paid, and the finder nearly thrust out ofdoors. The lady returns and expresses some little dissatisfaction withher sister and sister-in-law, because they happen to have paid fortyor fifty dollars for a fac-simile of her diamond ring- a fac-similemade 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, orinflections, of which this science is susceptible. I must bring thispaper, perforce, to a conclusion, and this I cannot do better thanby a summary notice of a very decent, but rather elaborate diddle,of which our own city was made the theatre, not very long ago, andwhich was subsequently repeated with success, in other still moreverdant localities of the Union. A middle-aged gentleman arrives intown from parts unknown. He is remarkably precise, cautious, staid,and deliberate 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, andpantaloons without straps. He has the whole air, in fact, of yourwell-to-do, sober-sided, exact, and respectable "man of business," Parexcellence- one of the stern and outwardly hard, internally soft, sortof people that we see in the crack high comedies- fellows whosewords are so many bonds, and who are noted for giving away guineas, incharity, with the one hand, while, in the way of mere bargain, theyexact the uttermost fraction of a farthing with 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 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," hesays, "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, 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 pointof his faith that work should 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, asfor integrity, 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 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 for whichthe comfortable head of the house ending in ogs would no doubt havechided her severely, could he have been prevailed upon to remain intown 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 the veryclassical phrase non est inventus, is supposed to be understood. Inthe 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 carefullyobliterates the pencil memorandum that some fool has made in her greatfamily Bible, on the broad margin of the Proverbs of Solomon.                              THE END.