Besides, Moggs has a great respect for himself--much more, probably, than he has for other people, being the respecter of a person, rather than of persons, and that person being himself. Moggs, therefore, disdains the kindling of fires, splitting wood, and all that, especially of frosty mornings--and eschews the putting on of kettles--well knowing that if an individual is in the way when the aid of an individual is required, there is likely to be a requisition on the individual's services. Montezuma Moggs understood how to "skulk;" and we all comprehend the fact that to "skulk" judiciously is a fine political feature, saving much of wear and tear to the body corporate.
"Mend boots--mind shop--tend baby!--can't be," repeated Moggs, draining the last drop from his cup--"boots, shops and babies must mend, mind and tend themselves--I'm going to do something better than that;" and so Moggs rose leisurely, took his hat, and departed, to stroll the streets, to talk at the corners, and to read the bulletin-boards at the newspaper offices, which, as Moggs often remarks, not only encourages literature, but is also one of the cheapest of all amusements--vastly more agreeable than if you paid for it.
It was a little shop, in one of the poorer sections of the city, where Montezuma Moggs resided with his family--Mrs. Moggs and five juveniles of that name and race--a shop of the miscellaneous order, in which was offered for sale a little, but a very little, of any thing, and every thing--one of those distressed looking shops which bring a sensation of dreariness over the mind, and which cause a sinking of the heart before you have time to ask why you are saddened--a frail and feeble barrier it seems against penury and famine, to yield at the first approach of the gaunt enemy--a shop that has no aspect of business about it, but compels you to think of distraining for rent, of broken hearts, of sickness, suffering and death.
It was a shop, moreover--we have all seen the like--with a bell to it, which rings out an announcement as we open the door, that, few and far between, there has been an arrival in the way of a customer, though it may be, as sometimes happens, that the bell, with all its untuned sharpness, fails to triumph over the din of domestic affairs in the little back-room, which serves for parlor, and kitchen, and hall, and proves unavailing to spread the news against the turbulent clamor of noisy children and a vociferous wife.