well-known bootmakers of Old Bond Street; and the boots
they had made for Ralph Newton had been infinite in number, as they
had also, no doubt, been excellent in make and leather. But Booby and
Moggs had of late wanted money, had written many letters, and for
four months had not seen the face of their customer. When a gentleman
is driven by his indebtedness to go to another tradesman, it is, so
to say, "all up with him" in the way of credit. There is nothing the
tradesman dislikes so much as this, as he fears that the rival is
going to get the ready money after he has given the credit. And yet
what is a gentleman to do when his demand for further goods at the
old shop is met by a request for a little ready money? We know what
Ralph Newton did at the establishment in Conduit Street. But then Mr.
Neefit was a very peculiar man.

Cox had just lighted his cigar, and Fooks was filling his pipe when
Ontario Moggs entered the room. This rival in the regards of Polly
Neefit was not at that time personally known to Ralph Newton; but
the name, as mentioned by his servant, was painfully familiar to him.
"Oh, Mr. Moggs,--ah;--it's your father, I suppose, that I know. Sit
down, Mr. Moggs;--will you have a cup of tea;--or perhaps a glass of
brandy? Take a cigar, Mr. Moggs." But Moggs declined all refreshment
for the body. He was a tall, thin, young man, with long straggling
hair, a fierce eye, very thick lips, and a flat nose,--a nose which
seemed to be all nostril;--and then, below his mouth was a tuft of
beard, which he called an imperial. It was the glory of Ontario
Moggs to be a politician;--it was his ambition to be a poet;--it was
his nature to be a lover;--it was his disgrace to be a bootmaker.
Dependent on a stern father, and aware that it behoved him to earn
his bread, he could not but obey; but he groaned under this servitude
to trade, and was only happy when speaking at his debating club,
held at the Cheshire Cheese, or when basking in the beauty of Polly
Neefit. He was great upon Strikes,--in reference to which perilous
subject he was altogether at variance with his father, who worshipped
capital and hated unions. Ontario held horrible ideas about
co-operative associations, the rights of labour, and the welfare of
the masses. Thrice he had quarrelled with his father;--but the old
man loved his son, and though he was stern, strove to bring the young
man into the ways of money-making. How was he to think of marrying
Polly