u to graduate from there.
It'll give you the tone you need in the profession. There are two
qualities that make for the highest success in the law--honesty
and dishonesty. To get ahead you must have one or the other. You
must either be so irreproachable in your conduct and elevated in
your ideals that your reputation for virtue becomes your chief
asset, or, on the other hand, so crooked that your very dishonesty
makes you invaluable to your clients. Both kinds of lawyers are
equally in demand. Some cases require respectability and some
dirty work. But the crooked lawyer has got to be so crooked that
everybody is afraid of him, even the judge. Now, the trouble with
me is that I'm too honest. Sometimes I wish I were a crook like
the rest of them!"

He sighed deeply and slowly drew down his left eyelid.

"Thank you, Mr. Gottlieb," said I, suppressing an inclination to
smile. "I'll take your advice. Perhaps you'll let me talk to
you again later on."

"Come as often as you like," he replied. "And look you, young-
feller-me-lad, I'll give you half of all the profits I make out of
any business you bring me. You don't have to be a lawyer to get
clients. Hustle around among your friends and drum up some trade
and you'll do almost as well as if you could try cases yourself.
For every dollar I earn you get another. Is it a go?"

"Surely!" I cried. "And if I'm not very much mistaken I'll not be
long about it, for I have an idea or two in my head already."

The next day I again presented myself at the office of Haight &
Foster, where I had already applied for a position to the chief
clerk. This time I asked for the head of the firm himself, and I
was amused to see that whereas before I had been almost kicked out
of the office, I was now treated with the respect due to a possible
client. After a wait of some twenty minutes I was ushered into a
large sunny office lined with books and overlooking the lower East
River. Mr. Haight was a wrinkled old man with a bald scalp covered
with numerous brown patches about the size of ten-cent pieces. A
fringe of white hair hung about his ears, over one of which was
stuck a goose-quill pen. He looked up from his desk as I entered
and eyed me sharply.

"Well, Mr. Quibble," he began gruffly, as if he were about to add,
"out with what you have to say, young man, and be gone as soon as
possible!"

"Mr. Haight," said I with great defence, "I have called on you at
the sugge