a quarter before nine
It could scarcely be called a trade , in spite of his favourite description of himself as `` a honest tradesman . '' His stock consisted of a wooden stool , made out of a broken-backed chair cut down , which stool , young Jerry , walking at his father 's side , carried every morning to beneath the banking-house window that was nearest Temple Bar : where , with the addition of the first handful of straw that could be gleaned from any passing vehicle to keep the cold and wet from the odd-job-man 's feet , it formed the encampment for the day . On this post of his , Mr. Cruncher was as well known to Fleet-street and the Temple , as the Bar itself , -- and was almost as in-looking . Encamped at a quarter before nine , in good time to touch his three-cornered hat to the oldest of men as they passed in to Tellson 's , Jerry took up his station on this windy March morning , with young Jerry standing by him , when not engaged in making forays through the Bar , to inflict bodily and mental injuries of an acute description on passing boys who were small enough for his amiable purpose . Father and son , extremely like each other , looking silently on at the morning traffic in Fleet-street , with their two heads as near to one another as the two eyes of each were , bore a considerable resemblance to a pair of monkeys . The resemblance was not lessened by the accidental circumstance , that the mature Jerry bit and spat out straw , while the twinkling eyes of the youthful Jerry were as restlessly watchful of him as of everything else in Fleet-street . The head of one of the regular indoor messengers attached to Tellson 's establishment was put through the door , and the word was given : `` Porter wanted ! ''