The Fatal Boots by William Makepeace Thackeray

I have called this chapter "cutting weather," partly in compliment to / the month of February, and partly in respect of my own misfortunes, / which you are going to read about. For I have often thought that January / (which is mostly twelfth-cake and holiday time) is like the first four / or five years of a little boy's life; then comes dismal February, and / the working-days with it, when chaps begin to look out for themselves, / after the Christmas and the New Year's heyday and merrymaking are over, / which our infancy may well be said to be. Well can I recollect that / bitter first of February, when I first launched out into the world and / appeared at Doctor Swishtail's academy.

I began at school that life of prudence and economy which I have carried / on ever since. My mother gave me eighteenpence on setting out (poor / soul! I thought her heart would break as she kissed me, and bade God / bless me); and, besides, I had a small capital of my own which I had / amassed for a year previous. I'll tell you, what I used to do. Wherever / I saw six halfpence I took one. If it was asked for I said I had taken / it and gave it back; -- if it was not missed, I said nothing about it, as / why should I? -- those who don't miss their money, don't lose their money. / So I had a little private fortune of three shillings, besides mother's / eighteenpence. At school they called me the copper-merchant, I had such / lots of it.