Well, I studied it over a long time, but I
couldn't make it out: so says I, 'Father, how came that 'ere bank to
break? Warn't it well built? I thought that 'ere Quincy granite was
so amazin' strong all natur' wouldn't break it.' 'Why you foolish
critter,' says he, 'it ain't the buildin' that's broke, it's the
consarn that's smashed.' 'Well,' says I, 'I know folks are plaguilly
consarned about it, but what do you call folks' "smashin' their
consarns"?' Father, he larfed out like anything; I thought he never
would stop; and sister Sall got right up and walked out of the room,
as mad as a hatter. Says she, 'Sam, I do believe you are a born fool,
I vow.' When father had done larfin', says he, 'I'll tell you, Sam,
how it was. They ciphered it so that they brought out nothin' for a
remainder.' 'Possible!' says I; 'I thought there was no eend to their
puss. I thought it was like Uncle Peleg's musquash hole, and that
no soul could ever find the bottom of. My!' says I. 'Yes,' says he,
'that 'ere bank spent and lost more money than it made, and when
folks do that, they must smash at last, if their puss be as long as
the national one of Uncle Sam.' This Province is like that 'ere Bank
of our'n, it's goin' the same road, and they'll find the little eend
of the horn afore they think they are halfway down to it.
"If folks would only give over talkin' about that everlastin' House
of Assembly and Council, and see to their farms, it would be better
for 'em, I guess; for arter all, what is it? Why it's only a sort of
first chop Grand Jury, and nothin' else.
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