All our money goes to pay salaries, and a poor man has no
chance at all.' 'Well,' says I, 'are you done up stock and fluke--a
total wrack?' 'No,' says he, 'I have two hundred pounds left yet to
the good, but my farm, stock and utensils, them young blood horses,
and the bran' new vessel I was a-buildin', are all gone to pot,
swept as clean as a thrashin' floor, that's a fact; Shark and Co.
took all.' 'Well,' says I, 'do you know the reason of all that
misfortin'?' 'Oh,' says he, 'any fool can tell that; bad times to be
sure--everything has turned agin the country, the banks have it all
their own way, and much good may it do 'em.' 'Well,' says I, 'what's
the reason the banks don't eat us up too, for I guess they are as
hungry as your'n be, and no way particular about their food neither;
considerable sharp set--cut like razors, you may depend. I'll tell
you,' says I, 'how you get that 'ere slide, that sent you heels over
head--YOU HAD TOO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE. You hadn't ought to have
taken hold of ship buildin' at all; you knowed nothin' about it. You
should have stuck to your farm, and your farm would have stuck to
you. Now go back, afore you spend your money, go up to Douglas,
and you'll buy as good a farm for two hundred pounds as what you
lost, and see to that, and to that only, and you'll grow rich.
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