, that whosoever shall lose a hatchet shall
immediately grow rich? Ha, ha, ha! by Jove, you shall e'en be lost, an't
please you, my dear hatchet. With this they all fairly lost their hatchets
out of hand. The devil of one that had a hatchet left; he was not his
mother's son that did not lose his hatchet. No more was wood felled or
cleaved in that country through want of hatchets. Nay, the Aesopian
apologue even saith that certain petty country gents of the lower class,
who had sold Wellhung their little mill and little field to have
wherewithal to make a figure at the next muster, having been told that his
treasure was come to him by that only means, sold the only badge of their
gentility, their swords, to purchase hatchets to go lose them, as the silly
clodpates did, in hopes to gain store of chink by that loss.

You would have truly sworn they had been a parcel of your petty spiritual
usurers, Rome-bound, selling their all, and borrowing of others, to buy
store of mandates, a pennyworth of a new-made pope.

Now they cried out and brayed, and prayed and bawled, and lamented, and
invoked Jupiter: My hatchet! my hatchet! Jupiter, my hatchet! on this
side, My hatchet! on that side, My hatchet! Ho, ho, ho, ho, Jupiter, my
hatchet! The air round about rung again with the cries and howlings of
these rascally losers of hatchets.

Mercury was nimble in bringing them hatchets; to each offering that which
he had lost, as also another of gold, and a third of silver.

Every he still was for that of gold, giving thanks in abundance to the
great giver, Jupiter; but in the very nick of time that they bowed and
stooped to take it from the ground, whip, in a trice, Mercury lopped off
their heads, as Jupiter had commanded; and of heads thus cut off the number
was just equal to that of the lost hatchets.

You see how it is now; you see how it goes with those who in the simplicity
of their hearts wish and desire with moderation. Take warning by this, all
you greedy, fresh-water sharks, who scorn to wish for anything under ten
thousand pounds; and do not for the future run on impudently, as I have
sometimes heard you wishing, Would to God I had now one hundred
seventy-eight millions of gold! Oh! how I should tickle it off. The deuce
on you, what more might a king, an emperor, or a pope wish for? For that
reason, indeed, you see that after you have made such hopeful wishes, all
the good that comes to you of it is the itch or