he's an ol' fool if he wears a
buttonhole bokay an' his teeth is only tinants at will an' not
permanent fixtures, 'tis no more thin nach'ral that he shud begin
to look around him f'r a way iv keepin' a grip on human s'ciety.
It don't take him long to see that th' on'y thing that's vin'rable
in age is money an' he pro-ceeds to acquire anything that happens
to be in sight, takin' it where he can find it, not where he wants
it, which is th' way to accumylate a fortune. Money won't prolong
life, but a few millyons judicyously placed in good banks an'
occas'nally worn on th' person will rayjooce age. Poor ol' men
are always older thin poor rich men. In th' almshouse a man is
decrepit an' mournful-lookin' at sixty, but a millyonaire at sixty
is jus' in th' prime iv life to a frindly eye, an' there are no
others.

"It's aisier to th' ol' to grow rich thin it is to th' young. At
makin' money a man iv sixty is miles ahead iv a la-ad iv
twinty-five. Pollytics and bankin' is th' on'y two games where
age has th' best iv it. Youth has betther things to attind to,
an' more iv thim. I don't blame a man f'r bein' stingy anny more
thin I blame him f'r havin' a bad leg. Ye know th' doctors say
that if ye don't use wan iv ye'er limbs f'r a year or so ye can
niver use it again. So it is with gin'rosity. A man starts arly
in life not bein' gin'rous. He says to himsilf: "I wurruked f'r
this thing an' if I give it away I lose it." He ties up his
gin'rosity in bandages so that th' blood can't circylate in it.
It gets to be a superstition with him that he'll have bad luck if
he iver does annything f'r annybody. An' so he rakes in an' puts
his private mark with his teeth on all th' movable money in th'
wurruld. But th' day comes whin he sees people around him gettin'
a good dale iv injyemint out iv gin'rosity an' somewan says: 'Why
don't ye, too, be gin-rous? Come, ol' green goods, unbelt, loosen
up, be gin-rous.' 'Gin'rous?' says he, 'what's that?' 'It's th'
best spoort in th' wurruld. It's givin' things to people.' 'But
I can't,' he says. 'I haven't annything to do it with,' he says.
'I don't know th' game. I haven't anny gin'rosity,' he says.
'But ye have,' says they. 'Ye have as much gin'rosity as annywan
if ye'll only use it,' says they. 'Take it out iv th' plasther
cast ye put it in an' 'twill look as good as new,' says they. An'
he does it. He thries to use his gin'rosity, but all th' life is
out iv it. It gives wa