14 A Rich Poor Man 



sympathize deeply with the one who got so lit- 

 tle out of life. I know that such sympathy 

 would be received by his friends and fellow 

 bank directors with amazement. Was he not 

 rich and respected? Did he not die in harness? 

 What more can a man want? And if I timidly 

 suggest that there is a joy about lobster catch- 

 ing in an October breeze, or even in oystering 

 in December, far beyond the pleasure of mak- 

 ing money out of lard, some eminently re- 

 spectable people I know will doubt my sanity. 

 Take two men, one of whom follows the life of 

 my late respected and rich neighbor, making 

 existence one long strain for money, and finally 

 dying in ignorance of everything but the price 

 of lard in Chicago, Buenos Ayres, London, 

 Paris, and Timbuctoo ; on the other hand, take 

 my poor neighbor, who, when he comes to die, 

 will not even be mentioned by the newspapers, 

 whose name no bank director ever saw on the 

 back of a note, who knew nothing about the 

 price of lard except at the corner grocery, but 

 who enjoyed fifty years of sport, of gardening, 

 of fishing, and of out-door happiness. Which 

 of these two men got the most out of life? 



