A RICH POOR MAN AND A POOR RICH ONE. I $ 



lobster boat to the banker's desk, who would 

 rather know the habits of the clam than the 

 price of lard in Chicago, New York, and those 

 other places, is in danger of deterioration, or 

 that his example is vicious. Let all the world 

 follow your advice, say the wiseacres, and we 

 should drift back to savagery. 



That eminent financier, Mr. Jay Gould, is 

 said to have remarked, in a fit of depression, or 

 perhaps in an attempt to discourage envy of 

 his millions, that his money gave him nothing 

 more than some clothes to wear, a house to 

 live in, and some little luxuries. Some of my 

 critics will undoubtedly exclaim : " Look at 

 Gould. Does he not enjoy the sea breeze in 

 his yacht, and all the pleasures of nature ? " 

 Perhaps he does, in a difficult sort of way, fil- 

 tered through flunkeys, so to speak. But of 

 the young men who are tempted to keep 

 their noses at the gilded grindstone, how many 

 will attain to the dignity of a yacht ? How 

 many will die in harness long before they think 

 it possible to stop work and begin to play ? 

 How many will lose all capacity for the enjoy- 

 ment of life before their pile of gold is big 

 enough ? 



