Johnston McCulley

“ You want a yacht and it costs fifty thousand dollars. You get the yacht, and it doesn't cost the Benburker family a cent."
"But—"
"Just a little lesson, son. Where does your fond father get his money?"
"Stocks, bonds—"
"In the first place, son, I mean. Where do I get the money with which I purchase stocks and bonds? Where is the foundation? No wise man puts a foundation on stocks and bonds. The foundation of a fortune can be built safely of one class of things—commodities used by the great mass of people every day. Now—where do I get my money?"
"Bricks and beans!" ”

“ Just to have a sight of the ocean, and see the waves roll in, and watch the breakers dash, and glimpse well-dressed gods and goddesses spending money and riding in automobiles, and read the flaring banners before sideshows and guess as to what one would see if one were rich and could enter! ”

“ There you are! We buy the yacht, but we don't have to dig in our own bank-roll to pay for her. And the joke is that nobody is hurt. What's forty-eight cents a week to a man of ours? And what's a stingy cent a pound on beans?"
"Great guns!" said the son and heir again.
III. This Saturday night there was no drizzle, and the air was balmy, and the grocer had not forgotten to give Peter Smith the two sticks of candy for his children, yet Peter Smith had to make an extra effort to whistle when he reached the mouth of the alley. ”

“ You haven't been strong since the last baby—"
"I took my time, Peter, and it didn't hurt me a bit. And I'll not do it again. I wanted to take the babies so much."
Peter looked down at her, and the tears were very near to coming. He kissed her awkwardly.
"All right," he said. "We'll make the most of it, then. We'll talk about it this evening, so the kiddies will be anticipating, and we'll give them the time of their lives to-morrow. I suppose we'd better get up in time to catch the first train—"
They caught the first train, and they arrived at the beach at an early hour. ”

“ The baby was asleep now, and young Peter and young Mary were silent in the enjoyment of an inch of stick candy each. The grocer at the corner always gave Peter Smith two sticks of candy on Saturday night when Peter purchased the week's supplies, for Peter always paid cash. ”

“ That'll be four dollars and eighty cents per man for the ten weeks. Five thousand men—that 'll be twenty-four thousand dollars even. There's half your yacht."
"Great guns!" the son and heir exclaimed.
"Simple little lesson. What's forty-eight cents a week? Nothing! They'll never miss it. Now for the rest of your yacht. I'll just pass the word that beans are to be raised one cent a pound until three million pounds have been sold. What's a cent a pound? Nothing! When that amount has been sold, we'll cut back to the old price—maybe. We'll explain that there's a shortage this year. Nothing easier! ”

“ Peter. "And it would do them so much good! We surely must manage to do it, Peter! A dollar seems such a little bit of money, and yet—"
"Now, don't get pessimistic, maw. A dollar's a dollar! We'll manage it, all right. Maybe I can get an evening's extra work somewhere—or they might raise our wages. If only beans wasn't so blamed high—"
II. It was two o'clock in the afternoon of Monday, and John Henry Benburker, just returned from luncheon, was wondering whether to drive out to the country club, when his son and heir was ushered in. ”

“ They'll never miss it—and the report will be spread that the retrenchment is for only a few weeks because of a poor market—rather keep all the men at a few cents less than fire a third of them and let the others have their regular wage. ”

“ It'd take only a little more than a dollar, but a dollar—gosh! Wages down and beans up! I suppose it wouldn't make much difference to some folks—"
"Now, Peter! Don't you begin worrying! Everything's all right. We're lots better off than some."
The Saturday night before he had begged her not to be pessimistic, and had explained things in this same way. Now that he was downhearted for the moment, it was the wife's duty to be the cheering one. Not such a bad philosophy that.
"Go ocean?" their small son asked.
Peter turned his face away. Mrs. ”