Owen Wister

Owen Wister

Summary

Portrait of Owen Wister Owen Wister Mother

I was well pleased to find how much I had underrated the interest-bearing capacity of my windfall. ‘Four per cent!’ he cried, when I told him this was the extent of my expectations. ‘Why, you’re talking like a trustee.’ And then seeing that his meaning was beyond me, he explained in his bluff, humorous manner. ‘All a trustee cares for you know, is his reputation for safety. It’s not his own income he’s nursing, and so he doesn’t care how small he makes it, provided only that his investments would be always called safe.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Owen Wister Owen Wister Mother

We had been as usual talking about stocks, as we walked on the Riverside Drive on a Sunday afternoon in May. Ethel had been for some moments silent. ‘Richard,’ she finally began, ‘if I had had the naming of these things, I should never have called them securities. Insecurities comes a great deal nearer what they are. What right has a thing that says on its face it is worth a thousand dollars to go bobbing up and down in the way most of them do?
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Owen Wister Owen Wister Mother

When handsome young Richard Field—he was very handsome and very young—announced to our assembled company that if his turn should really come to tell us a story, the story should be no invention of his fancy, but a page of truth, a chapter from his own life, in which himself was the hero and a lovely, innocent girl was the heroine, his wife at once looked extremely uncomfortable.
Source: Gutenberg

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