"Bill came into my shop one day an' looked as if he hadn't a friend
in the world. He wanted to borrow some money.

"'Money!' I says. 'What makes ye think I've got money?'

"'Because ye ain't got any automobile,' he says, laughin'.

"'No,' I says. 'You bought one, an' that was all I could afford,'

"It never touched him. He went on as dry as a duck in a shower.
'You're one o' the few sensible men in this village. You live
within yer means, an' you ought to have money if ye ain't.'

"'I've got a little, but I don't see why you should have it,' I
says. 'You want me to do all the savin' for both of us.'

"'It costs so much to live I can't save a cent,' he says. 'You
know I've got a boy in college, an' it costs fearful. I told my
boy the other day how I worked my way through school an' lived on a
dollar a week in a little room an' did my own washin'. He says to
me, "Well, Governor, you forget that I have a social position to
maintain."'

"'He's right,' I says. 'You can't expect him to belong to the
varsity crew an' the Dickey an' the Hasty-Puddin' Club an' dress
an' behave like the son of an ordinary grocer in Pointview,
Connecticut. Ye can't live on nuts an' raisins an' be decent in
such a position. Looks to me as if it would require the combined
incomes o' the grocer an' his lawyer to maintain it. His position
is likely to be hard on your disposition. He's tryin' to keep up