"It is better to have a poor resource than none at all."

"Well, I'll go and see what can be done."

Squire Green was the rich man of the town. He had inherited from
his father, just as he came of age, a farm of a hundred and fifty
acres, and a few hundred dollars.

The land was not good, and far from productive; but he had scrimped
and saved and pinched and denied himself, spending almost nothing,
till the little money which the farm annually yielded him had
accumulated to a considerable sum. Then, too, as there were no
banks near at hand to accommodate borrowers, the squire used to
lend money to his poorer neighbors. He took care not to exact more
than six per cent. openly, but it was generally understood that the
borrower must pay a bonus besides to secure a loan, which, added
to the legal interest, gave him a very handsome consideration for
the use of his spare funds. So his money rapidly increased, doubling
every five or six years through his shrewd mode of management, and
every year he grew more economical. His wife had died ten years
before. She had worked hard for very poor pay, for the squire's
table was proverbially meager, and her bills for dress, judging
from her appearance, must have been uncommonly small.

The squire had one son, now in the neighborhood of thirty, but he
had not been at home for several years. As soon as he attained his
majority he left the homestead, and set out to seek his fortune
elsewhere. He vowed he wouldn't any longer submit to the penurious
ways of the squire. So the old man was left alone, but he did not