"You will not deny, Clara, that any thing which is fettered is not free? And that freedom is the greatest blessing of this happy country; and that trade ought to be as free as any thing else?" All this was gibberish to Clara Caverly, who understood the phrases, notwithstanding, quite as well as the friend who was using them. Political economy is especially a science of terms; and free trade, as a branch of it is called, is just the portion of it which is indebted to them the most. But Clara had not patience to hear any more of the unintelligible jargon which has got possession of the world to-day, much as Mr. Pitt's celebrated sinking-fund scheme for paying off the national debt of Great Britain did, half a century since, and under very much the same influences; and she desired her friend to come at once to the point, as connected with the pocket-handkerchief. {Mr. Pitt's celebrated sinking-fund = Sir William Pitt "the younger" (1759-1806), when he became Prime Minister in 1784, sought to raise taxes in order to pay off the British national debt} "Well, then," resumed Eudosia, "it is connected in this way. The luxuries of the rich give employment to the poor, and cause money to circulate. Now this handkerchief of mine, no doubt, has given employment to some poor French girl for four or five months, and, of course, food and raiment. She has earned, no doubt, fifty of the hundred dollars I have paid. Then the custom-house--ah, Clara, if it were not for that vile custom-house, I might have had the handkerchief for at least five-and-twenty dollars lower----!" "In which case you would have prized it five-and-twenty times less," answered Clara, smiling archly. "THAT is true; yes, free trade, after all, does NOT apply to pocket-handkerchiefs." "And yet," interrupted Clara, laughing, "if one can believe what one reads, it applies to hackney-coaches, ferry-boats, doctors, lawyers, and even the clergy. My father says it is----" "What? I am curious to know, Clara, what as plain speaking a man as Mr. Caverly calls it." "He is plain speaking enough to call it a ---- HUMBUG," said the daughter, endeavoring to mouth the word in a theatrical manner. "But, as Othello says, the handkerchief." {Othello says... = "Fetch me the handkerchief," Shakespeare, "Othello," Act III, Scene 4, line 98} "Oh! Fifty dollars go to the poor girl who does the work, twenty-five more to the odious custom-house, some fifteen to rent, fuel, lights, and ten, perhaps, to Mr. Bobbinet, as profits. Now all this is very good, and very useful to society, as you must own."