"I know it wouldn't be right. And what I want to ask of you is this: The investment will require about two hundred dollars. Won't you lend me that amount?" He scratched his head, scratched his chin, bit off a chew of tobacco, stretched himself and said: "Well, I have been lending money all my life, and I don't see why I should stop now. Did you ever hear of anybody paying back borrowed money except in a poker game? I never did. Do people really pay back? I don't know what the custom is over in the part of the country you came from, but the rules are very strict here, and they are not violated very often--they rarely pay back. And they never violate the rule with me." "My dear sir, I will pay you----" "Yes, I know. Oh, you've got the formula down pretty fine. Make a good lawyer. I've got some money in that safe, that is, if nobody has robbed me. Let me see if I've been robbed." He opened the safe and took out a package of banknotes. "Don't believe I've been robbed. Rather singular, too," he went on, counting the money. "Two hundred, you said. Better take two-fifty--you need some clothes. Pardon me for being so keen an observer. It really escaped my notice until this moment. But what you want with the old house is more than I can understand. No, Billy--Bill, I mean--no, I understand it and it is a noble quality." He rolled up the money, handed it to me and continued to talk. "After all, sentiment is the only thing in life, but you'd better not tell this about town--I'd never get another case. Yes, sir, and the poet is the only man who really lives. Now go on and buy your acre of sentiment, and when you have closed the bargain, lie down upon your possessions and go to sleep. Tell the old man that he is a fool for going away, but tell him also that I don't blame him for being a fool. Yes, sir, I love a fool, for it's the wise man that puts me to trouble. Give my warmest regards to that old woman. Let me tell you something: Many years ago I was a poor young fellow working about the court-house. And the clothes you've got on now are wedding garments compared with what mine were. Well, one day I stopped at Jucklin's house to get out of the rain--he hadn't been married long--and soon after I went into the sitting-room, the wife began to whisper to the husband, and when she went out, which she did a moment later, Jucklin turned to me and said: 'Go up stairs, take off your britches and throw 'em down here, and I'll bring 'em back to you after a while.' I was actually out at the knees, sir, and I did as he told me, and when he brought my trousers back they were neatly patched. Yes, sir, give my warmest regards to that old woman, for if she isn't a Christian there never was one. Well, what are you hanging around here for? Trying to thank me? Is that it? Well, just go on, my boy, and we'll attend to that some other time."