One day a regularly appointed Bank Inspector went into a Stronghold of
Finance situated in a One-Night Stand and found the President of the
Institution crying all over the Blotter.
"Why these tears?" asked the Official. "Are the Farmers paying off
their Mortgages?"
"Worse than that," replied the Elderly Man, whose Side Whiskers were
a Tower of Strength in the Community. "We are entering upon an Era
of Extravagance. The Tillers of the Soil are no longer Hewing Wood
and Drawing Water. They are now hewing Holes in the Atmosphere and
drawing Gasoline. Not many Years ago [the] Simple Agriculturist drove
into Town in a South Bend Wagon with Red Roses painted on the Dash-
Board and stopped at the Bank long enough to tie a Chattel Mortgage on
his Cow, with Interest at 2 Per Cent. a Month, payable in Advance.
Nowadays he comes zipping up in a This Year's Model of the Kokomobile
with Torpedo Body, Fore-Doors and Red Cushions and draws out his
Balance so that he can get Extra Tires and a Speedometer. Every Hired
Hand has become a Chauffeur, and the Jay that used to wear Gosh-dingits
and drive a $80 Pelter now wears Goggles and drives a Roadster with
four Lamps hung out in front of it."
"Why are you annoyed by these Evidences of Prosperity?" asked the
Official. "The humble Farmer has been the Goat for 2,000 Years. Now
he is catching Even by burning up the Turnpike, while the City People
who feel sorry for him are sleeping on the Fire Escapes and saving up
to see the Movies."
"You do not grasp the full Horror of the Situation," said the President
of the Bank. "If all the Reubs withdraw their Deposits in order to buy
these expensive $1,200 Cars, our Reserve will be so badly depleted and
Normal Conditions so badly disturbed that possibly I will have to
Cancel my Order for that $7,000 French Limousine which I picked out at
the New York Show."
Whereupon he resumed his Weeping.
MORAL: It is Time to call a Halt.