"When you commiserate me, therefore" ("I'm sure I shall never do it
again," said John Starkweather), "when you commiserate me, therefore,
and advise me to rise, you must give me really good reasons for
changing my occupation and becoming a millionaire. You must prove to
me that I can be more independent, more honest, more useful as a
millionaire, and that I shall have better and truer friends!"
John Starkweather looked around at me (I knew I had been absurdly
eager and I was rather ashamed of myself) and put his hand on my knee
(he has a wonderfully fine eye!).
"I don't believe," he said, "you'd have any truer friends."
"Anyway," I said repentantly, "I'll admit that millionaires have their
place--at present I wouldn't do entirely away with them, though I do
think they'd enjoy farming better. And if I were to select a
millionaire for all the best things I know, I should certainly choose
you, Mr. Starkweather."
He jumped up.
"You know who I am?" he asked.