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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

Against the loans to the old monarchies there is only this
objection, that they are unreasonable; will drain out gold when gold
will be life-blood; which brings me, by connection, to my third
item--the provincial circulation. Pray, gentlemen, do you remember the
year 1793?"
For some minutes past a dead silence and a deep, absorbed attention
had received the young man's words; but that quiet question was like a
great stone descending suddenly on a silent stream. Such a noise,
agitation, and flutter. The old banker and his clerk both began to
speak at once.
"Don't we?"
"Oh, Lord, Mr. Richard, don't talk of 1793."
"What do you know about 1793? You weren't born."
"Oh, Mr. Richard, such a to-do, sir! 1800 firms in the Gazette.
Seventy banks stopped."
"Nearer a hundred, Mr. Skinner. Seventy-one stopped in the provinces,
and a score in London."
"Why, sir, Mr. Richard knows everything, whether he was born or not."
"No, he doesn't, you old goose; he doesn't know how you and I sat
looking at one another, and pretending to fumble, and counting out
slowly, waiting sick at heart for the sack of guineas that was to come
down by coach. If it had not come we should not have broken, but we
should have suspended payment for twenty-four hours, and I was young
enough then to have cut my throat in the interval."
"But it came, sir--it came, and you cried, 'Keep the bank open till
midnight!' and when the blackguards heard that, and saw the sackful of
gold, they crept away; they were afraid of offending us.


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