'You are as contrarious as a woman. Here am I, swollen with the grandest news, and you must babble about poets and creditors. Nick, there'll be few creditors to dun you and me for a bit. Just listen, will you?'
He leaned his elbows on the back of the bench, and read from his letter. It was to the effect that, during April, an edict had been published in France, transferring to Mr. Law's company of the West the exclusive rights of trading to the East Indies and the South Seas.
'Think of it, Nick!' he cried. 'The actions have risen from 550 livres to 1,000, and we are as yet at the budding of May. Why, man, as it is we are well to do. Just imagine that, if you can, you threadbare devil! We shall be rich before August.'
'We shall dine off silver plates in September!' cries Nick, leaping up in the contagion of his friend's good spirits..
'And drink out of diamond cups in November,' adds Kelly, dropping at once into the Irish accent.
'Bedad!' shouts Wogan, 'I'll write my poetry on beaten gold,' and he sprang on to the seat.
'You shall,' replies Kelly; 'and your ink shall be distilled out of black pearls.'
'Sure, George, one does not write on gold with ink, but with a graving tool.'
'This nonsense, and poetry, are what the lucky heart sings,' said Kelly.
'To a tune of clinking coins,' said Wogan. He stooped down to his friend. 'Have it all in solid gold, and tied up in sacks,' said he earnestly. 'None of their bills of exchange, but crowns, and pieces of eight, and doubloons, and guinea-pieces; and all tied up in sacks.'