"'If my friends 'll stand by me I'll pull through,' says he.
"'But your friends have their own families to stand by,' I says.
"'Look here, Mr. Potter,' says he. 'You've no such expense as I have. You're able to help me, an' you ought to. I've got a note comin' due tomorrow an' no money to pay it with.'
"'Renew it an' then retrench,' I says. 'Cut down your expenses an' your prices.'
"'Can't,' says he. 'It costs too much to live. What 'll I do ?'
"'You ought to die,' I says, very mad.
"'I can't,' says he.
"'Why not?'
"'It costs so much to die,' he says. 'Why, it takes a thousan' dollars to give a man a decent funeral these days.'
"'Wal,' I says, 'a man that can't afford either to live or die excites my sympathy an' my caution. You've taxed the community for yer luxuries, an' now ye want to tax me for yer notes. It's unjust discrimination. It gives me a kind of a lonesome feelin'. You tell your boy Dan to come an' see me. He needs advice more than you need money, an' I've got a full line of it.'