Simon: I am thinking you should be Damer. I heard said Damer has a full crock of gold.
Damer: He has not! He has not!
Simon: That is what the world says anyway. I heard it as far as the seaside.
Damer: I wish to my God it was true!
Simon: Full and brimming to the brink. That is the way it was told.
Damer: It is not full! It is not! Whisper now. It is many a time I thought it to be full, full at last, full at last!
Simon: And it wasn't after?
Damer: To take it and to shake it I do. It is often I gave myself a promise the time there will be no sound from it, I will give in to nourish myself, I will rise out of misery. But every time I will try it, I will hear a little clatter that tells me there is some space left; some small little hole or gap.
Simon: What signifies that when you have so much in it?
Damer: Weightier it gets and weightier, but there will always be that little sound. I thought to stop it one time, putting in a fistful of hayseed; but I felt in my heart that was not dealing fair and honest with myself, and I rose up and shook it out again, rising up from my bed in the night time. I near got my death with the cold and the draught fell on me doing that.