“What’s the principal?” demanded Mrs Gaff.
“Why, the whole sum; the money itself, you know.”
“D’ye suppose that I’m a born fool, Mr Barepoles, that I should try to live on the money itself? I never heerd on anybody bilin’ up money in a kettle an’ suppin’ goold soup, and I’m not a-goin’ for to try.”
With infinite difficulty, and much futile effort at illustration, did Haco explain to Mrs Gaff the difference between principal and interest; telling her to live on the latter, and never on any account to touch the former, unless she wished to “end her days in a work’us.”
“I wonder what it’s like,” said Mrs Gaff.
“What what’s like?” inquired the skipper.
“Ten thousand pounds.”
“Well, that depends too, you know, on what it’s made of—whether copper, silver, goold, or paper.”
“What! is it ever made o’ paper?”
In attempting to explain this point, Haco became unintelligible even to himself, and Mrs Gaff became wildly confused.