“The golden hay, you mean.”
“I do.”
“How are we to make it?”
“By going sickle in hand to the field, and reaping with the rest.”
“Suppose the field should be reaped before we get there?”
“That cannot be. The gold region is a thousand miles in length and several hundreds in breadth. There is enough for all who will go for the next ten years.”
“I must beg leave to doubt that,” coolly replied Jenkins. “It’s all a feverish imagination. Gold dazzles the eyes and keeps men from seeing in a clear light.”
“But, my dear man,” said Perley, “look at the facts and judge for yourself. Take Governor Mason’s statement.”
“Very well. Suppose we believe all the governor says, what then? Why, the man who finds an ounce of gold a day has to pay about sixteen prices for the necessaries of life, and, so is no better off than the man here who earns a dollar in the same time. The only way in which he can accumulate gold is to live like a savage.”
“But, I wouldn’t go to dig gold!”