Says I: “It is neither, Jobe. It is neither. It is female—female argament, based on common sense and bed-rock experience. It is the argament of a lovin wife to a errin husband. The argament of one who knows there is somethin wrong and has tried to find somethin better than what we have got. Are you ready?” says I.
Jobe tried to nod his head, but couldent. He looked real interestin.
“Perceed with the argament,” says he.
So, leanin up strait in my chair and foldin my arms across my boozum, I perceeded. Says I:
“Jobe, what is money?”
“Money?” says he. “Why, money is—is—is—why, Betsy, money is jist money.”
Says I: “Is that all the answer you can give?”
“I guess so,” says he.
Then a thought seemed to strike him, and, lookin up sudden like, says he:
“Why, money is gold—thats what money is.”