"How are you? Why shouldn't it be?"
"But pray how came you here?"
"Like most other honest people, for that matter—because I couldn't help it. But it's all come of a mistake."
"Why, they have not mistaken you for another man, have they?"
"I can't say exactly that; but I made a mistake in going into the lottery trade."
"Then you didn't draw the high prize, eh?"
"No: but I came plaguey nigh it though—three more of the figures would have given me two of them."
"Indeed! you made the mistake in selecting the tickets, then? All you wanted was the right numbers!"
"Exactly so: but it's no use to cry over spilt milk, you know; and besides, that fellow the manager has failed, so that it's all blanks and no prizes, and I am as well off as others. But if I could dream as well as that Mr. Clark did, with his eyes open, in Richmond, I should like to go into Yates & M'Intyre's next scheme. It's well enough to have honest managers, you know."
"Very true, friend Wheelwright; but even then, it is the last 'way to wealth,' in my opinion, that any sensible man would take—on calculation."