We often take delight in fancying what we would do if things were really reversed in this oftentimes trying world: and particularly what we would do to the president of our bank. Here is a little story which gives the pleasant variety:
I have come in to borrow some money from you, said the bank president timidly, as he stood before one of his depositors, nervously twirling his hat in his hand.
Ah, yes, said the depositor, gazing at him severely. "But you don't expect to get it, do you?"
I had hoped to.
What collateral have you to offer?
My bank with all the money in it.
All the people in the bank?
Yes.
Please say 'Yes, sir.' It is more respectful.
Thank you, sir.
Um! Ah! Will you put in your own family?
Yes, sir, I'll throw in my family also.
Your prospects in life? Don't hesitate, man. Remember you are up against it.
Well, yes, sir.
How much money do you want?
One thousand dollars.
Dear me! For such a small amount as that I shall have to charge you at least six per cent. If you were a regular millionaire and wanted, say, half a million, I could let you have it for three or four per cent.
Yes, sir. I appreciate your generosity.
The depositor handed the president of the bank, who was now almost completely bathed in a cold perspiration, a blank form.
Here, he said, "sign this."
Do you wish me to read it first, sir?
What! Read something you wouldn't understand anyway? No. I'll tell you what's in it. It mortgages yourself, your bank, all the people in it, your family, all your property, and your soul Sign here.
The bank president signed with trembling fingers, got a piece of paper which entitled him to the privilege of entertaining a thousand dollars for six months at his own expense, and withdrew.
Then the depositor, smiling to himself and rubbing his hands, said:
"Aha! I'll teach these fellows to know their places!"