University of Virginia Library

2. II

"It was that way with Henry Wiggins. He couldn't talk to you for five minutes without startin' in to tell you what a good time he had bein' unhappy. He used to lean on the counter there an' tell me over an' over again that his vice was virtue. Why, if you drove him to

it, he'd argue that the orphans an' widows of the country would all go to the poorhouse if he were to loosen up an' spend anything. He wasn't savin' up to give to anybody that needed it, but he'd swear that poor people were better off because he was what he called `frugal,' and that they would be poorer if they got any part of what he had more of than he needed. He knew lots of words, but he couldn't fit 'em together in any kind of an argument that sounded reasonable.

"I agreed with him just as long as his stuff sounded funny to me, but after a while it got stale, an' I told him something.

"`Do you know what?' I says to him one day. `You ain't deep; you're just tight. You're just a plain, ordinary, every-day tightwad. There's only one reason you hang on to money the way you do,' I says to him. `You'd rather hang on than let go. Don't kid yourself into thinkin' that you shine your own shoes just to give the poor little dago bootblack time to study English an' learn to be President or something. You black 'em yourself because you'd rather bend over an' work than set still an' pay a nickel for the privilege. You ain't denyin' yourself nothin',' I says, `just to set some widows or orphans a good example. You're not stingy,' I says, `because you think you ought to be stingy. You're stingy,' I says to him, `just because you're stingy. You'd have a lot more fun if you were generous, an' you know it; but you're so stingy you won't even give yourself a good time. You think you're pretty wise for holding out on everybody,' I says to him. `Wise!' I says. `Why, you're the champion book of the universe! A hick that lets a con man oil him for a piece o' change may be a foolish fish,' I says; `but if he's a sucker, you're a whole school of whales. You double-cross yourself. You sell yourself a gold brick, an' when you find out it's brass you won't believe it. No! You go an' buy more o' the same. You've been stingy an' miserable all your life,' I says to him. `The answer's easy. Two an' two make four. Loosen up an' be happy!'

"Do you think he got sore? Not a chance! Just confidential.

"`In a way you're right,' he admits. `But at the same time you're absolutely wrong. I am miserable,' he says. `I never have had any fun, and sometimes I do feel as if I was cheating myself; but I'm not,' he says. `I only feel that way in my moments of weakness. I have a system,' he says; `a system that may take time to work out to my advantage, but it will work,' he says. `We're all out for the most we can get out of life, aren't we? Sure. Now some people spend money as they get it, for this, that, and the other thing. They spend it to go to theaters and dances. They spend it for nice clothes. They spend it for fine apartments and expensive food. They spend it in tips in return for good service and a smile from the people that serve them. They spend it for many little things each day — many things which I know they don't particularly want.

"`That's where I'm different,' Henry goes on to tell me. `I'm not stingy; I'm just playing my system. I'm not going to spend a nickel that I don't absolutely have to until I see something that I like better than I like money — something that I want more than I want anything else in the world. When I find that thing, I'll have the money to get it, and I will get it. No matter what it costs, I'll get it! When I find the one thing that will bring me happiness, you'll see whether I'm stingy or not! You'll see whether I can spend money or not. Most people haven't the stren(yth of character to wait for big happiness. They must have it every day in retail lots. I'm different. I'm going to wait until I find what I've absolutely got to have to make me happy, and when I find it I'll be able to get it. You bet I will! That's my system,' he says. `I'm no fool!'

"`Then you're a fine imitation,' I says. `Accordin' to all I've been able to dope out, the Lord figured out this game of life pretty well. He made happiness the reward for winnin' at it, an' laid out a system of play that don't jibe with the one you follow. Accordin' to His system, a tip an' a kind word to the bootblack in the mornin' entitles you to a chip o' happiness out of the main pot. The more you feed the kitty that goes to them that ain't got the price to buy in on the big game, the more luck you have with the hands you hold. You've got into the habit of cheatin' yourself, Mr. Wiggins,' I says. `An' when you want to hand yourself a square deal, you won't be able to break the habit,' I says.

"`Ah,won't I?' he says. `You'll see!'

"An' I saw!