Show CANT FIND HAPPINESS OLD MONEYBAGS IS BOTH A P PLUTOCRAT LU AND PAUPER he fie has amassed great wealth and lost all that was waa best beat in him dun and bradstreet Drad street rate him rich hla his name works magic at the bank his check la Is good tor for millions his vaults are stuffed with stocks and bonds but hla his dollars have an actual value of 0 five cents each he Is bloated with riches and writhing in poverty hos hes a plutocrat and a pauper at the same time fate has made an ass of him she has given him all the cash he asked for or but she omitted the ormula formula that gives it value ile he has the lock b but ut he be cant find the key he know what to do with his money ile he Is a lineal descendant 0 of king midas he learned the golden touch but he cant control its power in his bis madness for millions he has transmuted all the realities of life into useless trash he placed his springtime in the minting press he be turned all his hopes hope and all his bis visions into coln coin stamped all the tenderness out of 0 his heart and muted milled the peace of his soul year by year he be went on amassing wealth and just as steadily losing all that was best in him all that was kindly all that was joyous he turned to dross no now in his silver age he Is yearning for or his golden youth there Is an ache that he understand der stand a hungry hole in his breast where godly heritages shriveled and died from disuse he cant enjoy himself he trained for the job his rapacity destroyed his bis rapacity capacity to comprehend the big message he fie owns a a yacht but its a drifting argosy with dead sails with all his wealth he cant make it carry him into the land of dreams he cant see he cant hear greed has dulled his eye made him color blind none of the tb e wonders of life has a meaning for him the mountain summits are bare the flowers have died on the slopes and the north winds have locked the brooks and silenced the waterfall he is a man without illusions a moral cripple a croesus starving in his treasure vaults when you were wrapping yourself in ideals he be was rapping our ideas you have only sold your services he has put every drop of his blood into the market and the joke of it all Is that he had to wait until winter be farahe found that every dollar Is not the same size that its purchasing power varies with the individual ile he has overpaid no man gets out of existence more than his legitimate allotment it if he gains in one direction he be loses a compensating something in another way the price of the kings crown Is heavy with heartache the meanest subject in his bis kingdom can marry as he wills but the mightiest of monarchs must mate at the dictate of the state the embezzler delp defaults tilts with prop erty that he bo did not earn but from that moment every hour of every day is haunted with the dread of detection the rol roisterer indulges himself in every whim and w willfulness but settles the bill when his wasted vitality exposes him to disease against which the continent man has stored stord sufficient energy to defend himself old john moneybags has the price of every form of enjoyment but he be cant locate the trails that load lead to happiness it the size of a mans roll but the size of a mans soul that counts womans comans world |