"What good would it do me? Are ye askin' what good would goold do me?
Sure, then, wouldn't I pick up all of it I could carry, and wouldn't I
take land wid it and pay rent and buy stock for a big farm and grow as
rich as Damer? What good would goold be? Ha! Ha! What couldn't you do
in a country where ye could be pickin' up goold in the street?"
"There's no gold to be picked up in the streets there, any more than
here," said the old woman, "and if there was, it would be no use to
you. Only suppose, now, that you had picked up all the gold you could
carry, and that you wanted to buy a loaf of bread with it. And suppose
you went into a baker's shop and chose even the smallest loaf of bread
you could find, and threw down a whole gold sovereign for it--aye, or
a hundred gold sovereigns. Would the baker sell you the bread for your
gold, do you think? Wouldn't he say to you: 'Go on out of this, for
the silly Irishman that you are! What for would I be giving you good
bread for that gold of yours, when I can pick up as much and as good
as that any minute here before my own door and keep my bread as well?'
If you could find gold in the street, it would be worth no more than
the stones that you find there.
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