“’Tis something ye wudden’t be ixpected to know, said Mr. Dooley.  ’Tis what is known as credit.  I’ll explain it to ye.  F’r the sake iv argymint well say ye’re a shoemaker.  Oh, ‘tis on’y f’r th’ sake iv argymint.  Iverywan knows that a burly fellow like you wudden’t be at anny employmint as light an’ effiminate as makin’ shoes.  But supposin’ fr th’ sake iv argymint ye’re a shoemaker.  Ye get two dollars a day f’r makin’ forty dollars’ worth iv shoes.  Ye take part of ye’er ill-gotten gains an’ leave it with me f’r dhrink.  Afther awhile, I take th’ money over to th’ shoe store an’ buy wan iv th’ pairs iv shoes ye made.  Th’ fellow at th’ shoe store puts th’ money in a bank owned be ye’er boss.  Ye’er boss sees ye’re dhrinkin’ a good deal an’ be th’ look iv things th’ distillery business ought to improve.  So he lends th’ money to a distiller.  Wan day th’ banker obsarves that ye’ve taken th’ pledge, an’ havin’ fears f’r th’ distilling business, he gets his money back.  I owe th’ distiller money an’ he comes to me.  I have paid out me money f’r th’ shoes an’ th’ shoe-store man has put it in th’ bank.  He goes over to th’ bank to get it out an’ has his fingers cut off in a window.  An’ there ye are.  That’s credit.

“I niver knew befure how little it depinded on.  There’s Grogan th’ banker.  He’s a great man.  Look at his bank.  It looks as though an earthquake wudden’t flutter it.  It’s a cross between an armory an’ a jail.  It frowns down upon th’ sthreet.  An’ Grogan.  He looks as solid as though th’ columns iv th’ building was quarried out iv him.  See him with his goold watch chain clankin’ again th’ pearl buttons iv his vest.  He niver give me much more thin a nod out iv th’ north-east corner iv his left eyebrow, but he was always very kind an’ polite to Mulligan, th’ little tailor.  Except that I thought he had a feelin’ iv respect f’r me an’ none at all f’r Mulligan.  Th’ other mornin’ I see him standin’ on a corner near th’ bank as Mulligan dashed by with a copy iv his fav’rite journal in wan hand an’ a pass book in th’ other.  ’That man is a coward,’ says Mulligan.  ‘Tis th’ likes iv him that desthroys public confidence,’ says he.  ’He must’ve been brave at wan peeryod iv his life,’ says I.  ‘Whin was that?’ says he.  ‘Whin he put th’ money in,’ says I.  ‘It’s th’ likes iv him that makes panics,’ says he.  ‘It’s th’ likes iv both iv ye,’ says I.  ‘I niver see such team wurruk,’ says I.  ‘That bank is a perfectly solvint institution,’ says he.  ’It’s as sthrong as th’ rock of Gibyraltar.  I’m goin’ over now to close it up,’ says he.  An’ he wint.

“Well, glory be, ‘tis no use botherin’ our heads about it.  Panics an’ circuses, as Father Kelly says, are f’r th’ amusement iv th’ poor.  An’ a time iv this kind is fine f’r ivrybody who hasn’t too much.  A little while ago ye niver r-read in th’ pa-aper annything about th’ fellow that had his money in th’ bank anny more thin ye’d read about th’ spectators at a prize fight.  ‘Twas