Last day the world would be turned upside down; in which case he
should find his horse standing ready for mounting, and he was
determined at the worst to give his old friend a run for it. This,
however, is probably a mere old wives' fable. If he really did take
such a precaution it was totally superfluous; at least so says the
authentic old legend, which closes his story in the following manner:
On one hot afternoon in the dog days, just as a terrible black
thunder-gust was coming up, Tom sat in his counting-house in his white
linen cap and India silk morning-gown. He was on the point of
foreclosing a mortgage, by which he would complete the ruin of an
unlucky land speculator for whom he had professed the greatest
friendship. The poor land jobber begged him to grant a few months'
indulgence. Tom had grown testy and irritated and refused another day.
"My family will be ruined and brought upon the parish," said the land
jobber.
"Charity begins at home," replied Tom, "I must take care of myself in
these hard times."
"You have made so much money out of me," said the speculator.
Tom lost his patience and his piety - "The devil take me," said he, "if
I have made a farthing!"
Just then there were three loud knocks at the street door.
