broke down. It was pitiful to see them at
the meeting of the shareholders of insolvent
companies, asking, as ruined men, how the
money had been lost; and it made the blood
boil to hear the friends of the great firm
answering nonchalantly from the platform,
they were sure they could not say how it had
been lost. It was more pitiful still, to listen
to the examinations of these ruined men in
the Bankruptcy Courts, where they appeared,
as their judges declared, from no fault of their
own, and only in consequence of (the phrase
is finely vague) "the pressure of the times."
Many of them gave confused answers out of
bewildered heads. " They had grown old,"
they said, "and their memories were not
good." They were not old in years; but,
after saving thirty years, they had invested a
few thousand pounds: quite recently, they
were sure they were solvent, and now they
knew they were in debt, and could not pay.
Death gave his kindly protection to many of
these men. It was then that the most pitiful
thing of all was seen: the friends of the ruined
families begging the wealthy members of the
Bubble fraternity to give alms to prevent the
orphans from starving, until they could find
ways of supporting themselves.

The capital acquired by the great firm was
managed by Mr. Bill. His special department
was their banking business. The great
company opened accounts with several banks.
Hospitable to a fault, the country seat of Mr.
Wyndham Bill might have been described as
a rural boarding-house for the entertainment
of the partners and cashiers, directors and
managers, of banking companies. He made
things pleasant for them on Sundays and
holidays, in the country, and they made things
pleasant for him on week-days in town. He
could turn any paper he liked into gold. He
organised a system of credit all round the
globe, which consisted in the transmutation
of paper into the precious metals. His paper
was always cashed, and sure to be cashed; he
stood so well with his bankers. Mr. Wyndham
Bill, it was said, boyishly and playfully,
could always fly his kites. Mr. Wyndham
Bill had an odd fancy for odd sums. His bills
were always drawn for odd pounds, odd
shillings, and odd pence. They wore the impress
of the transactions of keen, calculating men,
knowing well how farthings make pounds.
Mysterious agents found everywhere for Mr.
Bill, mythical persons in business who
promised to pay thousands of pounds upon
exactly specified days, for goods which never
existed. The mysterious agents and the
mythical business-men asked nothing for their
pains and risks, but a small per-centage upon
each pound. Mr. Wyndham Bill preferred to
have on his paper the names of firms rather
than the names of individuals, as looking
more business-like. But, of the persons who
accommodated him with thousands of pounds
he knew nothing. He believed they had shops,
or offices. Respecting, for instance, Kyte and
Papyrus, he could not tell whether Kyte was
both Kyte and Papyrus, or Papyrus both
Papyrus and Kyte. Phlymsey and Hyde
were certainly partners, as could be proved
by their marriage certificate.

While Dazzlem gave splendour, and Bubble
and Bill buoyancy, to the firm; the ballast, such
as it was, Drainem supplied. Everybody who
came near Drainem became, somehow or
other, his orange, which he squeezed and flung
away. When he was a boy at school, having
an old and common knife, while another boy
had just received a present of a new and rare
knife, Drainem effected a barter, giving in
exchange for the fine knife, his own bad knife,
and an apple, upon a hot thirsty day. Strange
stories were told by infatuated individuals,
who had become exasperated individuals,
respecting Drainem, and silly women with
money: to explain how Drainem first became
a capitalist. When he first had creditors to
a considerable amount, he made a composition
with them, and they accepted anything
he offered to keep the young man and themselves
out of the clutches of the lawyers.
In due course of time, he was a member of
the finance committee of almost everything
in Doem, which had anything to do with
finance. He became a candidate for all situations
which were highly paid, because they
were situations of trust; and Bill, Bubble, and
Dazzlem were always ready to be security for
him to any amount. When little past the
prime of life, he was the mightiest of the
mighty in the Doem Bank. For long years
the Doem Bank was deemed the very type
of financial solidity. The children, when they
wished to asseverate anything in Doem, said,
"As sure as death," but their elders said,
"As sure as the bank." There spread,
however, one morning an astounding rumour,—
"Mr. Drainem has run away, and taken all
the money in the bank with him." The
documents he had deposited, it was, however,
asserted by his friends, were amply sufficient
to make all right; and when the documents
were examined by lynx-eyed lawyers, they
were discovered to be worthless.

The great company burst. When the
accounts of the bank were examined, it was
found that all the members of the families
of the great firm had overdrawn their
accounts to the amount of millions. Moreover,
it was found that the law could not
lay hold of any of them. They had been
much too sharp for that. The dividends of
their estates were counted by farthing, in
the pound. When the financial statements
of the finance committees of Doem were
tested by a comparison with effects, the
revelations were appalling and distressing.
It was at least thought that the insolvents—
to use the amiable word employed to describe
them—could be expelled by the indignant
probity of Doem from the Chamber of
Commerce. Insolvency was in itself, by an old
rule, expulsion; but the great firm had,