More W. C. Fields (from The Bank Dick): Egbert = Fields.
Egbert: I met a poor fellow who’s in trouble. Something the matter with his grandmother’s paisley shawl. He has 5,000 shares in the Beefsteak Mine and you can buy them for a handful of hay.
Og: Hay? And they’re worth…?
Egbert: Ten cents a share. Telephone sold for five cents a share. How would you like something better for ten cents a share? If five gets ya ten, ten’ll get ya twenty. A beautiful home in the country, upstairs and down. Beer flowing through the estate over your grandmother’s paisley shawl.
Egbert: Beer! Fishing in the stream that runs under the aboreal dell. A man comes up from the bar, dumps $3,500 in your lap for every nickel invested. Says to you, ‘Sign here on the dotted line.’ And then disappears in the weaving fields of alfalfa.
Og: Gosh! Do you think he was telling the truth?
Egbert: You don’t think a man would resort to terra-diddle, do you? Why, he sounded like a child at the very thought of disposing of these shares. How does the bank make its money?
Og: By investing.
Egbert: That’s the point. You don’t want to work all your life. Take a chance. Take it while you’re young.
Egbert: My uncle, a balloon ascensionist, Effingham Hoofnagle, took a chance. He was three miles and a half up in the air. He jumped out of the basket of the balloon and took a chance of landing on a load of hay.
Og: Golly! Did he make it?
Egbert: Uh, no…He didn’t. Had he been a younger man, he probably would have made it. That’s the point. Don’t wait too long in life.
Og: I’ve never done anything like this. And another thing, I haven’t got the money. Of course, my bonus comes due in four days. That’s $500. I could buy 'em then, and then with all that money, why, I really might be worthy of your daughter’s hand.
Egbert: Women really appreciate the fine things in life. You don’t wanna die and leave your wife and children paupers, do ya?
Egbert: Borrow the $500 from the bank. You intend to pay it back when your bonus comes due, don’t ya?
Og: Well, sure.
Egbert: Surely, don’t be a luddie-duddie, don’t be a moon-calf, don’t be a jabbernow, you’re not those, are you?