“My dear sir, it is useless to talk. I haven't anything against you, but I can't let my daughter marry a hash of love, art, and starvation--I believe you have nothing else to offer.”
“Sir, I am poor, I grant you. But is fame nothing? The Hon. Bellamy Foodle of Arkansas says that my new statue of America, is a clever piece of sculpture, and he is satisfied that my name will one day be famous.”
“Bosh! What does that Arkansas ass know about it? Fame's nothing--the market price of your marble scarecrow is the thing to look at. It took you six months to chisel it, and you can't sell it for a hundred dollars. No, sir! Show me fifty thousand dollars and you can have my daughter --otherwise she marries young Simper. You have just six months to raise the money in. Good morning, sir.”
