“I have sold my farm,” said Samson to his old friend the evening of his arrival.

“Did you get a good price?” Mr. Lincoln asked.

“All that my conscience would allow me to take,” said Samson.  “The man offered me three dollars an acre in cash and ten dollars in notes.  We compromised on seven dollars, all cash.”

“It’s a mistake to sell now.  The river is going to be deepened and improved for navigation.”

“I’ve made up my mind that it can’t be done, unless you can invent a way to run a steamboat on moist ground,” said Samson.  “You might as well try to make a great man out of ‘Colonel Lukins.’  It hasn’t the water-shed.  To dig a deep channel for the Sangamon would be like sending ’Colonel Lukins’ to Harvard.  We’re going too fast.  We have little to sell yet but land.  The people are coming to us in great numbers, but most of them are poor.  We must give them time to settle down and create something and increase the wealth of the state.  Then we shall have a solid base to build upon; then we shall have the confidence of the capital we require for improvements.  Now I fear that we are building on the sands.”

“Don’t you think that our bonds would sell in the East?”

“No; because we have only used our lungs in all these plans of ours.  No one has carefully considered the cost.  For all we know, it may cost more than the entire wealth of the state to put through the improvements already planned.  The eastern capitalists will want to know about costs and security.  Undoubtedly Illinois is sure to be a great state.  But we’re all looking at the day of greatness through a telescope.  It seems to be very near.  It isn’t.  It’s at least ten years in the future.”

Young Mr. Lincoln looked very grave for a moment.  Then he laughed and said:  “I don’t know but we’re all a lot of fools.  I begin to suspect myself.  The subject of finance is new to me.  I don’t know much about it, but I’m sure if I were to say what you have said, in the House of Representatives, they would throw me out-of-doors.”

“Just at present the House is a kind of insane asylum,” said Samson.  “You’ll have to stick to the procession now.  The road is so crowded that nobody can turn around.  The folly of the state is so unanimous no one will be more to blame than another when the crash comes.  You have meant well, anyhow.”

“You make me feel young and inexperienced.”

“You are generally wise, Abe, but there’s one thing you don’t know—­that’s the use of capital.  For two years Sarah and I have been studying the subject of finance.”

“I’ve seen too little of you in the last year or so,” said the young statesman.  “What are you going to do now that you have sold out?”

“I was thinking of going up to Tazewell County.”