THE BANK

Evening Star, Issue 21748, 16 June 1934, Page 5

THE BANK

Jacob, who had earned a weekly wage just big enough to keep a large, hungry family from starving, was almost dumb with astonishment when he learned that an unknown relative bad died and left him his farm. Prom a tumbledown cottage to a substantial stone house, furnished with chairs and tables so rich and grand that Jacob’s family could only stand and gaze at them awe-struck, was a vast change, and almost too, much for such simple souls; but Jacob’s greatest worry was the news that lie hail not only inherited a farm, stock, and land, but £SOO lying in the town bank five miles away. " .

Like-many another old country man. in those days, Jacob had no faith in banks. He imagined them to be places where sacks and sacks of gold were kept in rows under counters, and ho firmly believed that if any of “ the young fellers ” behind the counters needed a little ready money all they had to do was to dip into the sacks. Such a thought was not to be endured, and, in spite of lawyer’s protests and parson’s warnings, Jacob saddled his horse, rode to the town, and insisted upon drawing out the whole of his fortune in good gold coin and bringing it home, for he vowed that the “ proper place for a men’s own brass was a mon’s own pocket.” Mrs Jacob agreed that banks were not to be trusted; but in her opinion neither were pockets; she was convinced that an old stocking under the mattress was the safest bank, arid it was there Jacob's'money went. The news that “ a puir widow woman acrost moor” had been robbed of a stocking full of savings put them into such panic that the money was distributed, some of it was hidden in an old teapot, some at the bottom of Mrs Jacob’s bonnet box, and a bag was put under a loose plank in the parlour floor. But Jacob distrusted parlours as much as banks, and he secretly took up the gold and hid it in a sack of corn in the granary. A short time after he was away for a few days selling his lambs, and when he returned he sat down to enjoy, a good Yorkshire tea. “There’s nobbut like tha’ bread, lass; town stuff’s just rubbish!” “ Ay, mori, but dinna ye go away agen and leave me without flour. I had to get sack o’eorn from granary to send to miller.” “Which sack, woman?”

, Jacob flew to the granary. The sack had gone, and the miller’s good mill-stones had ground Jacob’s gold into flour. It nearly killed the old couple. “To think, lass,” groaned Jacob, “that thrifty folk like you and me should sit down and eat money.”

“ Squire keeps his money in bank,” wept Mrs Jacob. “ Ay, lass. We’ll take the brass back to th’ bank and sleep in peace.”