And all the fine places that the wealth o' men ever evolved winna begin to compare with the work o' God, and I've got that around me every day." "But I want to see life," wailed Jimmy.
"Then open your eyes, mon, fra the love o' mercy, open your eyes! There's life sailing over your heid in that flock o' crows going home fra the night.

Why dinna ye, or some other mon, fly like that?
There's living roots, and seeds, and insects, and worms by the million wherever ye are setting foot.

Why dinna ye creep into the earth and sleep through the winter, and renew your life with the spring?
The trouble with ye, Jimmy, is that ye've always followed your heels.

If ye'd stayed by the books, as I begged ye, there now would be that in your heid that would teach ye that the old story of the Rainbow is true.
There is a pot of gold, of the purest gold ever smelted, at its foot, and we've been born, and own a good living richt there.

An' the gold is there; that I know, wealth to shame any bilious millionaire, and both of us missing the pot when we hold the location.