Jim and Rammy divvy up with me on my end, if any.

That right?
I say; let the doc and Mabel have a half-share each of anything our end amounts to." Well, it took about as long to settle that business as you'd expect.
The doctor and Mabel protested, but it's easier to give away a fortune that is still in prospect than a small sum that is really tangible--I mean between folk who stand on their own feet.

It doesn't seem to deprive the giver of much, or to strain the pride of the recipient unduly.
I've been given shares in unproven El Doradoes times out of number, and could paper the wall of, say, a good-sized bathroom with the stock certificates--may do it some day if I ever settle down.

But the only gift of that sort that I ever knew to pay dividends, except to the printer of the gilt-edged scrip, is Jeremy's gold mine; and you'll look in vain for any mention of that in the stock exchange lists.

The time to get in on that good thing was that night by Mabel Ticknor's teapot in Jerusalem.
It was nearly midnight before we had everything settled, and there was still a lot to do before we could catch the morning train.