Thousands of men have sacrificed honor and religion for luxuries, and died with the freezer about their ears.
Young Catchem has one horse, but wants six.

Lives in a nice house on Thirtieth street, but wants one on Madison Square.

Has one beautiful wife, but wants four.

Owns a hundred thousand dollars of Erie stock, but wants a million.

Plunges his head into schemes of all sorts, eats his way to the bottom of the can till he cannot extricate himself, and constables, and sheriffs, and indignant society, which would have said nothing had he been successful, go to pounding him because he cannot get his head out.
Our poor old Carlo is dead now.