"There you go, Gabe Carnine; since you've moved to town and got to be president of a bank, you're mighty damn scared about making paupers.

When Christ told the young man to sell his goods and give them to the poor, He didn't tell him to be careful about making them paupers.

And Mr.Gabriel Carnine, Esquire, having the aroma of one large morning's drink on my breath emboldens me to say, that if you rich men will do your part in giving, the Lord will manage to keep His side of the traces from scraping on the wheel.

And if I had one more good nip, I'd say, which Heaven forbid, that you fellows are asking more of the Lord by expecting Him to save your shrivelled selfish little souls from hell-fire because of your squeeze-penny charities, than you would be asking by expecting Him to keep the poor from becoming paupers by the dribs you give them.
And if Mart Culpepper can give his time and his money every day helping them poor devils down by the track, niggers and whites, good and bad, male and female, I guess the Lord will put in lick for lick with Mart and see that his helping doesn't hurt them." Dolan shook his head at the banker, and then smiled at him good-naturedly as he finished, "Put that in your knapsack, you son of a gun, and chew on it till I see you again." Whereupon he turned a corner and went his way.
Carnine laughed rather unnaturally and said to McHurdie, "That's why he's never got on like the other boys.

Whiskey's a bad partner." McHurdie agreed, and went chuckling to his work, when Carnine turned into the bank.