Now is this fair, Pluto,—that I should die at the age of thirty, and that old Thucritus go on living past ninety?

Nothing could be fairer. Thucritus lives and is in no hurry for his neighbours to die; whereas you always had some design against him; you were waiting to step into his shoes.

Well, an old man like that is past getting any enjoyment out of his money; he ought to die, and make room for younger men.

This is a novel principle: the man who can no longer derive pleasure from his money is to die!—Fate and Nature have ordered it otherwise.