He was soon to find it. The treasurer led him to the money jars and with a knowing wink remarked, »That stuffy pitch about enjoying one's work is only wind up the chimney. There is another element in my work that has helped me to live longer than anyone in the Vale, and I think I have found it right here!«
He jumped into a money jar and started burrowing among the coins.
»I love money,« the old treasurer shouted. »I love the feel of it and the smell of it, and I love to dive around in it like a porpoise and burrow through it like a gopher and to toss it up and let it hit me on the head!«
Uncle Scrooge reeled as he assimilated the rich juices of the treasurer's word.
»And you want to know something real secrety?« the old treasurer gloated. »There's something in the metal of the coins that rubs off on me -«
He didn't get to tell how much the »something« rejuvenated him every day. Uncle Scrooge was already leaving, bound for home.
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