What galled him was the oft repeated warning, 'You can't take it with you.' After all, it was all his. There were other words, less gentle, he'd also heard himself called. He knew he was a mangy, stingy, penny-pinching screw, scrimp, scraper, pinchfist, hoarder, and curmudgeon (just to start with). You can't take it with you, you know.' Uncle Basil had heard all the words they called him because he wasn't as deaf as he made out. Think what fun you'd have, and you can certainly afford it. 'Why don't you buy a sensible house out in the country, and we could all come and visit you? Horses.

'You can't take it with you, Uncle Basil,' they said. 'I need a new fur but he said, 'Why? It's summer.' Well! He's mangy, that's what he is.' 'He can't take it with him' was a phrase the family used so often it began to slip out in front of Uncle Basil as well. They might get back to him.' 'He can't take it with him,' said Percival's sister Letitia, combing her golden hair. 'But you shouldn't use rude words, Percival. 'He doesn't have to be so stingy, that's true, with all he has,' said Percival's mother. The rest had used up all the other words in the dictionary. Percival, having again smashed his Aston Martin for which he had not paid, had declared Uncle Basil a skinflint, a miser, Tightwad, churl, and usurer with colorful adjectives added. Gentle Aunt Clotilda, who wanted a new string of pearls because the one she had was getting old, had merely called him Scrooge Basil.

They had used up all the words as their temper and their need of ready money dictated. 1 You Can't Take it with You by Eva-lis Wuorio There was no denying two facts.

The Singing Silence by Eva-Lis Wuorio