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"From time to time, we wish to reward our website fans of Jonathan Gullible with some material that was excluded from the latest edition of the book. One chapter that was somewhat too gloomy to be included was called "Chapter 12: Opportunity Lost." It was intended to be a parody of Bastiat's famous tale of "The Broken Glass." This chapter seems especially relevant today, as there are people who still say that war is healthy for the economy."-K.S.

OPPORTUNITY LOST

"She's the most effective rabble rouser ever elected."

Jonathan spun around to see a middle-aged man sprawled over a doorstep, braced on one elbow. His short-brimmed hat was tipped back and his dark, three-piece suit looked filthy and smelled worse. Patches on the knees of his pant legs were starting to fray. A salty gray stubble grew on his face, indicating that he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. One hand still clung to a bottle that was dry as a bone and now served mostly to keep him propped against the wall.

"Tweed's the best I've ever seen," he continued drowsily. "She can really stir up a crowd."

Jonathan moved closer to listen, but wasn't sure he wanted to encourage this derelict. True enough, this gentleman bum didn't need encouragement to repeat a story he had probably recounted a dozen times to himself. "After her rip-roaring speech, the crowd was mighty angry," he said shaking his head. "Then a kid, little Ricco, Jr., hurled a stone at a window over there. When the glass shattered, the mob dropped silent. Yeah, not a peep at first. They knew it was wrong to destroy things, but they were excited."

The bum sensed that this young man was actually listening. He hiccuped and continued, "Then Tweed, she was right in the middle of 'em, said that Ricco had done the community a great service. Said they all owed the boy a debt of gratitude. She said the factory owner would now have to buy new windows from the glazier. Everyone in the crowd was real attentive; just itchin' for an excuse to throw more stones. Tweed tells 'em 'Sure, go ahead! With each…(hic)… stone and broken glass, the glazier will have a new order for a window, a new job for a worker, and a new demand for tools. Then each worker will have more kayns to spend on shoes for his children. So more jobs for shoemakers and the shoemakers will have more to spend on leather and stitching'-and so on and on."

The man doubled over and wheezed at length like a sickly beast. Regaining his composure, he took a deep breath and shifted his weight. Then the cat, Mices, appeared and rubbed up against the bum's arm, teasing the man to pet him.

The bum laughed to himself, stroking the cat. "They raised Ricco high on their shoulders. They cheered the proud kid and followed his example by throwing more stones. By morning there wasn't a whole window left on the block. They would've gone on to the rest of the town except they wanted to save their strength for the next rampage." The man breathed hard, trying to catch his breath.

As the bum spoke, he was winding down, barely finishing a sentence before passing out. With every few words his weary head would fall back and then bob forward again. He pried his eyes open with one more ounce of strength, slowly uttering, "They see the spending, but miss the unseen. What else could have been done…(hic)…to create new things…instead of replacing all those broken windows? That was my factory."