the cold regions of the north, almost within the gloom and shadow of the arctic circle, sent him their tribute in the shape of furs; hot africa sifted for him the golden sands of her rivers, and gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out of the forests; the east came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, and teas, and the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of large pearls. the ocean, not to be behindhand with the earth, yielded up her mighty whales, that mr. gathergold might sell their oil, and make a profit of it. be the original commodity what it might, it was gold within his grasp. it might be said of him, as of midas in the fable, that whatever he touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited him still better, into piles of coin. and, when mr. gathergold had become so very rich that it would have taken him a hundred years only to count his wealth, he bethought himself of his native valley, and resolved to go back thither, and end his days where he was born. with this purpose in view, he sent a skilful architect to build him such a palace as should be fit for a man of his vast wealth to live in.