January 18, 2019, by Jem

A Success Story: Accumulating Wealth as a Student

It is a total tragedy that the typical student lacks any ambition to generate big bucks during their time at university. I follow the mantra: “Begin to make millions imminently” and now am a tycoon within the blacksmithing industry. Sure, the slogan was of great assistance, but how did I do it? How did I, whilst in the thick of my studies, come to earn shedloads via a profession perceived to be medieval and nigh-on-extinct?

As a thinker, I’m liable to take a stroll to facilitate my ponderings and the birth of entrepreneurial plans. The stroll integral to this story took place on the Sussex Downs. I had just entered a field with my terrier when the little rascal began to bark incessantly. Prior to this display of savagery, he had been peaceful. In fact, I had discovered a certain kinship in his quietness; I felt as though he, too, was meditating on each cloud and branch.

His berserk outburst, consequently, left me feeling betrayed and hugely disappointed. Though I must confess to engaging in a little outburst of my own: “You think you know someone…” were the words I roared at that hound. After some time, I tore away my scowl from the beast to survey my surroundings and the cause of his yapping became apparent. Pigs. I didn’t know it then, but these creatures were to become my clientele.

I proceeded through the field with caution for I wasn’t certain as to whether swine were prone to charge at humankind, or whether their little legs were even capable of an explosive advance. The size of their carriages alone wrote nimbleness out of the equation— but this is by the by, the trough is why we are here.

I heard the clang of a metal gate ahead and observed a horseman riding towards me. Things between the terrier and I were still tense, which the mutt recognised and had the sense to remain mute. It just so happened that the horseman and I passed one another by a trough in the use of a single staunch swine. He gave his greetings, but I could only croak in response.

I had grown quite tearful, you see, from a sight that has made me millions. The lone pig had removed his face from the fodder and through his unkempt muck jungle of a facial beard, I perceived two small eyes utterly fixated upon the horses’ hooves. How two little circles were able to move me so entirely is beyond my comprehension; the only parallel I can imagine would be the discovery of two one-pound coins upon a pavement.

What I saw in those eyes was an envy-tinged sadness of an unspeakable depth. It was plainly deduced from the remarkable circles that a yearning existed within that pig, a yearning for something horses have, and it does not. Amidst the cacophony of thuds and clops that resounded on the hard path, it fell upon me then that I must forge horseshoes for pig feet.

In the year that has passed since the incident, I have established an empire of forges throughout the Midlands, each with a brute manning the anvil, smashing swineshoes into shape to be sold by the million. Of course the money is excellent, but above all the wealth, iron, and glory, it is my dearest of hopes that a set of swineshoes has found its way into the possession of that miracle pig. Perhaps, with the grip and swiftness that swineshoes bring, the Lord of the trough may break free of the lethargy his little legs and unhealthy carriage have confined him to throughout his life.

A profound smile graces my face whenever I envisage that hog’s trotters gaining excellent purchase on the path I once trod. Allow this blissful vision to inspire you. Begin to make millions imminently. Go. Hurry with the essence of the swineshoe; before you were stagnant, now you may charge.

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