Illustrations of political economy, Volume 2 (of 9)Martineau, Harriet
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Illustrations of political economy, Volume 2 (of 9)
Martineau, Harriet
Didactic fiction, English; Political fiction, English; Social problems -- Fiction
“He is lazy, sir, as usual: and as usual, he says that he is a very bad
labourer and never was worth much to his master; but he can work hard
enough in his provision-ground. Nobody brings so many vegetables and
pigs to market as Cassius.”
“How is this, Cassius?” said Alfred.
Cassius only repeated what he had said about the impossibility that he
should do much work, as he had always been a bad slave for labour.
At this moment the gong sounded the hour of dinner. The overseer went
away. Cassius slowly walked off, as it happened, in the same direction
that Alfred was going. When he had reached the shade, the slave looked
behind him to see that the overseer was not observing him, and then
quickened his pace almost to a run. Alfred tied his horse to a tree,
followed him, and reached his provision-ground a very few minutes after
him. Cassius was already at work, digging as if he were toiling for
wages.
Alfred laughed good-humouredly as he asked Cassius what he said now
about the impossibility of his working like other people.
Cassius put on a sullen look while he answered, “You may ask my master,
and he will tell you that he has always had trouble with me. When I was
a youth, I never liked work, and I have done less and less ever since. I
am worth very little to him. I have been whipped five times since last
crop, and I got into the stocks many times last year. I eat more than my
work pays for.”
“Then I wonder your master keeps you. Don’t you?”
“I wonder he puts such a high ransom upon me. It is too high for such an
one as I.”
“And are you working out your ransom, Cassius?”
“I am trying, sir. But I shall have eaten more than it is worth before I
get money to pay it.”
“Now,” thought Alfred, “I understand the meaning of this extraordinary
humility, and of old Mark’s and Becky’s conceit, too,” he added, as he
remembered what had passed in the morning; “they wish to enhance their
own value, from a suspicion that they will change masters one of these
days; and Cassius depreciates his, because he hopes to get off with a
lower ransom. Dreadful! that human beings should rate their own value
according to the depth of another man’s purse! They seem, too, to have
no idea of natural disinterested kindness; for Mark and Becky took all
the merit of my father’s little indulgences to themselves. They seemed
to think they must be much better than their neighbour Harry, because my
father roofed their cottage after the storm, while Harry was obliged to
wait till he could repair his himself. How this world is turned upside
down when slaves are in it!”
“Come, Cassius,” he said aloud, “I am not your master, and I am not
going to speak to your master about you.”
“You do not want to buy me?” inquired Cassius, looking inquisitively.
“Not I. I have no estate, and am not likely ever to want any slaves.”
“What did you follow me for then?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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