“But the plan could not be tried on a coffee plantation, son—that is the worst of it. If we lived in the neighbourhood of a large town, I would attempt it on a small scale. Some of my slaves should let their labour, paying me a weekly tribute, and keeping whatever they earned over and above. This is done in places south and west of us on this continent, as a Spanish friend of mine was telling me lately.” “Suppose we try task work instead, father?” “I have no other objection than this, son. If the experiment did not answer, there would be no getting the slaves back to the present system.” “A strong argument against the present system, father; but not the less true for that: suppose then we try with some new employment. If the blacks are as stupid as they are thought to be here, we need not fear their carrying the principle out any farther than we wish. Suppose we make bricks by task-work. Why should we import them, when we have abundance of brick clay on the estate and labour to spare?” “It has been found to answer better to import them.” “Who says so?” “Mr. Herbert, my old neighbour. He had not straw enough, to be sure, growing, as he does little besides sugar.” “Ah; the bounty is all in all with these sugar-growers, father. They keep their eye fixed on that bounty, and give no other article of production a fair chance. Besides, I suppose he did not try task-work?” “Not he. But consider, Alfred, how very little the freight is; and then, there is the fuel.” “The fuel is easily had; and a ton of coal will serve for eight tons of bricks. We are better supplied with straw than if we raised sugars only; and the apparatus is not expensive. Only consider, father: the labour of your slaves, at present, does not average more than fifteen-pence a day; and brickmakers, in England, make from five to seven shillings a day. Do let me try whether, by working by count, we cannot raise the value of our slave-labour, and save the expense of importation.” “But, my dear son, we do not want bricks enough to make it worth while.” “Our neighbours want them as well as ourselves; and it may answer well to withdraw a permanent portion of labour from our coffee-walks and transfer it to our brick-field. The art is not difficult, and the climate is most favourable, so confidently as we may reckon on the absence of heavy rains for weeks together.” “Well; we will see about it, son.” “I give you warning, father,” said Alfred, laughing, “that I shall not be content with one experiment. If we save by brickmaking, I shall propose our making the bagging and packages for our coffee at home, instead of paying so high as we do for them.” “Nay, Alfred; what becomes of your boasted principle of the division of labour?”