Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Having seated themselves and dragged a bench before them they looked
about while waiting to be served. It was evidently a poor shop,
Komodoflorensal told Tarzan, catering to the slave caste and the poorer
warriors, of which there were several sitting at benches in different
parts of the room. By their harness and apparel, which was worn and
shabby, one might easily guess at their poverty. In the adjoining shop
were several more of the same class of unfortunate warriors mending
their own clothes with materials purchased from the poor shopkeeper.
The meal was served by a slave in a white tunic of very cheap material,
who was much surprised when payment for the meal and the service was
offered in gold.
"It is seldom," he said, "that warriors rich enough to possess gold
come to our poor shop. Pieces of iron and bits of lead, with much
wooden money, pass into my coffers; but rarely do I see gold. Once I
did, and many of my customers were formerly of the richest of the city.
Yonder see that tall man with the heavily wrinkled face. Once he was
rich--the richest warrior in his dome. Look at him now! And see them
in the next room performing menial services, men who once owned slaves
so prosperous that they, in turn, hired other slaves to do the meaner
duties for them. Victims, all of them, of the tax that Elkomoelhago has
placed upon industry.
"To be poor," he continued, "assures one an easier life than being
rich, for the poor have no tax to pay, while those who work hard and
accumulate property have only their labor for their effort, since the
government takes all from them in taxes.
"Over there is a man who was very rich. He worked hard all his life and
accumulated a vast fortune. For several years after Elkomoelhago's new
tax law was enforced, he struggled to earn enough to insure that his
income would be at least equal to his taxes and the cost of his living;
but he found that it was impossible. He had one enemy, a man who had
wronged him grievously. This man was very poor, and to him he gave
all of what remained of his great fortune and his property. It was a
terrible revenge. From being a contented man, this victim of another's
spleen is now a haggard wreck, laboring unceasingly eighteen hours each
day in a futile attempt to insure himself an income that will defray
his taxes."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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