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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 24, 1913, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-07-24/ed-1/seq-14/

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THE FOXY FARMER, THE FOOLISH BOY, THE
FRESH EGG AND MILWAUKEE AV. STORES
There was once a farmer who acquired considerable land. He was
fairly human in the beginning. He paid his farm-hands well and fed them
wholesome food, plentiful in supply.
But, as his money piled up, he began to figure that perhaps he could
accumulateeven more if he were less considerate. And so he cut down on
the men's rations, and he cut down on their hours of sleep until only those
forced by necessity remained with him.
But still he was not content. "The men I have now are married and
keep their families. If J could get younger men, boys who have no respon
sibilities, I could get the same work and pay them less."
And so he went to an institution and got two boys.
The boys were both orphans and they had been in the gray walls of the
orphanage since their earliest memory, so it was with delight that they
viewed the fact they were to be put
out into the world to earn money.
They talked of the clothes they
would buy, the places they would see,
and the weaker of the two remem
bered he had promised "one of the
kids back there" that he would send
him a toy engine.
But the farmer paid them no
money. Was he not clothing them
of course with the cheapest rags?
Was he not feeding them of course
with the cheapest food?
The boys grew thin and weak, yet
they still toiled on, long after the
sun, weary of the things he saw on
earth, drifted behind the clouds and
went to sleep.
"We must have food," was the con
stant cry of the weak one whenever
the strong one would mumble his
hatred of the farmer, or would follow
him with sullen eyes.
"We could run away," the strong
one would suggest.
"Yes," the weak one would whis
per, lest he be overheard, "but we
don't know what is out there in the
place beyond this. Perhaps we
would starve."
The food they ate grew coarser,
their hours pf rest were less. The
stronger of the two plotted again.
"It couldn't be worse anywhere
than it is here. And it might be bet
ter. It needs only the courage to get
away from this slave-master. And
maybe, when he sees we are men
and not cowards, he will pay us the
wage of men, fr no one work
so hard as we and get so little."
But the weak one replied: "Listen,
there is the dinner bell. They will
call us when the family are through
eating and we will get the scraps
but we are sure of the scraps."
The stronger one mocked. "Fool,
he said, "eat your scraps If they con
tent your little soul. I would rather
starve free of this slave-master than
live under his control. And I shall
not starve, for there is plenty in the
world if a man is only brave enough
to fight for it. I would have taken
you with me, for two are stronger
than one, but If you will not, I must
away."
"They call us to the scraps," the
timid one made answer.
Seeing the one boy alone, the
farmer growled.
"Where is the other?"
"He has run away," the timid one
made answer. "He says he is going
to hunt a place where he gets more
food and more rest and that there is
none worse than .this. He wanted me
to go with him."
The farmer's face grew red
with passion. He longed to sting the
lad's shoulders with the whip, but his
scheming brain told him this would
only arouse rebellion he must win
loyalty.
"Thou art a good lad to remain,'

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