A young lad, a sharp boy, had been my guide
to two or three places and carried my bag for me. I offered him pay, for
pay had been expected from me by every one with whom I came in contact
from the moment I landed. Tears came into the poor lad's eyes with
mortified anger. One feels bad to hurt anyone's feelings, and between
those who have a desire for a gift and are hurt if they do not get one,
and those to whom offering a gift is the worst form of insult, one is
sometimes puzzled to know what to do.
I find a very strong feeling in some places where I have been in
connection with the contempt which some owners of the soil feel for the
cultivators of it. A landlord--lately an attorney in a country town--
who has succeeded, most unexpectedly, to a great estate, takes no pains
to conceal the contempt in which he holds his tenants. He sauntered into
a shop, also the post-office of the town, and in the course of
conversation informed them that his tenantry were a lazy lot of
blackguards. Two of his tenants were present standing in the shop. He
did not know them, but they knew him. To the eyes of an outsider like
myself the tenants seemed the more gentlemanly of the two parties.
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