A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court - Mark Twain (speld decodable readers TXT) 📗

a day! I count out the tailor, but not the others⁠—they are all allowed a cent a day, and in driving times they get more⁠—yes, up to a hundred and ten and even fifteen milrays a day. I’ve paid a hundred and fifteen myself, within the week. ’Rah for protection⁠—to Sheol with free trade!”

And his face shone upon the company like a sunburst. But I didn’t scare at all. I rigged up my pile-driver, and allowed myself fifteen minutes to drive him into the earth⁠—drive him all in⁠—drive him in till not even the curve of his skull should show above ground. Here is the way I started in on him. I asked:

“What do you pay a pound for salt?”

“A hundred milrays.”

“We pay forty. What do you pay for beef and mutton⁠—when you buy it?” That was a neat hit; it made the color come.

“It varieth somewhat, but not much; one may say seventy-five milrays the pound.”

“We pay thirty-three. What do you pay for eggs?”

“Fifty milrays the dozen.”

“We pay twenty. What do you pay for beer?”

“It costeth us eight and one-half milrays the pint.”

“We get it for four; twenty-five bottles for a cent. What do you pay for wheat?”

“At the rate of nine hundred milrays the bushel.”

“We pay four hundred. What do you pay for a man’s tow-linen suit?”

“Thirteen cents.”

“We pay six. What do you pay for a stuff gown for the wife of the laborer or the mechanic?”

“We pay eight cents, four mills.”

“Well, observe the difference: you pay eight cents and four mills, we pay only four cents.” I prepared now to sock it to him. I said: “Look here, dear friend, what’s become of your high wages you were bragging so about a few minutes ago?”⁠—and I looked around on the company with placid satisfaction, for I had slipped up on him gradually and tied him hand and foot, you see, without his ever noticing that he was being tied at all. “What’s become of those noble high wages of yours?⁠—I seem to have knocked the stuffing all out of them, it appears to me.”

But if you will believe me, he merely looked surprised, that is all! he didn’t grasp the situation at all, didn’t know he had walked into a trap, didn’t discover that he was in a trap. I could have shot him, from sheer vexation. With cloudy eye and a struggling intellect he fetched this out:

“Marry, I seem not to understand. It is proved that our wages be double thine; how then may it be that thou’st knocked therefrom the stuffing?⁠—an miscall not the wonderly word, this being the first time under grace and providence of God it hath been granted me to hear it.”

Well, I was stunned; partly with this unlooked-for stupidity on his part, and partly because his fellows so manifestly sided with him and were of his mind⁠—if you might call it mind. My position was simple enough, plain enough; how could it ever be simplified more? However, I must try:

“Why, look here, brother Dowley, don’t you see? Your wages are merely higher than ours in name, not in fact.”

“Hear him! They are the double⁠—ye have confessed it yourself.”

“Yes-yes, I don’t deny that at all. But that’s got nothing to do with it; the amount of the wages in mere coins, with meaningless names attached to them to know them by, has got nothing to do with it. The thing is, how much can you buy with your wages?⁠—that’s the idea. While it is true that with you a good mechanic is allowed about three dollars and a half a year, and with us only about a dollar and seventy-five⁠—”

“There⁠—ye’re confessing it again, ye’re confessing it again!”

“Confound it, I’ve never denied it, I tell you! What I say is this. With us half a dollar buys more than a dollar buys with you⁠—and therefore it stands to reason and the commonest kind of common sense, that our wages are higher than yours.”

He looked dazed, and said, despairingly:

“Verily, I cannot make it out. Ye’ve just said ours are the higher, and with the same breath ye take it back.”

“Oh, great Scott, isn’t it possible to get such a simple thing through your head? Now look here⁠—let me illustrate. We pay four cents for a woman’s stuff gown, you pay 8.4.0, which is four mills more than double. What do you allow a laboring woman who works on a farm?”

“Two mills a day.”

“Very good; we allow but half as much; we pay her only a tenth of a cent a day; and⁠—”

“Again ye’re conf⁠—”

“Wait! Now, you see, the thing is very simple; this time you’ll understand it. For instance, it takes your woman forty-two days to earn her gown, at two mills a day⁠—seven weeks’ work; but ours earns hers in forty days⁠—two days short of seven weeks. Your woman has a gown, and her whole seven weeks wages are gone; ours has a gown, and two days’ wages left, to buy something else with. There⁠—now you understand it!”

He looked⁠—well, he merely looked dubious, it’s the most I can say; so did the others. I waited⁠—to let the thing work. Dowley spoke at last⁠—and betrayed the fact that he actually hadn’t gotten away from his rooted and grounded superstitions yet. He said, with a trifle of hesitancy:

“But⁠—but⁠—ye cannot fail to grant that two mills a day is better than one.”

Shucks! Well, of course, I hated to give it up. So I chanced another flyer:

“Let us suppose a case. Suppose one of your journeymen goes out and buys the following articles:

“One pound of salt; one dozen eggs; one dozen pints of beer; one bushel of wheat; one tow-linen suit; five pounds of beef; five pounds of mutton.

“The lot will cost him thirty-two cents. It takes him thirty-two working days to earn the money⁠—five weeks and two days. Let him come to us and work thirty-two days at half the wages; he can buy all those things for a shade under fourteen and a half cents;