“Don’t you know Dick,” said a red-headed, saucy, but intelligent-looking chap, with sharply cut features, “that’s the genteel name of those poor devils who sell themselves for their passage and this ‘ere likes is the boss what takes the head money.”
Without noticing the interruption, Wilson continued,—
“Here, for instance, is a young man who can get no work these hard times, which means no clothes, no bread, no place to put his head in. A farmer over there who wants help pays his passage. He works for that farmer till he pays up the passage money; and the farmer takes him into his family, and feeds and clothes him while he is doing it.”
“How long will he have to work to pay for his passage?”
“Three or four years; three if he is used to farm work.”
“What does he do after that?”
“Then he is his own man and can always have plenty of work at good wages and found, and won’t have to lay up alongside of a glass-house chimney to keep from freezing. Land is so cheap that if he is prudent and saves his money, he can in a few years buy a piece of land with wood on it that he can cut down, build him a log house, plant and sow and be comfortable. In some places the government will give him land to settle on if he builds a house and stays five years, or he can pay for it by working on the highways.”
“Go, Dick,” cried the red-head, “they say it’s a glorious country, plenty of work, plenty of bread, and no hanging for stealing, just the place for you my lad.”
“You shut up. What is he going to do after he gets the land!”
“Work on it to be sure, make a home of it, have cattle, and sheep, and hogs, and lashings to eat.”