Robinson. Say rather that they are taken from our activity. There is our loss. Labor is wealth, and if we lose a fourth of our time we are one-fourth poorer.
Friday. Friend, you make an enormous mistake. The same amount of game and vegetables and three free hours to boot make progress, or there is none in the world.
Robinson. Mere generalities. What will we do with these three hours?
Friday. We will do something else.
Robinson. Ah, now I have you. You can specify nothing. It is very easy to say something else—something else.
Friday. We will fish. We will adorn our houses. We will read the Bible.
Robinson. Utopia! Is it certain that we will do this rather than that?
Friday. Well, if we have no wants, we will rest. Is rest nothing?
Robinson. When one rests one dies of hunger.
Friday. Friend, you are in a vicious circle. I speak of a rest which diminishes neither our gains nor our vegetables. You always forget that by means of our commerce with this stranger, nine hours of labor will give us as much food as twelve now do.