"So long, I say, as the people let themselves be taxed and fleeced by kings and priests, so long as they bow to a boss—whether they call him patron or God makes no difference—so long shall we remain in misery."
"Now, Markus," said Jan, "put in an oar yourself. You know better how to pull than the rest of 'em, I should say."
"Well, I will tell you a story," said Markus, "if you will promise to remember it, and not ask an explanation."
"Why not an explanation?" asked the man in brown. "What does that mean? Is it a riddle?"
"I would just as soon be silent," said Markus.
"Come, now, Markus, pitch in! We won't ask you any more than you want to tell us."
"Listen, then," said Markus; and he began his story in a tone which constrained them all to silence.
"Once there were some field-laborers who were very poor—so poor that when they were asked how, with all their children, they could make both ends meet, they replied, 'The churchyard helps us out.'
"They had a rich landlord, and there was an abundance of land. But they were obliged to work so long every day, and so many days in succession, that they had no time to learn anything—not even the best way to plow and sow and reap. They did only the work they were bidden to do. So they remained dull because they were poor, and poor because they were dull. It seemed as if it would stay thus until eternity.
"But the landlord grew richer and richer, through the toil of his many laborers, and according to the increase of his wealth did he become more covetous and dissolute and indolent. And he demanded that his laborers work still harder because his desires were greater.