“Old Jacob.”
“Who is this Old Jacob?”
“He is an old laborer, he is eighty years old. He worked until his seventieth year. Now he can’t do anything more, and has his hands and feet and legs crippled by rheumatism.”
“He worked sixty years for others! A pretty long time. I suppose that Old Jacob is treated like a prince, everybody is terribly anxious to serve him? He has a wonderful soft bed for his tired [[62]]limbs, gets special kind of food every day, lives well and happily?”
“Oh no, the old matron always curses at him when he complains that the bread is too hard for his old teeth. And if he asks for a little tobacco, she gets angry and cries that he is unreasonable.”
“Why then did Old Jacob work until he was seventy years old, if now when he’s old he doesn’t even live well?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because he is stupid. He knows also, just like Mary, that there are fine young gentlemen who do nothing at all and yet live like kings. Do you see now, little imp, that people are stupid?”
“Yes,” said Paul sadly. “But I would like to ask you something, dear Mrs. Owl. Why are there rich people in the world?”