"I dare say they wouldn't," said Preston, carelessly. "They are better off here than on most plantations. Uncle Randolph never forbids his hands to have meat; and some planters do."
"Forbid them to have meat!" I said, in utter bewilderment.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"They think it makes them fractious, and not so easy to manage. Don't you know, it makes a dog savage to feed him on raw meat! I suppose cooked meat has the same effect on men."
"But don't they get what they choose to eat?"
"Well, I should think not!" said Preston. "Fancy their asking to be fed on chickens and pound cake. That is what they would like."
"But cannot they spend their wages for what they like?"
"Wages!" said Preston.
"Yes," said I.