"Daisy, they are your servants; they belong to you. They have no right to wages. Suppose you had to pay all these creatures—seven hundred of them—as you pay people at Melbourne: how much do you suppose you would have left to live upon yourselves? What nonsense it is to talk!"
"But they work for us," I said.
"Certainly. There would not be anything for any of us if they didn't. Here, at Magnolia, they raise rice crops and corn, as well as cotton; at our place we grow nothing but cotton and corn."
"Well, what pays them for working?"
"I told you! they have their living and clothing and no care; and they are the happiest creatures the sun shines on."
"Are they willing to work for only that!" I asked.
"Willing!" said Preston.
"Yes," said I, feeling myself grow sick at heart.
"I fancy nobody asks them that question. They have to work, I reckon, whether they like it or no."