“Here, boy,” I said, “give me your paper.”
He gave it to me, still crying as before.
“And how much must I pay you for it?” I asked.
“An obol,”[7] he replied.
“Very well,” said I, and gave him the obol.
“Is it not cheap?” said Chærephon. “And do you not think the demos has great reason to rejoice? For now many more will be able to read of what takes place.”
“It is indeed cheap,” I said, “and now the demos may indeed read all it will. But I do not think it may rejoice.”
“Do I hear aright?” he asked. “Can it be you do not like the change?”
“You do hear aright,” I answered. “I do not like it.”
“But ’twill educate the demos,” he said.