W. J. Well, citizen, I must say that either your estimate of yourself is modest, or your conscience is bad, that you must take that title to yourself! No; it is a bad business, but not so bad as that. It’s not you that we’re going to shoot, but a poor devil of a dog—a real dog, with a tail, you know—who has taken to killing sheep. And I’m sorry to say that social ethics have given me the job of shooting him. But come, now, you shall do it for me: you used to be a great upholder of capital punishment.
C. N. But what are you going to do with me, then? How are you going to punish me?
J. F. Punish you? how can we punish you? who do you think is going to do such work as that! People punish others because they like to; and we don’t like to. Once more, learn to live decently.
G. N. But how am I to live?
J. F. You must work a little.
C. N. But what at, since you object to lawyers?
J. F. Look round you, friend, at the fields all yellowing for harvest,—we will find you work to do.
C. N. (Aside: Ah, I see. This means hard labour for life, after all. Well, I must submit. Unhappy Nupkins! To Freeman) But who is to employ me? You will have to find me a master; and perhaps he won’t like to employ me.
J. F. My friend, we no more have masters than we have prisons: the first make the second. You must employ yourself: and you must also employ something else.
C. N. What? I don’t understand.