“A hundred milrays.”
“We pay forty. What do you pay for beef and mutton—when you buy it?” That was a neat hit; it made the color come.
“It varieth somewhat, but not much; one may say seventy-five milrays the pound.”
“ We pay thirty-three. What do you pay for eggs?”
“Fifty milrays the dozen.”
“We pay twenty. What do you pay for beer?”
“It costeth us eight and one-half milrays the pint.”
“We get it for four; twenty-five bottles for a cent. What do you pay for wheat?”
“At the rate of nine hundred milrays the bushel.”
“We pay four hundred. What do you pay for a man’s tow-linen suit?”
“Thirteen cents.”
“We pay six. What do you pay for a stuff gown for the wife of the laborer or the mechanic?”
“We pay eight cents, four mills.”
“Well, observe the difference: you pay eight cents and four mills, we pay only four cents.” I prepared now to sock it to him. I said: “Look here, dear friend, what’s become of your high wages you were bragging so about a few minutes ago ?”—and I looked around on the company with placid satisfaction, for I had slipped up on him gradually and tied him hand and foot, you see, without his ever noticing that he was being tied