men," remarked Hloucek, when they had sat down to the table upon which his wife had set the pitcher of foaming beer, and was laying out several slices of savory pink ham. "There is no question that we have among the laborers some good, faithful comrades, who believe with us that a laborer, whether in a trade shop, or in a factory, is a downright slave. With no human nor social rights, he is chained to his work like a beast, while profits all go to the capitalist.
"But there are some men among us that are content to be slaves, who don't know anything about their rights as men and citizens, and who don't care either, as long as they have a crust of bread to chew, a den with a bundle of straw to sleep on, and a few rags to cover the nakedness of their wives and children. They have sunk so low that they even bow down to the tyrants, hurrah for them, and take their part against us!"
Pouring out the foaming liquid, he clinked his glass against Sykora's and cried:
"Long life and health to those that work for labor; long life to those that strive for the just distribution of the profits of labor, and destruction to all that are satisfied with their present wretched condition!"
Both friends emptied their glasses at a single draught.
"Fana," said Hloucek to his wife as he wiped the foam from his mouth with his sleeve, "fill up our glasses, and take a drink with us. When the pitcher is empty have it filled again, and—see here, what are you doing? Just leave that meat as it is, don't try to cheat us by cutting it into smaller pieces! I guess the meat market hasn't sold out yet: for all our slavery, we're not going to bed on empty stomachs. Day after to-morrow is pay day."
Placing two of the thickest pieces of the ham upon a slice of bread he laid it before Sykora saying:
"Eat, Vojta, I foot the bills to-day. You deserve a better supper after all you had to suffer from the adjutant. But, never mind, Sunday we'll make up for it! We'll go to Liska's and celebrate your trial from morning till night, and we'll send an invitation to the adjutant to come and join us."
Again he raised his glass to his lips, urging Sykora to drink, exclaiming as he did so:
"Death to all slave holders! and death to all those that uphold them!"
"I rather think that the adjutant would be glad to accept your invitation," remarked Fana, as she wiped her greasy hands on her apron. "I met their maid at the meat market; she bought two pairs of smoked sausages for their supper, and had her pitcher filled with water."
"Two pairs of sausages for four persons!" laughed Sykora, as he helped himself to a large piece of ham, "and the adjutant talked to me for four long hours without stopping; his stomach must be empty. Now he gets one little sausage for supper!"
"Oh, but he makes up for it by bossing us round," said Hloucek, reaching out for more ham, "he has the right to boss us, he joins hands with our persecutors, he can arrest us and send us to the lock-up whenever he wants to! That's worth something. He wanted to belong to the upper class: he got his wish, so I don't pity him. As for me, I never wanted to be a laborer, but I've got to be one if I don't want to rob and murder. That makes a great difference."
