But after
that I couldn't get work. It's wonderful what an
effectual tool a poker is if you handle it properly;
and nobody cares to employ a cripple."
"What sort of work did you do?"
"What I could get. For some time I lived by
odd-jobbing for the blacks on the sugar plantations,
fetching and carrying and so on. It's one of
the curious things in life, by the way, that slaves
always contrive to have a slave of their own, and
there's nothing a negro likes so much as a white
fag to bully. But it was no use; the overseers
always turned me off. I was too lame to be
quick; and I couldn't manage the heavy loads.
And then I was always getting these attacks
of inflammation, or whatever the confounded
thing is.
"After some time I went down to the silver-mines
and tried to get work there; but it was all
no good. The managers laughed at the very
notion of taking me on, and as for the men, they
made a dead set at me."
"Why was that?"
"Oh, human nature, I suppose; they saw I had
only one hand that I could hit back with.
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