A gouty feeling in my
feet, a dyspeptic ache of the stomach and an alcoholic pain in the head,
caused me to be in a very disagreeable mood, and I felt like kicking the
entire gathering out of my presence.
"Sire," squeaked a knock-kneed, sickly looking civilized creature about
five feet high, who wore knee breeches, silk stockings and fancy
ribbons, as he bowed low in addressing me, "those ungrateful subjects of
your majesty, the ignorant common laboring horde whom God in His
infinite wisdom has entrusted to your noble guidance, have become
dissatisfied and turbulent again, and are disturbing the peaceful
prosperity of the domain by clamoring for bread--more bread and less
toil is their beastly cry. A delegation of their representatives
requested me to beg your majesty to grant them an audience that they
might state their imaginary grievances to you in person."
"More bread and less toil," shouted I furiously, "the audacity of the
vermin! By the gods! I shall teach those craven beggars that I am the
master and will tolerate no new-fangled ideas. Give orders to the
generalissimo to have this delegation beheaded at once and to put to the
sword every dissatisfied laborer in the land." As I uttered those words,
intermingled with terrible oaths, and with intense hatred for the
wretches who dared to complain against such conditions a sudden change
affected me and I found myself within a dark, filthy little room, seated
at a bare table, with a feeling of hunger gnawing at my stomach.
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