Tax the
bachelors. Give the single women a pension. Hunt out the tax-dodgers.
There are things enough to tax instead of the farms and cottages of the
poor men."
He now fixed the Duke with his gaze.
"You don't dare to deny, do you, that the system in this State is
screwing the last cent out of the exposed property and letting the
dodgers go free? Tax the necessities of the poor, say you! I say, tax
the luxuries of the rich!"
"In some countries, I believe, they get quite a revenue by taxing
mustaches," stated the Duke, thus appealed to.
Spinney indignantly broke in on the laughter.
"You've carried off oppression so far as a joke, but you can't do it any
longer, Squire Thornton. The people are awake this time. They've got
done electing lawyers and dudes and land-grabbers for Governors. They're
going to have a Governor that will make State officials work for fair
day's wages, as the farmers and artisans work. No more high-salaried
loafers in public office! No more dynasties, Sir Duke of Fort Canibas!
You'll be having a coat of arms next!"
This last was said in rude jest--the public horseplay of a man anxious
to win his laugh at any cost.
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