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Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963

"The Souls of Black Folk"

"Own land?" said the wife;
"well, only this house." Then she added quietly. "We did
buy seven hundred acres across up yonder, and paid for it;
but they cheated us out of it. Sells was the owner." "Sells!"
echoed the ragged misfortune, who was leaning against the
balustrade and listening, "he's a regular cheat. I worked for
him thirty-seven days this spring, and he paid me in card-
board checks which were to be cashed at the end of the
month. But he never cashed them,--kept putting me off.
Then the sheriff came and took my mule and corn and furni-
ture--" "Furniture? But furniture is exempt from seizure by
law." "Well, he took it just the same," said the hard-faced
man.



VIII
Of the Quest of the Golden Fleece
But the Brute said in his breast, "Till the mills I grind have ceased,
The riches shall be dust of dust, dry ashes be the feast!

"On the strong and cunning few
Cynic favors I will strew;
I will stuff their maw with overplus until their spirit dies;
From the patient and the low
I will take the joys they know;
They shall hunger after vanities and still an-hungered go.


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