of canal, and if it wasn't a hot day my name is not Pat
Lannigan. Presently I looked up and straightened my
back; says I to a comrade of mine, Mick, says I, I'm very
dry; with that, says the overseer, we don't allow gentlemen
to talk at their work in this country. Faith, I soon
found out for my two days' pay in one, I had to do two
days' work in one, and pay two weeks' board in one, and
at the end of a month, I found myself no better off in
pocket than in Nova Scotia; while the devil a bone in my
body that didn't ache with pain: and as for my nose, it
took to bleeding, and bled day and night entirely. Upon
my soul, Mr. Slick, said he, the poor labourer does not
last long in your country: what with new rum, hard labor,
and hot weather, you'll see the graves of the Irish each
side of the canals, for all the world like two rows of
potatoes in a field that have forgot to come up. It is
a land, Sir, continued the Clockmaker, of hard work. We
have two kind of slaves, the niggers and the white slaves.
All European laborers and blacks, who come out to us, do
our hard bodily work, while we direct it to a profitable
end; neither rich nor poor, high nor low, with us, eat
the bread of idleness. Our whole capital is in active
operation, and our whole population is in active
employment. An idle fellow, like Pugnose, who runs away
to us, is clapt into harness afore he knows where he is,
and is made to work; like a horse that refuses to draw,
he is put into the Team-boat; he finds some before him
and others behind him, HE MUST EITHER DRAW, or be DRAGGED
TO DEATH.