"But, Colonel," continued Fitz, with a sly twinkle in his eye, "your
tobacco pays no tax. With a debt like ours it is the duty of every
good citizen to pay his share of it. Half the cost of this cigar goes
to the Government."
It was a red flag to the colonel, and he laid down his pipe and faced
Fitz squarely.
"Tax! On our own productions, suh! Raised on our own land! Are you
again forgettin' that you are an Irishman and becomin' one of these
money-makin' Yankees? Haven't we suffe'd enough--robbed of our
property, our lands confiscated, our slaves torn from us; nothin' left
but our honor and the shoes we stand in!"
[Illustration]
The colonel on cross-examination could not locate any particular
wholesale robbery, but it did not check the flow of his indignation.
"Take, for instance, the town of Caartersville: look at that peaceful
village which for mo' than a hundred years has enjoyed the privileges
of free government; and not only Caartersville, but all our section
of the State."
"Well, what's the matter with Cartersville?" asked Fitz, lighting his
cigar.
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