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"
They
have
dreams
,
"
I
interrupted
,
"
radiant
,
flashing
dreams
--
"
"
Of
grub
,
"
he
concluded
sententiously
.
"
And
of
more
--
"
"
Grub
.
Of
a
larger
appetite
and
more
luck
in
satisfying
it
.
"
His
voice
sounded
harsh
.
There
was
no
levity
in
it
.
"
For
,
look
you
,
they
dream
of
making
lucky
voyages
which
will
bring
them
more
money
,
of
becoming
the
mates
of
ships
,
of
finding
fortunes
--
in
short
,
of
being
in
a
better
position
for
preying
on
their
fellows
,
of
having
all
night
in
,
good
grub
and
somebody
else
to
do
the
dirty
work
.
You
and
I
are
just
like
them
.
There
is
no
difference
,
except
that
we
have
eaten
more
and
better
.
I
am
eating
them
now
,
and
you
too
.
But
in
the
past
you
have
eaten
more
than
I
have
.
You
have
slept
in
soft
beds
,
and
worn
fine
clothes
,
and
eaten
good
meals
.
Who
made
those
beds
?
and
those
clothes
?
and
those
meals
?
Not
you
.
You
never
made
anything
in
your
own
sweat
.
You
live
on
an
income
which
your
father
earned
.
You
are
like
a
frigate
bird
swooping
down
upon
the
boobies
and
robbing
them
of
the
fish
they
have
caught
.
You
are
one
with
a
crowd
of
men
who
have
made
what
they
call
a
government
,
who
are
masters
of
all
the
other
men
,
and
who
eat
the
food
the
other
men
get
and
would
like
to
eat
themselves
.
You
wear
the
warm
clothes
.
They
made
the
clothes
,
but
they
shiver
in
rags
and
ask
you
,
the
lawyer
,
or
business
agent
who
handles
your
money
,
for
a
job
.
"
"
But
that
is
beside
the
matter
,
"
I
cried
.
"
Not
at
all
.
"
He
was
speaking
rapidly
now
,
and
his
eyes
were
flashing
.
"
It
is
piggishness
,
and
it
is
life
.
Of
what
use
or
sense
is
an
immortality
of
piggishness
?
What
is
the
end
?
What
is
it
all
about
?
You
have
made
no
food
.
Yet
the
food
you
have
eaten
or
wasted
might
have
saved
the
lives
of
a
score
of
wretches
who
made
the
food
but
did
not
eat
it
.
What
immortal
end
did
you
serve
?
or
did
they
?
Consider
yourself
and
me
.
What
does
your
boasted
immortality
amount
to
when
your
life
runs
foul
of
mine
?
You
would
like
to
go
back
to
the
land
,
which
is
a
favourable
place
for
your
kind
of
piggishness
.
It
is
a
whim
of
mine
to
keep
you
aboard
this
ship
,
where
my
piggishness
flourishes
.
And
keep
you
I
will
.
I
may
make
or
break
you
.
You
may
die
to-day
,
this
week
,
or
next
month
.
I
could
kill
you
now
,
with
a
blow
of
my
fist
,
for
you
are
a
miserable
weakling
.
But
if
we
are
immortal
,
what
is
the
reason
for
this
?
To
be
piggish
as
you
and
I
have
been
all
our
lives
does
not
seem
to
be
just
the
thing
for
immortals
to
be
doing
.
Again
,
what
's
it
all
about
?
Why
have
I
kept
you
here
?
--
"
"
Because
you
are
stronger
,
"
I
managed
to
blurt
out
.
"
But
why
stronger
?
"
he
went
on
at
once
with
his
perpetual
queries
.
"
Because
I
am
a
bigger
bit
of
the
ferment
than
you
?
Do
n't
you
see
?
Do
n't
you
see
?
"
