orgie. The little draughts that led nowhere were taking the manhood out of him.
He went to the planter, and 'My mother's dead,' said he, weeping.
'She died on the last plantation two months ago; and she died once before that when you were working for me last year,' said the planter, who knew something of the ways of nativedom.
'Then it's my aunt, and she was just the same as a mother to me,' said Deesa, weeping more than ever. 'She has left eighteen small children entirely without bread, and it is I who must fill their little stomachs,' said Deesa, beating his head on the floor.
'Who brought you the news?' said the planter.
'The post' said Deesa.
'There hasn't been a post here for the past week. Get back to your lines!'
'A devastating sickness has fallen on my village, and all my wives are dying,' yelled Deesa, really in tears this time.
'Call Chihun, who comes from Deesa's village,' said the planter.' Chihun, has this man a wife?'
'He!' said Chihun. 'No. Not a woman of our village would look at him. They'd sooner marry the elephant.' Chihun snorted. Deesa wept and bellowed.
'You will get into a difficulty in a minute,' said the planter.' Go back to your work!'
'Now I will speak Heaven's truth' gulped Deesa, with an inspiration. 'I haven't been drunk for two months. I desire to depart in order to get properly drunk afar off and distant from this heavenly plantation. Thus I shall cause no trouble.'
A flickering smile crossed the planter's face. 'Deesa,' said he, 'you've spoken the truth, and I'd give you leave
