" 'Fair enough, fair enough,' he admitted. When I told him of my plan to peddle our honey
cakes, he was well pleased. 'Here is what we will do,' he suggested. 'Thou sellest them at two for a
penny, then half of the pennies will be mine to pay for the flour and the honey and the wood to bake
them. Of the rest, I shall take half and thou shall keep half.'
"I was much pleased by his generous offer that I might keep for myself, one-fourth of my sales.
That night I worked late to make a tray upon which to display them. Nana-naid gave me one of his
worn robes that I might look well, and Swasti helped me patch it and wash it clean.
"The next day I baked an extra supply of honey cakes. They looked brown and tempting upon
the tray as I went along the street, loudly calling my wares. At first no one seemed interested, and I
became discouraged. I kept on and later in the afternoon as men became hungry, the cakes began to sell
and soon my tray was empty.
"Nana-naid was well pleased with my success and gladly paid me my share. I was delighted to
own pennies. Megiddo had been right when he said a master appreciated good work from his slaves.
That night I was so excited over my success I could hardly sleep and tried to figure how much I could
earn in a year and how many years would be required to buy my freedom.
"As I went forth with my tray of cakes every day, I soon found regular customers. One of these
was none other than thy grandfather, Arad Gula. He was a rug merchant and sold to the housewives,
going from one end of the city the other, accompanied by a donkey loaded high with rugs and a black
slave to tend it. He would buy two cakes for himself and two for his slave, always tarrying to talk with
me while they ate them.
Thy grandfather said something to me one day that I shall always remember. 'I like thy cakes,
boy, but better still I like the fine enterprise with which thou offerest them. Such spirit can carry thee
far on the road to success.'
"But how canst thou understand, Hadan Gula, what such words of encouragement could mean
to a slave boy, lonesome in a great city, struggling with all he had in him to find a way out of his
humiliation?
"As the months went by I continued to add pennies to my purse. It began to have a comforting
weight upon my belt. Work was proving to be my best friend Just as Megiddo had said. I was happy but
Swasti was worried.
" 'Thy master, I fear to have him spend so much time at the gaming houses,' she protested.
"I was overjoyed one day to meet my friend Megiddo upon the street. He was leading three
donkeys loaded with vegetables to the market. 'I am doing mighty well,' he said. 'My master does
appreciate my good work for now I am a foreman. See, he does trust the marketing to me, and also he
is sending for my family. Work is helping me to recover from my great trouble. Some day it will help
me to buy my freedom and once more own a farm of my own.'
"Time went on and Nana-naid became more and more anxious for me to return from selling. He
would be waiting when I returned and would eagerly count and divide our money. He would also urge
me to seek further markets and increase my sales.
"Often I went outside the city gates to solicit the overseers of the slaves building the walls. I
hated to return to the disagreeable sights but found the overseers liberal buyers. One day I was
surprised to see Zabado waiting in line to fill his basket with bricks. He was gaunt and bent, and his
back was covered with welts and sores from the whips of the overseers. I was sorry for him and handed
him a cake which he crushed into his mouth like a hungry animal. Seeing the greedy look in his eyes, I
ran before he could grab my tray.
" 'Why dost thou work so hard?' Arad Gula said to me one day. Almost the same question thou
asked of me today, dost thou remember? I told him what Megiddo had said about work and how it was
proving to be my best friend. I showed him with pride my wallet of pennies and explained how I was
justice t
(Justice T)
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