I earn thirty cents every day, excepts Sundays and holidays.

If I apply to you for work at the same time with a Flemish workman, you give him the preference.
But I need clothing.

If a Belgian weaver puts his cloth beside yours, you drive both him and his cloth out of the country.

Consequently, forced to buy at your shop, where it is dearest, my poor thirty cents are really worth only twenty-eight.
What did I say?
They are worth only twenty-six.

For, instead of driving the Belgian weaver away at _your own expense_ (which would be the least you could do) you compel me to pay those who, in your interest, force him out of the market.
And since a large number of your fellow-legislators, with whom you seem to have an excellent understanding, take away from me a cent or two each, under pretext of protecting somebody's coal, or oil, or wheat, when the balance is struck, I find that of my thirty cents I have only fifteen left from the pillage.
Possibly, you may answer that those few pennies which pass thus, without compensation, from my pocket to yours, support a number of people about your _chateau_, and at the same time assist you in keeping up your establishment.