Read "Boy the Wandering Dog" by Marshall Saunders online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Living out here in the country as we do, I see a great many poor people, either coming here to beg, tramping by on the high road, or sitting on the rustic benches that master has had placed all along the sidewalks that bound his property.
I am amazed at the topsy-turviness of their ideas. Now, rich people are not perfect, but on the whole, they seem to have more common sense than the idle poor. These shabbily dressed persons perch round on the benches, stare at master's big white house showing among the trees, and these are their sentiments: "I wish I had been born rich -- I wish some one would die, and leave me some money -- I wish I didn't have to work" -- one man only, in the whole course of my eavesdropping under hedges, have I heard say, "That's a wise guy in that big house. He's slaved for what he got. Let him keep it."