d that book?"

"Yes. I have it."

"Where did you get it?"

"A wise Israelite gave it to me. He is a lawyer in the large city."

"Eliezer, read us something from that book."

In that way was revealed to those naive minds, involuntarily longing
for the sun and broad bosom of humanity,--even though the revelation
was partial and chaotic--the phenomena and thoughts circulating in
the waste spaces. The result of this was not the production of firm
convictions, nor the spinning out of a guiding thread to another
better life; but doubt entered their consciences and desire filled
their breasts--the young eyes veiled with the sadness of the thought
which began to feel its fetters.

It was quite late when, after a long conversation, the young men rose
and stood opposite each other with pale faces and burning looks.
After a time of silence, Meir said:

"Eliezer, when shall we stand up and cry with a powerful voice to the
people, that they may open their eyes? Shall we always crawl in
darkness, like the worms, covered with earth, and look on while the
whole nation rots and chokes?"

Eliezer dropped his eyes, which were full of tears, and raising his
white hands, he said in his harmonious voice:

"Every day before God I sing and cry for my people!"

Meir made a movement of impatience, and at that moment Ber, rising
heavily from the bed, laughed in a gloomy manner.

"Sing and cry!" said he to Eliezer, "your dreadful father fills you
with such fear that you will never be able to do anything else!"

Then he put his hand on Meir's shoulder and said:

"Only he is daring and will swim against the stream. But the water is
stronger than a man. Where will it carry him?"

Leaving Jankiel's house, Meir perceived again in one of the rooms,
the same as before, a woman sitting at the cradle of a sleeping baby.
Now she was bent over, and with both elbows resting on the edges of
the cradle, was slumbering. The light of the small lamp, burning in
the stove, fell upon her and threw a purple glimmer on the old caftan
which covered her bosom and shoulders. On her head she still wore the
holiday cap with crumpled flowers, its red colour contrasting
strangely with the yellow, wrinkled face with its low forehead and
withered cheeks. She was not yet old but worn out, over worked, spent
with fatigue. One glance at her was sufficient to tell that her life
lay in the midst of work and humiliation, and that she was not
refreshed by even one d