lked on this earth? Do you
see? And you too, you are lying.... Do you think that all die out?
The Russian people will never disappear.... You are lying.... It has
been written in the Bible, only it is not known what name the Russians
are given. Do you see what kind of people they are? They are
numberless.... How many villages are there on the earth? Think of all
the people who live on it, so strong, so numerous! And you say that
they will die out; men shall die, but God wants the people, God the
Creator of the earth! The Amalekites did not die out. They are either
German or French.... But you, eh, you! Now then, tell me why we are
abandoned by God? Have we no punishments nor prophets from the Lord?
Who then will teach us?" Tyapa spoke strongly and plainly, and there
was faith in his words. He had been speaking a long time, and the
teacher, who was generally drunk and in a speechless condition, could
not stand it any longer. He looked at the dry, wrinkled old man, felt
the great force of these words, and suddenly began to pity himself. He
wished to say something so strong and convincing to the old man that
Tyapa would be disposed in his favour; he did not wish to speak in such
a serious, earnest way, but in a soft and fatherly tone. And the
teacher felt as if something were rising from his breast into his
throat ... But he could not find any powerful words.

"What kind of a man are you? ... Your soul seems to be torn away--and
you still continue speaking ... as if you knew something ... It would
be better if you were silent."

"Ah, Tyapa, what you say is true," replied the teacher, sadly. "The
people ... you are right ... they are numberless ... but I am a
stranger to them ... and they are strangers to me ... Do you see where
the tragedy of my life is hidden? ... But let me alone! I shall suffer
... and there are no prophets also ... No. You are right, I speak a
great deal ... But it is no good to anyone. I shall be always silent
... Only don't speak with me like this ... Ah, old man, you do not
know ... You do not know ... And you cannot understand."

And in the end the teacher cried. He cried so easily and so freely,
with such torrents of flowing tears, that he soon found relief.

"You ought to go into a village ... become a clerk or a teacher ...
You would be well fed there. What are you crying for?" asked Tyapa,
sadly.

But the teacher was crying as if the tears quieted and comfort