ed,
and the younger listened--listened with all their senses on the alert.
Black eyes gleamed in the darkness. Young hearts palpitated. And we
decided that Boaz had no soul. He was a man without a soul. And such a
man is compared to an animal, to an evil spirit that it is a righteous
act to get rid of. Thousands of plans, foolish, childish plans, were
formed in our childish brains. We hoped to rid ourselves of our angel of
death, as we called Boaz. Foolish children! These foolish plans buried
themselves deep in each little heart that cried out to the Lord to
perform a miracle. We asked that either the books should be burnt, or
the strap he whipped us with taken to the devil, or--or.... No one
wished to speak of the last alternative. They were afraid to bring it to
their lips. And the evil spirit worked in their hearts. The young
fancies were enkindled, and the boys were carried away by golden dreams.
They dreamed of freedom, of running down hill, of wading barefoot in
the river, playing horses, jumping over the logs. They were good, sweet,
foolish dreams that were not destined to be realized. There was heard a
familiar cough, a familiar footfall. And our hearts were frozen. All our
limbs were paralysed, deadened. We sat down at the table and started our
lessons with as much enthusiasm as if we were starting for the gallows.
We were reading aloud, but still our lips muttered: "Father in Heaven,
will there never come an end to this tyrant, this Pharaoh, this Haman,
this Gog-Magog? Or will there ever come a time when we shall be rid of
this hard, hopeless, dark tyranny? No, never, never!"

That is the conclusion we arrived at, poor innocent, foolish children!

* * *

"Children, do you want to hear of a good plan that will rid us of our
Gog-Magog?"

That was what one of the boys asked us on one of those melancholy
moments already described. His name was Velvel Leib Aryas. He was a
young heathen. When he was speaking his eyes gleamed in the darkness
like those of a wolf. And the whole school of boys crowded around Velvel
to hear the plan by which we might get rid of our Gog-Magog. Velvel
began his explanation by giving us a lecture--how impossible it was to
stand Boaz any longer, how the Ashmodai was bathing in our blood, how he
regarded us as dogs--worse than dogs, because when a dog is beaten with
a stick it may, at any rate, howl. And we may not do that either. And
so on, and so on. After this Velvel said to us:

"L