sea-cats!" we shouted in one voice. We took hands and
went forward, like giants, strong and courageous.

* * *

We called the Free School boys sea-cats because they were short little
children in the A B C class. They appeared to us "_Chumash_" boys like
flies, ants. We imagined that with one blow--phew! we would make an end
of them. We were certain that when they saw us, how we were armed from
head to foot with swords and bows and arrows and pop-guns, they would
surely fly away. It was no trifle to encounter such giants. You play
with "_Chumash_" boys, warriors with long legs!

We had never fought the sea-cats before. But we had every reason to
believe, we were convinced, we would conquer these squirrels with a
glance, destroy them, make an end of them. Along with giving them a good
licking, we would take spoil from them, that is to say, their food, and
let them go hungry.

We were so full of our own courage, and so enthusiastic about the brave
deeds we were going to do that we pushed each other forward, clapped
each other on the shoulder. Then, too, the assistants urged us forward.

"Why do you crawl like insects?" they asked us. They themselves stopped
frequently, opened the bags, and tasted our food and cherry-wine, which
they praised highly.

"Excellent cherry-wine," they said, passing round the bottles, and
letting the liquid gurgle down their throats. "Splendid liquor. The best
I ever tasted."

That was what the assistants said. They actually licked their fingers.
They remained in the distance, but indicated with their hands that we
must go forward, forward.

We went on and on, over the wide Mezritzer field, though the wind blew
stronger and stronger. The sky grew black with clouds, and a cold, thick
rain beat into our faces. Our hands were blue with the cold. Our boots
squelched in the mud. We had long given up singing songs. We were tired
and hungry, very hungry. We decided to sit down and rest, and have
something to eat.

"Where are the assistants? Where is the food--where is it?"

The boys began to murmur against the assistants.

"It is a dirty trick to take all our food from us, and our cherry-wine
and our few '_groschens_,' and to leave us here in the desert, cold and
hungry. May the devil take them!"

"May a bad end come to the assistants!"

"May the cholera strike down all the assistants in the world!"

"May they be the sacrifices for our tiniest nails!"

"Hush. Let there be silence. He