But there, in the world-of-truth, we shall surely
meet. May it be the will of God that I may have no reason to be
ashamed of you there, before Him and His angels, in Heaven!"
We parted, and the words of the rabbi sank deep into my heart.
Then they began dumping us into wagons. The obstreperous boys, who
tried to run away, were many of them bound with ropes and thrown
into the wagon. Of course, we all howled.
I did not hear my own voice, nor the voice of my neighbor. It was
all one great howl. A crowd of men and women followed our
wagon--the parents of the boys. Very likely they cried, too; but we
could not hear their voices. The town, the fields, heaven and
earth, seemed to cry with us.
I caught sight of my parents, and my heart was filled with something
like anger and hatred. I felt that I had been sacrificed for my
brother.
My mother, among many other mothers, approached the wagon, looked at
me, and apparently read my thoughts: she fainted away, and fell to
the ground. The accident held up the crowd, which busied itself
with reviving my mother, while our wagon rolled away.
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