" . . .
My fears vanished, and gave place to a feeling of surprise.
"Where can that chanting come from," thought I, "and here in exile,
too?"
Then I began to doubt it all, thinking it was but a dream.
"Why do the nations rage,
And the peoples imagine a vain thing?"
The voices were drawing me forward irresistibly, and I decided to
join the chorus, come what might. And I continued the Psalm in a
loud voice:
"The kings of the earth stood up . . . . "
The chanting ceased; I heard steps approaching me.
"Who is there?" asked a voice in Yiddish.
"It is I," answered I, "and who are you?"
"It is we!" shouted many voices in chorus.
"Cantonists?"
"A Cantonist, too?"
Thus exchanging questions, we met. They turned out to be three
Cantonists, who lived in a village at some distance from Peter's
house. I had never met them before. They, too, had "gone out for
the night," and we had happened to use the same valley.
I love to mention their names. The oldest of them was Jacob, whom
you remember from the punishment he underwent. The others were
Simeon and Reuben.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64