"
At that moment it seemed to me that Yekil was the judge, and the
boys who had found the pork were the witnesses against me. Yekil
listened to my partial confession, and the two "witnesses" hung
their heads, and hid their faces in shame, as if they were the
accused. But I sobbed and cried bitterly.
"Now, listen, little one," Yekil turned to me. "I do not know
whether you have suffered the horrors of hell that we have suffered.
Did they paint your body with tar, and put you up on the highest
shelf in the steam-bath, and choke you with burning steam? Did they
flog you with birch-rods for having been caught mumbling a Hebrew
prayer? Did they make you kneel for hours on sharp stones for
having refused to kiss the ikon and the crucifix? Did they discover
you secretly kissing the Arba-Kanfos, and give you as many lashes as
there are treads in the Tzitzis? If you have not passed through all
that, uncover our backs, and count the welts that still mark them!
And to this you must add the number of blows I have still to get,
simply because my little body could not take in at once all it was
expected to take in.
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