Rabbi and Priest | Page 3

long to wait. Already in the far corner of the dingy and
smoke-obscured room, we hear voices in altercation; a hot, angry
dispute forces itself upon our ears, and the people cease their revels to
listen.
"Say what you will," shouted one fur-bedecked individual; "it is an
outrage! We are already burdened with enough taxes. Three days of the
week we must work for the master of our lands, and but three days are
left us for our own support; and now they want to tax us again for a war
in which we have no interest."
"But the Czar must have the money," retorted another. "The people of
Poland are in a state of rebellion, and the army has already been

ordered out to subdue that province."
"Let them tax the nobles, then," angrily cried a third. "Why do they
constantly bleed the poor peasant? Do they want to suck the last drop
of our life's blood? I tell you, we ought not submit."
"How will you help yourselves?" sneeringly asked the host, who, with
napkin tucked under his chin, stood near the speakers, and lost not a
word of the conversation.
How, indeed? Silence fell over the disputants. The question had been
asked, alas! how often, but the answer had not yet been forthcoming.
"Let us arise and organize," at length cried the first speaker, one
Podoloff by name, who was known as a man of great daring and more
than average intelligence, and who had upon more than one occasion
been unconsciously very near having himself transported to Siberia.
"Let us organize!" he repeated. "Think ye we alone are tired of this
wretched existence? Think ye that the peasants of Radtsk and Mohilev
and Kief are less human than ourselves, and that they are less weary of
the slavery under which they drag out a miserable existence? Let us
assert our rights! With the proper organization, and a few good leaders,
we could humble this proud nobility and bring it to our feet. There was
a time when the Russian peasant was a free man, with the privilege to
go whither he pleased, but a word from an arrogant ruler changed it all,
and we are now bound and fettered like veritable slaves."
A murmur of surprise swept through the room. Such an incendiary
harangue was new to the serfs of that region. Never before had such
revolutionary doctrines been openly advanced. Subdued complaints,
undefined expressions of discontent, were frequent, and were as
frequently repressed, but such an outspoken insult to the reigning
nobility, such a fearless invitation to rebellion against the authorities,
were unheard of.
The village elder, a venerable and worthy man, arose and sought to
check the fiery eloquence of the orator.

"Be silent, Podoloff," he commanded. "It is not for you to speak against
the existing order of things. Your father and your father's father were
content to live as you do, and were none the worse for it. By what right
do you complain?"
"By the right that every human being ought to enjoy!" retorted Podoloff.
"Our condition is growing worse every year. Last year the Czar
imposed a tax on account of the disturbances in Poland. Three months
later, the Governor created another tax to pay for his new palace. Now
there is to be still another tax, bigger than the last. No; we ought not to
stand it. It has reached the limit of endurance."
Murmurs of approval arose from various quarters, only to be quickly
suppressed by the cooler heads in the assembly.
"Still we have much to be thankful for," said an old cobbler, Sobelefsky
by name. "The nobles are very kind to us. They supply us with
implements and find a market for our grain."
"And for that they rob us of our money and our liberty," retorted
Podoloff, hotly. "Ask Simon Schefsky there, how much he owes to our
gracious Governor, who last year took from him his pretty daughter,
that her charms might while away his weary hours in Alexandrovsk."
"He is a tyrant!" shouted several women, their rough cheeks tingling at
the recollection of recent indignities. The cry was taken up by many of
the poor wretches present.
What material there was in "Paradise" for the infernal regions of
Siberia!
In vain did Selaski Starosta endeavor to make himself heard. In vain
did the older and more conservative among the company advise caution.
The passion of an angry and enslaved people had for the moment
broken its bonds, and the tumult could not be quelled by mere words.
"See!" cried Podoloff, emboldened by his success. He sprang upon a
table and tore a paper from his pocket. "Yesterday I went to Kharkov to

sell some cattle. I found that the people there had already organized.
They have