"Maman, let us go home!"
In the meantime Meir was on the way to the house of his friend Eliezer, but he only looked in at the window, and went further, for the cantor's room was empty; but he evidently knew where to find his comrades, and he went directly toward the meadow situated beyond the town. As a few weeks ago this meadow—a true oasis of quiet and freshness—was all bathed in the pink light of the sunset. It is true that the grass was no longer so green, for it was a little burned by the beat of the summer sun, but the bushes were in full bloom, and the scent of the wild flowers filled the air.
Near the grove, under the thickly growing birches, sat a group of young people. Some of them spoke together in low tones, while others mechanically plucked the wild plants growing around them, and others still with their faces turned to the blue sky, in which floated golden clouds, hummed softly.
The pond, a short way off, was now surrounded with thick bunches of forget-me-nots and large flowers of the water-plants. On its bank was seated the motionless figure of a tall slender girl, and beside her, amid the bushes of sweet-briar, grazed the white goat, plucking the herbs and leaves.
Meir approached the group of young people who were evidently awaiting his arrival with some impatience for those who lay in the grass rose at once on seeing him and sat looking intently into his face. He did not greet his comrades and did not even look at them, but threw himself down upon the trunk of a birch tree which had been overthrown by a storm. He was sad, but perhaps even more angry. The young people were silent, and looked at him in surprise. Eliezer, who lay in the grass with his elbow resting against the trunk on which Meir sat, was the first to speak.
"Well, have you seen him?"
"Have you seen him?" several voices chimed in, "and is he highly educated and very wise?"
Meir raised his head and said emphatically:
"He is educated, but very stupid."
This exclamation caused great surprise among the young men. After quite a long silence, Aryel, the son of the magnificent Morejne Calman, said: