There are times when one must set one's self against things—defend one's self.
"If they were to issue a prohibition," says someone, ironically, and with a side-glance at me, "the heretics would take to praying, if only for the sake of saying Tachanun, so that Messiah should not come."
The company smile.
"But where is the harm," asks someone else, "if the great people don't agree among themselves?"
The company gave a groan. Doubtless each remembered how many times he had suffered unjustly on account of the want of unity, and the surest proof of Tishewitz having greatly suffered by reason of dissensions is, that no clear explanation was given as to who was at fault that the great were not at one, so fearful were they of provoking a fresh disagreement.
I put forward that poverty had more to do with the differences than anything.
There is nothing to trade with, people go about empty-handed, seeking quarrels to while away the time with; the proof is that in larger towns, where each goes about his own business, there is quiet.
If someone, I opine, would throw into Tishewitz a few thousand rubles, everything would be forgotten.
"To be sure, we know wealth is everything!" exclaims somebody. "If I had only had so much brains, I could put all Tishewitz into my pocket to-day. It was just a toss-up—I had only to say the word."
"True! True!" was heard on all sides. "It is an actual fact."