White with fury, the Senior Bolshevists charged down upon them. The Junior Bolshevists stood their ground firmly, with the exception of the one who had been smoking a cigarette, and he, perforce a coward for physical rather than moral reasons, crept quietly home, relinquishing without reluctance his half-smoked cigarette. In the Homeric battle that followed, accusations and justifications were hurled to and fro as the struggle proceeded.
“You beastly little thieves!”
“You said to be equal, an’ why should some people have all the things!”
“You little wretches!”
“We’re ’uman beings an’ got to take things to make equal. You said so.”
“Give it back to me!”
“Why should you have it an’ not me? It was time for Action, you said.”
“You’ve spoilt it.”
“Well, it’s as much mine as yours. We’ve got equal rights. We’re all ’uman beings.”
But the battle was one-sided, and the Junior Branch, having surrendered their booty and received punishment, fled in confusion. The Senior Branch, bending lovingly and sadly over battered treasures, walked slowly and silently up the road.