Another spring, not struck as yet, gushed out before us. Was it possible we could have forgotten this? So, although our lips could scarcely move, we drank eagerly from this fresh source, and our choir sang a fresh song in unison with strength refreshed. The joyful song of the Birth of our Lord bore us far away again from the Yakut country, and kindled our hearts with new fire, the fire of truth, confidence, and hope.
We prayed long and fervently. Even Eudoxia, attracted by our praying, came in carrying a holy eikon, and bowing before it, repeated imploringly:
"Tangara! Aj, Tangara! Aj, Tangara, urùj!"[17]
THE TRIAL
By WŁADYSŁAW REYMONT
The door opened suddenly with a bang, letting the wind into the room, and a silent, sinister crowd of peasants began to pour in from the dark hall. They did not even say, "The Lord be praised!"[18]
The miller dropped his spoon on the table, and looked round in astonishment from one to the other. Then he turned down the lamp which was flaring from the draught.
"There are rather a lot of you," he muttered.