"They will come at nine," added Reb Shloimeh.
In a little while he asked to write his will. After writing the will, he undressed and closed his eyes.
They thought he had fallen asleep, but Reb Shloimeh was not asleep. He lay and thought, not about his past life, but about the future, the future in which men would live. He thought of what man would come to be. He pictured to himself a bright, glad world, in which all men would be equal in happiness, knowledge, and education, and his dying heart beat a little quicker, while his face expressed joy and contentment. He opened his eyes, and saw beside him a couple of teachers.
"And will it really be?" he asked and smiled.
"Yes, Reb Shloimeh," they answered, without knowing to what his question referred, for his face told them it was something good. The smile accentuated itself on his lips.
Once again he lost himself in thought.
He wanted to imagine that happy world, and see with his mind's eye nothing but happy people, educated people, and he succeeded.
The picture was not very distinct. He was imagining a great heap of happiness—happiness with a body and soul, and he felt himself so happy.
A sound of lamentation disturbed him.
"Why do they weep?" he wondered. "Every one will have a good time—everyone!"