We were reading aloud, but still our lips muttered: "Father in Heaven, will there never come an end to this tyrant, this Pharaoh, this Haman, this Gog-Magog? Or will there ever come a time when we shall be rid of this hard, hopeless, dark tyranny? No, never, never!" That is the conclusion we arrived at, poor innocent, foolish children! * * * "Children, do you want to hear of a good plan that will rid us of our Gog-Magog?" That was what one of the boys asked us on one of those melancholy moments already described. His name was Velvel Leib Aryas. He was a young heathen. When he was speaking his eyes gleamed in the darkness like those of a wolf. And the whole school of boys crowded around Velvel to hear the plan by which we might get rid of our Gog-Magog. Velvel began his explanation by giving us a lecture--how impossible it was to stand Boaz any longer, how the Ashmodai was bathing in our blood, how he regarded us as dogs--worse than dogs, because when a dog is beaten with a stick it may, at any rate, howl. And we may not do that either. And so on, and so on. After this Velvel said to us: "Listen, children, to what I will ask you. I am going to ask you something." "Ask it," we all cried in one voice. "What is the law in a case where, for example, one of us suddenly becomes ill?" "It is not good," we replied. "No, I don't mean that. I mean something else. I mean, if one of us is ill does he go to '_Cheder_,' or does he stay at home?" "Of course he stays at home," we all answered together. "Well, what is the law if two of us get ill?" "Two remain at home." "Well, and if three get ill?" Velvel went on asking us, and we went on answering him. "Three stay at home." "What would happen if, for example, we all took ill?" "We should all stay at home." "Then let a sickness come upon us all," he cried joyfully. We replied angrily: "The Lord forbid! Are you mad, or have you lost your reason?" "I am not mad, and I have not lost my reason. Only you are fools, yes. Do I mean that we are to be really ill? I mean that we are to pretend to be ill, so that we shall not have to go to '_Cheder_.' Do you understand me now?" When Velvel had explained his plan to us, we began to understand it, and to like it. And we began to ask ourselves what sort of an illness we should suffer from. One suggested toothache, another headache, a third stomach-ache, a fourth worms. But we decided that it was not going to be toothache, nor headache, nor stomach-ache, nor worms. What then? We must all together complain of pains in our feet, because the doctor could decide whether we really suffered from any of the other illnesses or not. But if we told him we had pains in our feet, and were unable to move them, he could do nothing. "Remember, children, you are not to get out of bed tomorrow morning. And so that we may all be certain that not one of us will come to '_Cheder_' tomorrow, let us promise one another, take an oath."