"Wait a little longer. It is still early. Why should it happen to _me_, why should my pleasure be spoilt? Now I've got to marry my youngest daughter without a dinner to the poor! I would have given them half a ruble each, it's not the money I mind, but fancy bargaining with me! Well, there, I have done my part, and if they won't come, I'm sure they're not wanted; afterwards they'll be sorry; they don't get a wedding like this every day. We shall do without them." "Well, can they put the veil on the bride?" the beadle came and inquired. "Yes, they can.... No, tell them to wait a little longer!" Nearly all the guests, who were tired of waiting, cried out that the tramps could very well be missed. Reb Yitzchok-Aizik's face suddenly assumed another expression, the anger vanished, and he turned to me and a couple, of other friends, and asked if we would drive to the town, and parley with the revolted almsgatherers. "He has no brains, one can't depend on him," he said, referring to the messenger. A horse was harnessed to a conveyance, and we drove off, followed by the mounted messenger. "A revolt--a strike of almsgatherers, how do you like that?" we asked one another all the way. We had heard of workmen striking, refusing to work except for a higher wage, and so forth, but a strike of paupers--paupers insisting on larger alms as pay for eating a free dinner, such a thing had never been known. In twenty minutes time we drove into Lipovietz. In the market-place, in the centre of the town, stood the three great peasant wagons, furnished with fresh straw. The small horses were standing unharnessed, eating out of their nose-bags; round the wagons were a hundred poor folk, some dumb, others lame, the greater part blind, and half the town urchins with as many men. All of them were shouting and making a commotion. The Crooked One sat on a wagon, and banged it with his crutches; Long Mekabbel, with a red plaster on his neck, stood beside him. These two leaders of the revolt were addressing the people, the meek of the earth. "Ha, ha!" exclaimed Long Mekabbel, as he caught sight of us and the messenger, "they have come to beg our acceptance!" "To beg our acceptance!" shouted the Crooked One, and banged his crutch. "Why won't you come to the wedding, to the dinner?" we inquired. "Everyone will be given alms." "How much?" they asked all together. "We don't know, but you will take what they offer." "Will they give it us in kerblech? Because, if not, we don't go." "There will be a hole in the sky if you don't go," cried some of the urchins present. The almsgatherers threw themselves on the urchins with their sticks, and there was a bit of a row. Mekabbel the Long, standing on the cart, drew himself to his full height, and began to shout: "Hush, hush, hush! Quiet, you crazy cripples! One can't hear oneself speak! Let us hear what those have to say who are worth listening to!" and he turned to us with the words: