And brutal crimes were committed among them, and the
roughness of these poor unfortunate outcasts was apt to increase
at the approach of that inexorable enemy, who transformed all
their lives into one cruel farce. But this enemy could not be
captured because it was invisible.
Then they began beating each other brutally, and drank till they
had drunk everything which they could pawn to the indulgent
Vaviloff. And thus they passed the autumn days in open
wickedness, in suffering which was eating their hearts out,
unable to rise out of this vicious life and in dread of the still
crueller days of winter.
Kuvalda in such cases came to their assistance with his
philosophy.
"Don't lose your temper, brothers, everything has an end, this is
the chief characteristic of life. The winter will pass, summer
will follow . . . a glorious time, when the very sparrows are
filled with rejoicing." But his speeches did not have any
effect--a mouthful of even the freshest and purest water will not
satisfy a hungry man.
Deacon Taras also tried to amuse the people by singing his songs
and relating his tales.
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