One of these came near embroiling me with
Moissey. It was for a revolutionary leader, a Jew, who had
recently escaped from a Siberian prison in a barrel of cabbage and
whose arrival in New York (by way of Japan and San Francisco)
had been the great sensation of the year among the socialists of
the East Side. The new-comer was the founder of a party of
terrorists and had organized a plot which had resulted in the killing
of an uncle of the Czar and of a prime minister. Now, Moissey, in
his rabid, uncompromising way, sympathized with another party
of Russian revolutionists, with one that was bitterly opposed to
the theories and methods of the terrorists. So when he learned that
Anna was collecting funds for the man who had been smuggled
out of jail in a barrel, and that I had given her a check for him, he
flared up and called her "busybody."
"You had better mind your own affairs, Moissey," she retorted,
coloring
She essayed to defend her position, contending that the methods of
the Russian Government rendered terrorism not only justifiable,
but inevitable
"The question is not whether it is justifiable, but whether there is
any sense to it," Moissey replied, sneeringly.
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