He blinked pitifully, his ears quivered
spasmodically, and his soft little voice also trembled.
"I've struggled hard to make my way among men; I've tried
everything, I've worked like a bull. But life jostled me aside,
crushed me under foot, gave me no chance. All my patience gave
way. Eh! and so I've taken to drink. I feel that I'll be ruined.
Well, that's the only way open to me!"
"Fool!" said Foma with contempt. "Why did you want to make your
way among men? You should have kept away from them, to the right.
Standing aside, you might have seen where your place was among
them, and then gone right to the point!"
"I don't understand your words." The little man shook his close-
cropped, angular head.
Foma laughed, self-satisfied.
"Is it for you to understand it?""No; do you know, I think that
he whom God decreed--"
"Not God, but man arranges life!" Foma blurted out, and was even
himself astonished at the audacity of his words. And the little
man glancing at him askance also shrank timidly.
"Has God given you reason?" asked Foma, recovering from his
embarrassment.
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