And though there are occasions when life seems hard, and the
breast feels filled with fiery rancour, and melancholy dries and
renders athirst the heart's blood, this is not a mood sent us in
perpetuity. For at times even the sun may feel sad as he
contemplates men, and sees that, despite all that he has done
for them, they have done so little in return. . . .

No, it is not that good folk are lacking. It is that they need
to be rounded off--better still, to be made anew.

**********************

Suddenly there came into view over the bushes to my left a file
of dark heads, while through the surging of the waves and the
babble of the stream I caught the sound of human voices, a sound
emanating from a party of " famine people " or folk who were
journeying from Sukhum to Otchenchiri to obtain work on a local
road then in process of construction.

The owners of the voices I knew to be immigrants from the
province of Orlov. I knew them to be so for the reason that I
myself had lately been working in company with the male members
of the party, and had taken leave of them only yesterday in
order that I might set out earlier than they, and, after walking
through the night, greet the sun when he should arise above the
sea.

The members of the party comprised four men and a woman--the
latter a young female with high cheek-bones, a figure swollen