and those of her husband's pupils who were on her list of "good
customers" were sure of immunity from his spear. As I scarcely
ever had a penny, he could safely beat me whenever he was so
disposed

CHAPTER IV THE Cossack had a large family and one of his
daughters, a little girl, named Sarah-Leah, was the heroine of my
first romance.

Sarah-Leah had the misfortune to bear a striking resemblance to a
sister of her father's, an offense which her mother never forgave
her. She treated her as she might a stepdaughter. As for the
Cossack, he may have cared for the child, but if he did he dared
not show it. Poor little Sarah-Leah! She was the outcast of the
family just as I was the outcast of her father's school.

She was about eleven years old and I was somewhat younger. The
similarity of our fates and of our self-pity drew us to each other.
When her father beat me I was conscious of her commiserating
look, and when she was mistreated by her mother she would cast
appealing glances in my direction. Once when the teacher
punished me with special cruelty her face twitched and she broke
into a whimper, whereupon he gave her a kick, saying: "Is it any
business of yours? Thank God your own skin has not been peeled
off."

Once during the lunch hour, when we were alone, Sarah-Leah and
I, in a corner of the courtyard, she said: "You are so strong, Davie!
Nothing hurts you."