"And now," continued the orator, "let us get to business. I think we
understand each other?"
He looked round with an engaging smile upon faces brutal enough to suit
his purpose, but quite devoid of intelligence. There was not much
understanding there.
"The poor man has one only way of making himself felt--force. We have
worked for generations, we have toiled in silence, and we have gathered
strength. The time has now come for us to put forth our strength. The
time has gone by for merely asking for what we want. We asked, and they
heard us not. We will now go and take!"
A few who had heard this speech or something like it before shouted
their applause at this moment. Before the noise had subsided the door
opened, and two or three men pushed their way into the already
overcrowded room.
"Come in, come in!" cried the orator; "the more the better. You are all
welcome. All we require, then, little fathers, is organization. There
are nine hundred souls in Osterno; are you going to bow down before one
man? All men are equal--moujik and barin, krestyanin and prince. Why do
you not go up to the castle that frowns down upon the village, and tell
the man there that you are starving, that he must feed you, that you are
not going to work from dawn till eve while he sits on his velvet couch
and smokes his gold-tipped cigarettes.
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