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the burning heart of the earth. Such tears stamped indelible traces while concealing a whole mass of shallow desires and small sorrows. But when this man wept only his nose reddened a little, and his handkerchief got wet. Surely afterwards he dried it on the clothes-line! or where could he procure so many handkerchiefs? During the whole of his banishment he was seeking out the chief; for all he knew, and for all he only could create in his imagination, he used to bow, to weep, to swear that he was innocent. He asked for mercy, considering his youth, promising not to open his mouth otherwise than for requests and praises.
But everyone laughed at him, just as we had done, and called him “a little unhappy pig.” Sometimes they shouted: “Come here, little pig!”
And he ran obediently at every call, thinking that perhaps he should receive
