Here I was distinguished, more than I had been among my elders.

My hair being curly, it caught a generous number of burrs, so that I fairly bristled with these emblems of mortification and woe.
Not long after that sinful experiment with the handkerchief I discovered by accident that I was not the only doubter in Polotzk.

One Friday night I lay wakeful in my little bed, staring from the dark into the lighted room adjoining mine.

I saw the Sabbath candles sputter and go out, one by one,--it was late,--but the lamp hanging from the ceiling still burned high.

Everybody had gone to bed.