Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. An electric light flashed out from the wall.
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