"Well....The old grandfather sat on the earthen mound, lowered his head, and cried.
The boy felt very bad. Then the boy-Kibalchish leapt out onto the street and shouted as loudly as he could:
"Hey, you, children, kids! Are we children only good for playing and skipping rope? Our fathers have gone; our brothers have gone. Are we children just going to sit and wait for the bourgeois to come and take us away into their accursed bourgeois land?"
As soon as the children heard these words, they began to shout out at the tops of their voices! They came running out doors, climbing through windows, and leaping over fences.
They all want to help. Only the little boy Plokhish wanted to join the bourgeois. But this Plokhish was so sneaky that he didn't say anything to anyone. He pulled on his pants and raced along with everyone else as if to help.
The children fought on through the dark night and into the dawn. Only Plokhish did not fight. He was going around looking for a way to help the bourgeois. Behind a small hill, Plokhish sees a pile of boxes, and hidden in these boxes are black bombs, white shells, and yellow cartridges.
"Aha," thought Plokhish, "this is just what I need."
"Well....The old grandfather sat on the earthen mound, lowered his head, and cried.
