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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33707-8.txt b/33707-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5e5f10 --- /dev/null +++ b/33707-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17295 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Yiddish Tales, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Yiddish Tales + +Author: Various + +Translator: Helena Frank + +Release Date: September 12, 2010 [EBook #33707] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + + + + + + + + +YIDDISH TALES + +TRANSLATED BY +HELENA FRANK + +[Illustration: colophon] + +PHILADELPHIA +THE JEWISH PUBLICATION SOCIETY OF AMERICA +1912 + +COPYRIGHT, 1912, +BY THE JEWISH PUBLICATION SOCIETY OF AMERICA + + + + +PREFACE + + +This little volume is intended to be both companion and complement to +"Stories and Pictures," by I. L. Perez, published by the Jewish +Publication Society of America, in 1906. + +Its object was twofold: to introduce the non-Yiddish reading public to +some of the many other Yiddish writers active in Russian Jewry, and--to +leave it with a more cheerful impression of Yiddish literature than it +receives from Perez alone. Yes, and we have collected, largely from +magazines and papers and unbound booklets, forty-eight tales by twenty +different authors. This, thanks to such kind helpers as Mr. F. Hieger, +of London, without whose aid we should never have been able to collect +the originals of these stories, Mr. Morris Meyer, of London, who most +kindly gave me the magazines, etc., in which some of them were +contained, and Mr. Israel J. Zevin, of New York, that able editor and +delightful _feuilletonist_, to whose critical knowledge of Yiddish +letters we owe so much. + +Some of these writers, Perez, for example, and Sholom-Alechem, are +familiar by name to many of us already, while the reputation of others +rests, in circles enthusiastic but tragically small, on what they have +written in Hebrew.[1] Such are Berdyczewski, Jehalel, Frischmann, +Berschadski, and the silver-penned Judah Steinberg. On these last two be +peace in the Olom ho-Emess. The Olom ha-Sheker had nothing for them but +struggle and suffering and an early grave. + +[1] Berschadski's "Forlorn and Forsaken," Frischmann's "Three +Who Ate," and Steinberg's "A Livelihood" and "At the Matzes," though +here translated from the Yiddish versions, were probably written in +Hebrew originally. In the case of the former two, it would seem that the +Yiddish version was made by the authors themselves, and the same may be +true of Steinberg's tales, too. + +The tales given here are by no means all equal in literary merit, but +they have each its special note, its special echo from that strangely +fascinating world so often quoted, so little understood (we say it +against ourselves), the Russian Ghetto--a world in the passing, but +whose more precious elements, shining, for all who care to see them, +through every page of these unpretending tales, and mixed with less and +less of what has made their misfortune, will surely live on, free, on +the one hand, to blend with all and everything akin to them, and free, +on the other, to develop along their own lines--and this year here, next +year in Jerusalem. + +The American sketches by Zevin and S. Libin differ from the others only +in their scene of action. Lerner's were drawn from the life in a little +town in Bessarabia, the others are mostly Polish. And the folk tale, +which is taken from Joshua Meisach's collection, published in Wilna in +1905, with the title Ma'asiyos vun der Baben, oder Nissim ve-Niflo'os, +might have sprung from almost any Ghetto of the Old World. + +We sincerely regret that nothing from the pen of the beloved +"Grandfather" of Yiddish story-tellers in print, Abramowitsch (Mendele +Mocher Seforim), was found quite suitable for insertion here, his +writings being chiefly much longer than the type selected for this book. +Neither have we come across anything appropriate to our purpose by +another old favorite, J. Dienesohn. We were, however, able to insert +three tales by the veteran author Mordecai Spektor, whose simple style +and familiar figures go straight to the people's heart. + +With regard to the second half of our object, greater cheerfulness, this +collection is an utter failure. It has variety, on account of the many +different authors, and the originals have wit and humor in plenty, for +wit and humor and an almost passionate playfulness are in the very soul +of the language, but it is not cheerful, and we wonder now how we ever +thought it could be so, if the collective picture given of Jewish life +were, despite its fictitious material, to be anything like a true one. +The drollest of the tales, "Gymnasiye" (we refer to the originals), is +perhaps the saddest, anyhow in point of actuality, seeing that the +Russian Government is planning to make education impossible of +attainment by more and more of the Jewish youth--children given into its +keeping as surely as any others, and for the crushing of whose lives it +will have to answer. + +Well, we have done our best. Among these tales are favorites of ours +which we have not so much as mentioned by name, thus leaving the gentle +reader at liberty to make his own. + +H. F. + +LONDON, MARCH, 1911 + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGEMENT + + +The Jewish Publication Society of America desires to acknowledge the +valuable aid which Mr. A. S. Freidus, of the Department of Jewish +Literature, in the New York Public Library, extended to it in compiling +the biographical data relating to the authors whose stories appear in +English garb in the present volume. Some of the authors that are living +in America courteously furnished the Society with the data referring to +their own biographies. + +The following sources have been consulted for the biographies: The +Jewish Encyclopædia; Wiener, History of Yiddish Literature in the +Nineteenth Century; Pinnes, Histoire de la Littérature Judéo-Allemande, +and the Yiddish version of the same, Die Geschichte vun der jüdischer +Literatur; Baal-Mahashabot, Geklibene Schriften; Sefer Zikkaron +le-Sofere Yisrael ha-hayyim ittanu ka-Yom; Eisenstadt, Hakme Yisrael +be-Amerika; the memoirs preceding the collected works of some of the +authors; and scattered articles in European and American Yiddish +periodicals. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE 5 + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT 8 + +REUBEN ASHER BRAUBES +The Misfortune 13 + +JEHALEL (JUDAH LÖB LEWIN) +Earth of Palestine 29 + +ISAAC LÖB PEREZ +A Woman's Wrath 55 +The Treasure 62 +It Is Well 67 +Whence a Proverb 73 + +MORDECAI SPEKTOR +An Original Strike 83 +A Gloomy Wedding 91 +Poverty 107 + +SHOLOM-ALECHEM (SHALOM RABINOVITZ) +The Clock 115 +Fishel the Teacher 125 +An Easy Fast 143 +The Passover Guest 153 +Gymnasiye 162 + +ELIEZER DAVID ROSENTHAL +Sabbath 183 +Yom Kippur 189 + +ISAIAH LERNER +Bertzi Wasserführer 211 +Ezrielk the Scribe 219 +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber 236 + +JUDAH STEINBERG +A Livelihood 251 +At the Matzes 259 + +DAVID FRISCHMANN +Three Who Ate 269 + +MICHA JOSEPH BERDYCZEWSKI +Military Service 281 + +ISAIAH BERSCHADSKI +Forlorn and Forsaken 295 + +TASHRAK (ISRAEL JOSEPH ZEVIN) +The Hole in a Beigel 309 +As the Years Roll On 312 + +DAVID PINSKI +Reb Shloimeh 319 + +S. LIBIN (ISRAEL HUBEWITZ) +A Picnic 357 +Manasseh 366 +Yohrzeit for Mother 371 +Slack Times They Sleep 377 + +ABRAHAM RAISIN +Shut In 385 +The Charitable Loan 389 +The Two Brothers 397 +Lost His Voice 405 +Late 415 +The Kaddish 421 +Avròhom the Orchard-Keeper 427 + +HIRSH DAVID NAUMBERG +The Rav and the Rav's Son 435 + +MEYER BLINKIN +Women 449 + +LÖB SCHAPIRO +If It Was a Dream 481 + +SHALOM ASCH +A Simple Story 493 +A Jewish Child 506 +A Scholar's Mother 514 +The Sinner 529 + +ISAAC DOB BERKOWITZ +Country Folk 543 +The Last of Them 566 + +A FOLK TALE +The Clever Rabbi 581 + +GLOSSARY AND NOTES 589 + + + + +REUBEN ASHER BRAUDES + +Born, 1851, in Wilna (Lithuania), White Russia; went to Roumania +after the anti-Jewish riots of 1882, and published a Yiddish +weekly, Yehudit, in the interest of Zionism; expelled from +Roumania; published a Hebrew weekly, Ha-Zeman, in Cracow, in 1891; +then co-editor of the Yiddish edition of Die Welt, the official +organ of Zionism; Hebrew critic, publicist, and novelist; +contributor to Ha-Lebanon (at eighteen), Ha-Shahar, Ha-Boker Or, +and other periodicals; chief work, the novel "Religion and Life." + + + + +THE MISFORTUNE + +OR HOW THE RAV OF PUMPIAN TRIED TO SOLVE A SOCIAL PROBLEM + + +Pumpian is a little town in Lithuania, a Jewish town. It lies far away +from the highway, among villages reached by the Polish Road. The +inhabitants of Pumpian are poor people, who get a scanty living from the +peasants that come into the town to make purchases, or else the Jews go +out to them with great bundles on their shoulders and sell them every +sort of small ware, in return for a little corn, or potatoes, etc. +Strangers, passing through, are seldom seen there, and if by any chance +a strange person arrives, it is a great wonder and rarity. People peep +at him through all the little windows, elderly men venture out to bid +him welcome, while boys and youths hang about in the street and stare at +him. The women and girls blush and glance at him sideways, and he is the +one subject of conversation: "Who can that be? People don't just set off +and come like that--there must be something behind it." And in the +house-of-study, between Afternoon and Evening Prayer, they gather +closely round the elder men, who have been to greet the stranger, to +find out who and what the latter may be. + +Fifty or sixty years ago, when what I am about to tell you happened, +communication between Pumpian and the rest of the world was very +restricted indeed: there were as yet no railways, there was no +telegraph, the postal service was slow and intermittent. People came +and went less often, a journey was a great undertaking, and there were +not many outsiders to be found even in the larger towns. Every town was +a town to itself, apart, and Pumpian constituted a little world of its +own, which had nothing to do with the world at large, and lived its own +life. + +Neither were there so many newspapers then, anywhere, to muddle people's +heads every day of the week, stirring up questions, so that people +should have something to talk about, and the Jews had no papers of their +own at all, and only heard "news" and "what was going on in the world" +in the house-of-study or (lehavdil!) in the bath-house. And what sort of +news was it _then_? What sort could it be? World-stirring questions +hardly existed (certainly Pumpian was ignorant of them): politics, +economics, statistics, capital, social problems, all these words, now on +the lips of every boy and girl, were then all but unknown even in the +great world, let alone among us Jews, and let alone to Reb Nochumtzi, +the Pumpian Rav! + +And yet Reb Nochumtzi had a certain amount of worldly wisdom of his own. + +Reb Nochumtzi was a native of Pumpian, and had inherited his position +there from his father. He had been an only son, made much of by his +parents (hence the pet name Nochumtzi clinging to him even in his old +age), and never let out of their sight. When he had grown up, they +connected him by marriage with the tenant of an estate not far from the +town, but his father would not hear of his going there "auf Köst," as +the custom is. "I cannot be parted from my Nochumtzi even for a minute," +explained the old Rav, "I cannot bear him out of my sight. Besides, we +study together." And, in point of fact, they did study together day and +night. It was evident that the Rav was determined his Nochumtzi should +become Rav in Pumpian after his death--and so he became. + +He had been Rav some years in the little town, receiving the same five +Polish gulden a week salary as his father (on whom be peace!), and he +sat and studied and thought. He had nothing much to do in the way of +exercising authority: the town was very quiet, the people orderly, there +were no quarrels, and it was seldom that parties went "to law" with one +another before the Rav; still less often was there a ritual question to +settle: the folk were poor, there was no meat cooked in a Jewish house +from one Friday to another, when one must have a bit of meat in honor of +Sabbath. Fish was a rarity, and in summer time people often had a "milky +Sabbath," as well as a milky week. How should there be "questions"? So +he sat and studied and thought, and he was very fond indeed of thinking +about the world! + +It is true that he sat all day in his room, that he had never in all his +life been so much as "four ells" outside the town, that it had never so +much as occurred to him to drive about a little in any direction, for, +after all, whither should he drive? And why drive anywhither? And yet he +knew the world, like any other learned man, a disciple of the wise. +Everything is in the Torah, and out of the Torah, out of the Gemoreh, +and out of all the other sacred books, Reb Nochumtzi had learned to +know the world also. He knew that "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow," that +"a spark from a smith's hammer can burn a wagon-load of hay," that "Reb +Eliezer ben Charsum had a thousand towns on land and a thousand ships on +the sea." Ha, that was a fortune! He must have been nearly as rich as +Rothschild (they knew about Rothschild even in Pumpian!). "Yes, he was a +rich Tano and no mistake!" he reflected, and was straightway sunk in the +consideration of the subject of rich and poor. + +He knew from the holy books that to be rich is a pure misfortune. King +Solomon, who was certainly a great sage, prayed to God: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li!--"Give me neither poverty nor _riches_!" He said that +"riches are stored to the hurt of their owner," and in the holy Gemoreh +there is a passage which says, "Poverty becomes a Jew as scarlet reins +become a white horse," and once a sage had been in Heaven for a short +time and had come back again, and he said that he had seen poor people +there occupying the principal seats in the Garden of Eden, and the rich +pushed right away, back into a corner by the door. And as for the books +of exhortation, there are things written that make you shudder in every +limb. The punishments meted out to the rich by God in that world, the +world of truth, are no joke. For what bit of merit they have, God +rewards them in _this_ poor world, the world of vanity, while yonder, in +the world of truth, they arrive stript and naked, without so much as a +taste of Kingdom-come! + +"Consequently, the question is," thought Reb Nochumtzi, "why should +they, the rich, want to keep this misfortune? Of what use is this +misfortune to them? Who so mad as to take such a piece of misfortune +into his house and keep it there? How can anyone take the world-to-come +in both hands and lose it for the sake of such vanities?" + +He thought and thought, and thought it over again: + +"What is a poor creature to do when God sends him the misfortune of +riches? He would certainly wish to get rid of them, only who would take +his misfortune to please him? Who would free another from a curse and +take it upon himself? + +"But, after all ... ha?" the Evil Spirit muttered inside him. + +"What a fool you are!" thought Reb Nochumtzi again. "If" (and he +described a half-circle downward in the air with his thumb), "if +troubles come to us, such as an illness (may the Merciful protect us!), +or some other misfortune of the kind, it is expressly stated in the +Sacred Writings that it is an expiation for sin, a torment sent into the +world, so that we may be purified by it, and made fit to go straight to +Paradise. And because it is God who afflicts men with these things, we +cannot give them away to anyone else, but have to bear with them. Now, +such a misfortune as being rich, which is also a visitation of God, must +certainly be borne with like the rest. + +"And, besides," he reflected further, "the fool who would take the +misfortune to himself, doesn't exist! What healthy man in his senses +would get into a sick-bed?" + +He began to feel very sorry for Reb Eliezer ben Charsum with his +thousand towns and his thousand ships. "To think that such a saint, such +a Tano, one of the authors of the holy Mishnah, should incur such a +severe punishment! + +"But he stood the trial! Despite this great misfortune, he remained a +saint and a Tano to the end, and the holy Gemoreh says particularly that +he thereby put to shame all the rich people, who go straight to +Gehenna." + +Thus Reb Nochumtzi, the Pumpian Rav, sat over the Talmud and reflected +continually on the problem of great riches. He knew the world through +the Holy Scriptures, and was persuaded that riches were a terrible +misfortune, which had to be borne, because no one would consent to +taking it from another, and bearing it for him. + + * * * * * + +Again many years passed, and Reb Nochumtzi gradually came to see that +poverty also is a misfortune, and out of his own experience. + +His Sabbath cloak began to look threadbare (the weekday one was already +patched on every side), he had six little children living, one or two of +the girls were grown up, and it was time to think of settling them, and +they hadn't a frock fit to put on. The five Polish gulden a week salary +was not enough to keep them in bread, and the wife, poor thing, wept the +whole day through: "Well, there, ich wie ich, it isn't for myself--but +the poor children are naked and barefoot." + +At last they were even short of bread. + +"Nochumtzi! Why don't you speak?" exclaimed his wife with tears in her +eyes. "Nochumtzi, can't you hear me? I tell you, we're starving! The +children are skin and bone, they haven't a shirt to their back, they can +hardly keep body and soul together. Think of a way out of it, invent +something to help us!" + +And Reb Nochumtzi sat and considered. + +He was considering the other misfortune--poverty. + +"It is equally a misfortune to be really very poor." + +And this also he found stated in the Holy Scriptures. + +It was King Solomon, the famous sage, who prayed as well: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li, that is, "Give me neither _poverty_ nor riches." Aha! +poverty is no advantage, either, and what does the holy Gemoreh say but +"Poverty diverts a man from the way of God"? In fact, there is a second +misfortune in the world, and one he knows very well, one with which he +has a practical, working acquaintance, he and his wife and his children. + +And Reb Nochum pursued his train of thought: + +"So there are two contrary misfortunes in the world: this way it's bad, +and that way it's bitter! Is there really no remedy? Can no one suggest +any help?" + +And Reb Nochumtzi began to pace the room up and down, lost in thought, +bending his whole mind to the subject. A whole flight of Bible texts +went through his head, a quantity of quotations from the Gemoreh, +hundreds of stories and anecdotes from the "Fountain of Jacob," the +Midrash, and other books, telling of rich and poor, fortunate and +unfortunate people, till his head went round with them all as he +thought. Suddenly he stood still in the middle of the room, and began +talking to himself: + +"Aha! Perhaps I've discovered a plan after all! And a good plan, too, +upon my word it is! Once more: it is quite certain that there will +always be more poor than rich--lots more! Well, and it's quite certain +that every rich man would like to be rid of his misfortune, only that +there is no one willing to take it from him--no _one_, not any _one_, of +course not. Nobody would be so mad. But we have to find out a way by +which _lots and lots_ of people should rid him of his misfortune little +by little. What do you say to that? Once more: that means that we must +take his unfortunate riches and divide them among a quantity of poor! +That will be a good thing for both parties: he will be easily rid of his +great misfortune, and they would be helped, too, and the petition of +King Solomon would be established, when he said, 'Give me neither +poverty nor riches.' It would come true of them all, there would be no +riches and no poverty. Ha? What do you think of it? Isn't it really and +truly an excellent idea?" + +Reb Nochumtzi was quite astonished himself at the plan he had invented, +cold perspiration ran down his face, his eyes shone brighter, a happy +smile played on his lips. "That's the thing to do!" he explained aloud, +sat down by the table, blew his nose, wiped his face, and felt very +glad. + +"There is only one difficulty about it," occurred to him, when he had +quieted down a little from his excitement, "one thing that doesn't fit +in. It says particularly in the Torah that there will always be poor +people among the Jews, 'the poor shall not cease out of the land.' There +must always be poor, and this would make an end of them altogether! +Besides, the precept concerning charity would, Heaven forbid, be +annulled, the precept which God, blessed is He, wrote in the Torah, and +which the holy Gemoreh and all the other holy books make so much of. +What is to become of the whole treatise on charity in the Shulchan +Aruch? How can we continue to fulfil it?" + +But a good head is never at a loss! Reb Nochumtzi soon found a way out +of the difficulty. + +"Never mind!" and he wrinkled his forehead, and pondered on. "There is +no fear! Who said that even the whole of the money in the possession of +a few unfortunate rich men will be enough to go round? That there will +be just enough to help all the Jewish poor? No fear, there will be +enough poor left for the exercise of charity. Ai wos? There is another +thing: to whom shall be given and to whom not? Ha, that's a detail, too. +Of course, one would begin with the learned and the poor scholars and +sages, who have to live on the Torah and on Divine Service. The people +can just be left to go on as it is. No fear, but it will be all right!" + +At last the plan was ready. Reb Nochumtzi thought it over once more, +very carefully, found it complete from every point of view, and gave +himself up to a feeling of satisfaction and delight. + +"Dvoireh!" he called to his wife, "Dvoireh, don't cry! Please God, it +will be all right, quite all right. I've thought out a plan.... A +little patience, and it will all come right!" + +"Whatever? What sort of plan?" + +"There, there, wait and see and hold your tongue! No woman's brain could +take it in. You leave it to me, it will be all right!" + +And Reb Nochumtzi reflected further: + +"Yes, the plan is a good one. Only, how is it to be carried out? With +whom am I to begin?" + +And he thought of all the householders in Pumpian, but--there was not +one single unfortunate man among them! That is, not one of them had +money, a real lot of money; there was nobody with whom to discuss his +invention to any purpose. + +"If so, I shall have to drive to one of the large towns!" + +And one Sabbath the beadle gave out in the house-of-study that the Rav +begged them all to be present that evening at a convocation. + +At the said convocation the Rav unfolded his whole plan to the people, +and placed before them the happiness that would result for the whole +world, if it were to be realized. But first of all he must journey to a +large town, in which there were a great many unfortunate rich people, +preferably Wilna, and he demanded of his flock that they should furnish +him with the necessary means for getting there. + +The audience did not take long to reflect, they agreed to the Rav's +proposal, collected a few rubles (for who would not give their last +farthing for such an important object?), and on Sunday morning early +they hired him a peasant's cart and horse--and the Rav drove away to +Wilna. + +The Rav passed the drive marshalling his arguments, settling on what he +should say, and how he should explain himself, and he was delighted to +see how, the more deeply he pondered his plan, the more he thought it +out, the more efficient and appropriate it appeared, and the clearer he +saw what happiness it would bestow on men all the world over. + +The small cart arrived at Wilna. + +"Whither are we to drive?" asked the peasant. + +"Whither? To a Jew," answered the Rav. "For where is the Jew who will +not give me a night's lodging?" + +"And I, with my cart and horse?" + +The Rav sat perplexed, but a Jew passing by heard the conversation, and +explained to him that Wilna is not Pumpian, and that they would have to +drive to a post-house, or an inn. + +"Be it so!" said the Rav, and the Jew gave him the address of a place to +which they should drive. + +Wilna! It is certainly not the same thing as Pumpian. Now, for the first +time in his life, the Rav saw whole streets of tall houses, of two and +three stories, all as it were under one roof, and how fine they are, +thought he, with their decorated exteriors! + +"Oi, there live the unfortunate people!" said Reb Nochumtzi to himself. +"I never saw anything like them before! How can they bear such a +misfortune? I shall come to them as an angel of deliverance!" + +He had made up his mind to go to the principal Jewish citizen in Wilna, +only he must be a good scholar, so as to understand what Reb Nochumtzi +had to say to him. + +They advised him to go to the president of the Congregation. + +Every street along which he passed astonished him separately, the +houses, the pavements, the droshkis and carriages, and especially the +people, so beautifully got up with gold watch-chains and rings--he was +quite bewildered, so that he was afraid he might lose his senses, and +forget all his arguments and his reasonings. + +At last he arrived at the president's house. + +"He lives on the first floor." Another surprise! Reb Nochumtzi was +unused to stairs. There was no storied house in all Pumpian! But when +you must, you must! One way and another he managed to arrive at the +first-floor landing, where he opened the door, and said, all in one +breath: + +"I am the Pumpian Rav, and have something to say to the president." + +The president, a handsome old man, very busy just then with some +merchants who had come on business, stood up, greeted him politely, and +opening the door of the reception-room said to him: + +"Please, Rabbi, come in here and wait a little. I shall soon have +finished, and then I will come to you here." + +Expensive furniture, large mirrors, pictures, softly upholstered chairs, +tables, cupboards with shelves full of great silver candlesticks, cups, +knives and forks, a beautiful lamp, and many other small objects, all +of solid silver, wardrobes with carving in different designs; then, +painted walls, a great silver chandelier decorated with cut glass, +fascinating to behold! Reb Nochumtzi actually had tears in his eyes, "To +think of anyone's being so unfortunate--and to have to bear it!" + +"What can I do for you, Pumpian Rav?" inquired the president. + +And Reb Nochumtzi, overcome by amazement and enthusiasm, nearly shouted: + +"You are so unfortunate!" + +The president stared at him, shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. + +Then Reb Nochumtzi laid his whole plan before him, the object of his +coming. + +"I will be frank with you," he said in concluding his long speech, "I +had no idea of the extent of the misfortune! To the rescue, men, save +yourselves! Take it to heart, think of what it means to have houses like +these, and all these riches--it is a most terrible misfortune! Now I see +what a reform of the whole world my plan amounts to, what deliverance it +will bring to all men!" + +The president looked him straight in the face: he saw the man was not +mad, but that he had the limited horizon of one born and bred in a small +provincial town and in the atmosphere of the house-of-study. + +He also saw that it would be impossible to convince him by proofs that +his idea was a mistaken one; for a little while he pitied him in +silence, then he hit upon an expedient, and said: + +"You are quite right, Rabbi! Your plan is really a very good one. But I +am only one of many, Wilna is full of such unfortunate people. Everyone +of them must be talked to, and have the thing explained to him. Then, +the other party must be spoken to as well, I mean the poor people, so +that they shall be willing to take their share of the misfortune. That's +not such an easy matter as giving a thing away and getting rid of it." + +"Of course, of course...." agreed Reb Nochumtzi. + +"Look here, Rav of Pumpian, I will undertake the more difficult +part--let us work together! You shall persuade the rich to give away +their misfortune, and I will persuade the poor to take it! Your share of +the work will be the easier, because, after all, everybody wants to be +rid of his misfortune. Do your part, and as soon as you have finished +with the rich, I will arrange for you to be met half-way by the +poor...." + + * * * * * + +History does not tell how far the Rav of Pumpian succeeded in Wilna. +Only this much is certain, the president never saw him again. + + + + +JEHALEL + +Pen name of Judah Löb Lewin; born, 1845, in Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; tutor; treasurer to the Brodski flour mills and their sugar +refinery, at Tomaschpol, Podolia, later in Kieff; began to write in +1860; translator of Beaconsfield's Tancred into Hebrew; Talmudist; +mystic; first Socialist writer in Hebrew; writer, chiefly in Hebrew, of +prose and poetry; contributor to Sholom-Alechem's Jüdische +Volksbibliothek, Ha-Shahar, Ha-Meliz, Ha-Zeflrah, and other +periodicals. + + + + +EARTH OF PALESTINE + + +As my readers know, I wanted to do a little stroke of business--to sell +the world-to-come. I must tell you that I came out of it very badly, and +might have fallen into some misfortune, if I had had the ware in stock. +It fell on this wise: Nowadays everyone is squeezed and stifled; +Parnosseh is gone to wrack and ruin, and there is no business--I mean, +there _is_ business, only not for us Jews. In such bitter times people +snatch the bread out of each other's mouths; if it is known that someone +has made a find, and started a business, they quickly imitate him; if +that one opens a shop, a second does likewise, and a third, and a +fourth; if this one makes a contract, the other runs and will do it for +less--"Even if I earn nothing, no more will you!" + +When I gave out that I had the world-to-come to sell, lots of people +gave a start, "Aha! a business!" and before they knew what sort of ware +it was, and where it was to be had, they began thinking about a +shop--and there was still greater interest shown on the part of certain +philanthropists, party leaders, public workers, and such-like. They knew +that when I set up trading in the world-to-come, I had announced that my +business was only with the poor. Well, they understood that it was +likely to be profitable, and might give them the chance of licking a +bone or two. There was very soon a great tararam in our little world, +people began inquiring where my goods came from. They surrounded me with +spies, who were to find out what I did at night, what I did on Sabbath; +they questioned the cook, the market-woman; but in vain, they could not +find out how I came by the world-to-come. And there blazed up a fire of +jealousy and hatred, and they began to inform, to write letters to the +authorities about me. Laban the Yellow and Balaam the Blind (you know +them!) made my boss believe that I do business, that is, that I have +capital, that is--that is--but my employer investigated the matter, and +seeing that my stock in trade was the world-to-come, he laughed, and let +me alone. The townspeople among whom it was my lot to dwell, those good +people who are a great hand at fishing in troubled waters, as soon as +they saw the mud rise, snatched up their implements and set to work, +informing by letter that I was dealing in contraband. There appeared a +red official and swept out a few corners in my house, but without +finding a single specimen bit of the world-to-come, and went away. But I +had no peace even then; every day came a fresh letter informing against +me. My good brothers never ceased work. The pious, orthodox Jews, the +Gemoreh-Köplech, informed, and said I was a swindler, because the +world-to-come is a thing that isn't there, that is neither fish, flesh, +fowl, nor good red herring, and the whole thing was a delusion; the +half-civilized people with long trousers and short earlocks said, on the +contrary, that I was making game of religion, so that before long I had +enough of it from every side, and made the following resolutions: first, +that I would have nothing to do with the world-to-come and such-like +things which the Jews did not understand, although they held them very +precious; secondly, that I would not let myself in for selling +anything. One of my good friends, an experienced merchant, advised me +rather to buy than to sell: "There are so many to sell, they will +compete with you, inform against you, and behave as no one should. +Buying, on the other hand--if you want to buy, you will be esteemed and +respected, everyone will flatter you, and be ready to sell to you on +credit--everyone is ready to take money, and with very little capital +you can buy the best and most expensive ware." The great thing was to +get a good name, and then, little by little, by means of credit, one +might rise very high. + +So it was settled that I should buy. I had a little money on hand for a +couple of newspaper articles, for which nowadays they pay; I had a bit +of reputation earned by a great many articles in Hebrew, for which I +received quite nice complimentary letters; and, in case of need, there +is a little money owing to me from certain Jewish booksellers of the +Maskilim, for books bought "on commission." Well, I am resolved to buy. + +But what shall I buy? I look round and take note of all the things a man +can buy, and see that I, as a Jew, may not have them; that which I may +buy, no matter where, isn't worth a halfpenny; a thing that is of any +value, I can't have. And I determine to take to the old ware which my +great-great-grandfathers bought, and made a fortune in. My parents and +the whole family wish for it every day. I resolve to buy--you understand +me?--earth of Palestine, and I announce both verbally and in writing to +all my good and bad brothers that I wish to become a purchaser of the +ware. + +Oh, what a commotion it made! Hardly was it known that I wished to buy +Palestinian earth, than there pounced upon me people of whom I had never +thought it possible that they should talk to me, and be in the room with +me. The first to come was a kind of Jew with a green shawl, with white +shoes, a pale face with a red nose, dark eyes, and yellow earlocks. He +commenced unpacking paper and linen bags, out of which he shook a little +sand, and he said to me: "That is from Mother Rachel's grave, from the +Shunammite's grave, from the graves of Huldah the prophetess and +Deborah." Then he shook out the other bags, and mentioned a whole list +of men: from the grave of Enoch, Moses our Teacher, Elijah the Prophet, +Habakkuk, Ezekiel, Jonah, authors of the Talmud, and holy men as many as +there be. He assured me that each kind of sand had its own precious +distinction, and had, of course, its special price. I had not had time +to examine all the bags of sand, when, aha! I got a letter written on +blue paper in Rashi script, in which an unknown well-wisher earnestly +warned me against buying of _that_ Jew, for neither he nor his father +before him had ever been in Palestine, and he had got the sand in K., +from the Andreiyeff Hills yonder, and that if I wished for it, _he_ had +_real_ Palestinian earth, from the Mount of Olives, with a document from +the Palestinian vicegerent, the Brisk Rebbetzin, to the effect that she +had given of this earth even to the eaters of swine's flesh, of whom it +is said, "for their worm shall not die," and they also were saved from +worms. My Palestinian Jew, after reading the letter, called down all bad +dreams upon the head of the Brisk Rebbetzin, and declared among other +things that she herself was a dreadful worm, who, etc. He assured me +that I ought not to send money to the Brisk Rebbetzin, "May Heaven +defend you! it will be thrown away, as it has been a hundred times +already!" and began once more to praise _his_ wares, his earth, saying +it was a marvel. I answered him that I wanted real earth of Palestine, +_earth_, not sand out of little bags. + +"Earth, it _is_ earth!" he repeated, and became very angry. "What do you +mean by earth? Am I offering you mud? But that is the way with people +nowadays, when they want something Jewish, there is no pleasing them! +Only" (a thought struck him) "if you want another sort, perhaps from the +field of Machpelah, I can bring you some Palestinian earth that _is_ +earth. Meantime give me something in advance, for, besides everything +else, I am a Palestinian Jew." + +I pushed a coin into his hand, and he went away. Meanwhile the news had +spread, my intention to purchase earth of Palestine had been noised +abroad, and the little town echoed with my name. In the streets, lanes, +and market-place, the talk was all of me and of how "there is no putting +a final value on a Jewish soul: one thought he was one of _them_, and +now he wants to buy earth of Palestine!" Many of those who met me looked +at me askance, "The same and _not_ the same!" In the synagogue they gave +me the best turn at the Reading of the Law; Jews in shoes and socks +wished me "a good Sabbath" with great heartiness, and a friendly smile: +"Eh-eh-eh! We understand--you are a deep one--you are one of us after +all." In short, they surrounded me, and nearly carried me on their +shoulders, so that I really became something of a celebrity. + +Yüdel, the "living orphan," worked the hardest. Yüdel is already a man +in years, but everyone calls him the "orphan" on account of what befell +him on a time. His history is very long and interesting, I will tell it +you in brief. + +He has a very distinguished father and a very noble mother, and he is an +only child, of a very frolicsome disposition, on account of which his +father and his mother frequently disagreed; the father used to punish +him and beat him, but the boy hid with his mother. In a word, it came to +this, that his father gave him into the hands of strangers, to be +educated and put into shape. The mother could not do without him, and +fell sick of grief; she became a wreck. Her beautiful house was burnt +long ago through the boy's doing: one day, when a child, he played with +fire, and there was a conflagration, and the neighbors came and built on +the site of her palace, and she, the invalid, lies neglected in a +corner. The father, who has left the house, often wished to rejoin her, +but by no manner of means can they live together without the son, and so +the cast-off child became a "living orphan"; he roams about in the wide +world, comes to a place, and when he has stayed there a little while, +they drive him out, because wherever he comes, he stirs up a commotion. +As is the way with all orphans, he has many fathers, and everyone +directs him, hits him, lectures him; he is always in the way, blamed for +everything, it's always his fault, so that he has got into the habit of +cowering and shrinking at the mere sight of a stick. Wandering about as +he does, he has copied the manners and customs of strange people, in +every place where he has been; his very character is hardly his own. His +father has tried both to threaten and to persuade him into coming back, +saying they would then all live together as before, but Yüdel has got to +like living from home, he enjoys the scrapes he gets into, and even the +blows they earn for him. No matter how people knock him about, pull his +hair, and draw his blood, the moment they want him to make friendly +advances, there he is again, alert and smiling, turns the world +topsyturvy, and won't hear of going home. It is remarkable that Yüdel, +who is no fool, and has a head for business, the instant people look +kindly on him, imagines they like him, although he has had a thousand +proofs to the contrary. He has lately been of such consequence in the +eyes of the world that they have begun to treat him in a new way, and +they drive him out of every place at once. The poor boy has tried his +best to please, but it was no good, they knocked him about till he was +covered with blood, took every single thing he had, and empty-handed, +naked, hungry, and beaten as he is, they shout at him "Be off!" from +every side. Now he lives in narrow streets, in the small towns, hidden +away in holes and corners. He very often hasn't enough to eat, but he +goes on in his old way, creeps into tight places, dances at all the +weddings, loves to meddle, everything concerns him, and where two come +together, he is the third. + +I have known him a long time, ever since he was a little boy. He always +struck me as being very wild, but I saw that he was of a noble +disposition, only that he had grown rough from living among strangers. I +loved him very much, but in later years he treated me to hot and cold by +turns. I must tell you that when Yüdel had eaten his fill, he was always +very merry, and minded nothing; but when he had been kicked out by his +landlord, and went hungry, then he was angry, and grew violent over +every trifle. He would attack me for nothing at all, we quarrelled and +parted company, that is, I loved him at a distance. When he wasn't just +in my sight, I felt a great pity for him, and a wish to go to him; but +hardly had I met him than he was at the old game again, and I had to +leave him. Now that I was together with him in my native place, I found +him very badly off, he hadn't enough to eat. The town was small and +poor, and he had no means of supporting himself. When I saw him in his +bitter and dark distress, my heart went out to him. But at such times, +as I said before, he is very wild and fanatical. One day, on the Ninth +of Ab, I felt obliged to speak out, and tell him that sitting in socks, +with his forehead on the ground, reciting Lamentations, would do no +good. Yüdel misunderstood me, and thought I was laughing at Jerusalem. +He began to fire up, and he spread reports of me in the town, and when +he saw me in the distance, he would spit out before me. His anger dated +from some time past, because one day I turned him out of my house; he +declared that I was the cause of all his misfortunes, and now that I was +his neighbor, I had resolved to ruin him; he believed that I hated him +and played him false. Why should Yüdel think that? I don't know. +Perhaps he feels one ought to dislike him, or else he is so embittered +that he cannot believe in the kindly feelings of others. However that +may be, Yüdel continued to speak ill of me, and throw mud at me through +the town; crying out all the while that I hadn't a scrap of Jewishness +in me. + +Now that he heard I was buying Palestinian earth, he began by refusing +to believe it, and declared it was a take-in and the trick of an +apostate, for how could a person who laughed at socks on the Ninth of Ab +really want to buy earth of Palestine? But when he saw the green shawls +and the little bags of earth, he went over--a way he has--to the +opposite, the exact opposite. He began to worship me, couldn't praise me +enough, and talked of me in the back streets, so that the women blessed +me aloud. Yüdel was now much given to my company, and often came in to +see me, and was most intimate, although there was no special piousness +about me. I was just the same as before, but Yüdel took this for the +best of signs, and thought it proved me to be of extravagant hidden +piety. + +"There's a Jew for you!" he would cry aloud in the street. "Earth of +Palestine! There's a Jew!" + +In short, he filled the place with my Jewishness and my hidden +orthodoxy. I looked on with indifference, but after a while the affair +began to cost me both time and money. + +The Palestinian beggars and, above all, Yüdel and the townsfolk obtained +for me the reputation of piety, and there came to me orthodox Jews, +treasurers, cabalists, beggar students, and especially the Rebbe's +followers; they came about me like bees. They were never in the habit +of avoiding me, but this was another thing all the same. Before this, +when one of the Rebbe's disciples came, he would enter with a respectful +demeanor, take off his hat, and, sitting in his cap, would fix his gaze +on my mouth with a sweet smile; we both felt that the one and only link +between us lay in the money that I gave and he took. He would take it +gracefully, put it into his purse, as it might be for someone else, and +thank me as though he appreciated my kindness. When _I_ went to see +_him_, he would place a chair for me, and give me preserve. But now he +came to me with a free and easy manner, asked for a sip of brandy with a +snack to eat, sat in my room as if it were his own, and looked at me as +if I were an underling, and he had authority over me; I am the penitent +sinner, it is said, and that signifies for him the key to the door of +repentance; I have entered into his domain, and he is my lord and +master; he drinks my health as heartily as though it were his own, and +when I press a coin into his hand, he looks at it well, to make sure it +is worth his while accepting it. If I happen to visit him, I am on a +footing with all his followers, the Chassidim; his "trustees," and all +his other hangers-on, are my brothers, and come to me when they please, +with all the mud on their boots, put their hand into my bosom and take +out my tobacco-pouch, and give it as their opinion that the brandy is +weak, not to talk of holidays, especially Purim and Rejoicing of the +Law, when they troop in with a great noise and vociferation, and drink +and dance, and pay as much attention to me as to the cat. + +In fact, all the townsfolk took the same liberties with me. Before, they +asked nothing of me, and took me as they found me, now they began to +_demand_ things of me and to inquire why I didn't do this, and why I did +that, and not the other. Shmuelke the bather asked me why I was never +seen at the bath on Sabbath. Kalmann the butcher wanted to know why, +among the scape-fowls, there wasn't a white one of mine; and even the +beadle of the Klaus, who speaks through his nose, and who had never +dared approach me, came and insisted on giving me the thirty-nine +stripes on the eve of the Day of Atonement: "Eh-eh, if you are a Jew +like other Jews, come and lie down, and you shall be given stripes!" + +And the Palestinian Jews never ceased coming with their bags of earth, +and I never ceased rejecting. One day there came a broad-shouldered Jew +from "over there," with his bag of Palestinian earth. The earth pleased +me, and a conversation took place between us on this wise: + +"How much do you want for your earth?" + +"For my earth? From anyone else I wouldn't take less than thirty rubles, +but from you, knowing you and _of_ you as I do, and as your parents did +so much for Palestine, I will take a twenty-five ruble piece. You must +know that a person buys this once and for all." + +"I don't understand you," I answered. "Twenty-five rubles! How much +earth have you there?" + +"How much earth have I? About half a quart. There will be enough to +cover the eyes and the face. Perhaps you want to cover the whole body, +to have it underneath and on the top and at the sides? O, I can bring +you some more, but it will cost you two or three hundred rubles, +because, since the good-for-nothings took to coming to Palestine, the +earth has got very expensive. Believe me, I don't make much by it, it +costs me nearly...." + +"I don't understand you, my friend! What's this about bestrewing the +body? What do you mean by it?" + +"How do you mean, 'what do you mean by it?' Bestrewing the body like +that of all honest Jews, after death." + +"Ha? After death? To preserve it?" + +"Yes, what else?" + +"I don't want it for that, I don't mind what happens to my body after +death. I want to buy Palestinian earth for my lifetime." + +"What do you mean? What good can it do you while you're alive? You are +not talking to the point, or else you are making game of a poor +Palestinian Jew?" + +"I am speaking seriously. I want it now, while I live! What is it you +don't understand?" + +My Palestinian Jew was greatly perplexed, but he quickly collected +himself, and took in the situation. I saw by his artful smile that he +had detected a strain of madness in me, and what should he gain by +leading me into the paths of reason? Rather let him profit by it! And +this he proceeded to do, saying with winning conviction: + +"Yes, of course, you are right! How right you are! May I ever see the +like! People are not wrong when they say, 'The apple falls close to the +tree'! You are drawn to the root, and you love the soil of Palestine, +only in a different way, like your holy forefathers, may they be good +advocates! You are young, and I am old, and I have heard how they used +to bestrew their head-dress with it in their lifetime, so as to fulfil +the Scripture verse, 'And have pity on Zion's dust,' and honest Jews +shake earth of Palestine into their shoes on the eve of the Ninth of Ab, +and at the meal before the fast they dip an egg into Palestinian +earth--nu, fein! I never expected so much of you, and I can say with +truth, 'There's a Jew for you!' Well, in that case, you will require two +pots of the earth, but it will cost you a deal." + +"We are evidently at cross-purposes," I said to him. "What are two +potfuls? What is all this about bestrewing the body? I want to buy +Palestinian earth, earth in Palestine, do you understand? I want to buy, +in Palestine, a little bit of earth, a few dessiatines." + +"Ha? I didn't quite catch it. What did you say?" and my Palestinian Jew +seized hold of his right ear, as though considering what he should do; +then he said cheerfully: "Ha--aha! You mean to secure for yourself a +burial-place, also for after death! O yes, indeed, you are a holy man +and no mistake! Well, you can get that through me, too; give me +something in advance, and I shall manage it for you all right at a +bargain." + +"Why do you go on at me with your 'after death,'" I cried angrily. "I +want a bit of earth in Palestine, I want to dig it, and sow it, and +plant it...." + +"Ha? What? Sow it and plant it?! That is ... that is ... you only mean +... may all bad dreams!..." and stammering thus, he scraped all the +scattered earth, little by little, into his bag, gradually got nearer +the door, and--was gone! + +It was not long before the town was seething and bubbling like a kettle +on the boil, everyone was upset as though by some misfortune, angry with +me, and still more with himself: "How could we be so mistaken? He +doesn't want to buy Palestinian earth at all, he doesn't care what +happens to him when he's dead, he laughs--he only wants to buy earth +_in_ Palestine, and set up villages there." + +"Eh-eh-eh! He remains one of _them_! He is what he is--a skeptic!" so +they said in all the streets, all the householders in the town, the +women in the market-place, at the bath, they went about abstracted, and +as furious as though I had insulted them, made fools of them, taken them +in, and all of a sudden they became cold and distant to me. The pious +Jews were seen no more at my house. I received packages from Palestine +one after the other. One had a black seal, on which was scratched a +black ram's horn, and inside, in large characters, was a ban from the +Brisk Rebbetzin, because of my wishing to make all the Jews unhappy. +Other packets were from different Palestinian beggars, who tried to +compel me, with fair words and foul, to send them money for their +travelling expenses and for the samples of earth they enclosed. My +fellow-townspeople also got packages from "over there," warning them +against me--I was a dangerous man, a missionary, and it was a Mitzveh to +be revenged on me. There was an uproar, and no wonder! A letter from +Palestine, written in Rashi, with large seals! In short I was to be put +to shame and confusion. Everyone avoided me, nobody came near me. When +people were obliged to come to me in money matters or to beg an alms, +they entered with deference, and spoke respectfully, in a gentle voice, +as to "one of them," took the alms or the money, and were out of the +door, behind which they abused me, as usual. + +Only Yüdel did not forsake me. Yüdel, the "living orphan," was +bewildered and perplexed. He had plenty of work, flew from one house to +the other, listening, begging, and talebearing, answering and asking +questions; but he could not settle the matter in his own mind: now he +looked at me angrily, and again with pity. He seemed to wish not to meet +me, and yet he sought occasion to do so, and would look earnestly into +my face. + +The excitement of my neighbors and their behavior to me interested me +very little; but I wanted very much to know the reason why I had +suddenly become abhorrent to them? I could by no means understand it. + +Once there came a wild, dark night. The sky was covered with black +clouds, there was a drenching rain and hail and a stormy wind, it was +pitch dark, and it lightened and thundered, as though the world were +turning upside down. The great thunder claps and the hail broke a good +many people's windows, the wind tore at the roofs, and everyone hid +inside his house, or wherever he found a corner. In that dreadful dark +night my door opened, and in came--Yüdel, the "living orphan"; he looked +as though someone were pushing him from behind, driving him along. He +was as white as the wall, cowering, beaten about, helpless as a leaf. +He came in, and stood by the door, holding his hat; he couldn't decide, +did not know if he should take it off, or not. I had never seen him so +miserable, so despairing, all the time I had known him. I asked him to +sit down, and he seemed a little quieted. I saw that he was soaking wet, +and shivering with cold, and I gave him hot tea, one glass after the +other. He sipped it with great enjoyment. And the sight of him sitting +there sipping and warming himself would have been very comic, only it +was so very sad. The tears came into my eyes. Yüdel began to brighten +up, and was soon Yüdel, his old self, again. I asked him how it was he +had come to me in such a state of gloom and bewilderment? He told me the +thunder and the hail had broken all the window-panes in his lodging, and +the wind had carried away the roof, there was nowhere he could go for +shelter; nobody would let him in at night; there was not a soul he could +turn to, there remained nothing for him but to lie down in the street +and die. + +"And so," he said, "having known you so long, I hoped you would take me +in, although you are 'one of them,' not at all pious, and, so they say, +full of evil intentions against Jews and Jewishness; but I know you are +a good man, and will have compassion on me." + +I forgave Yüdel his rudeness, because I knew him for an outspoken man, +that he was fond of talking, but never did any harm. Seeing him +depressed, I offered him a glass of wine, but he refused it. + +I understood the reason of his refusal, and started a conversation with +him. + +"Tell me, Yüdel heart, how is it I have fallen into such bad repute +among you that you will not even drink a drop of wine in my house? And +why do you say that I am 'one of them,' and not pious? A little while +ago you spoke differently of me." + +"Ett! It just slipped from my tongue, and the truth is you may be what +you please, you are a good man." + +"No, Yüdel, don't try to get out of it! Tell me openly (it doesn't +concern me, but I am curious to know), why this sudden revulsion of +feeling about me, this change of opinion? Tell me, Yüdel, I beg of you, +speak freely!" + +My gentle words and my friendliness gave Yüdel great encouragement. The +poor fellow, with whom not one of "them" has as yet spoken kindly! When +he saw that I meant it, he began to scratch his head; it seemed as if in +that minute he forgave me all my "heresies," and he looked at me kindly, +and as if with pity. Then, seeing that I awaited an answer, he gave a +twist to his earlock, and said gently and sincerely: + +"You wish me to tell you the truth? You insist upon it? You will not be +offended?" + +"You know that I never take offence at anything you say. Say anything +you like, Yüdel heart, only speak." + +"Then I will tell you: the town and everyone else is very angry with you +on account of your Palestinian earth: you want to do something new, buy +earth and plough it and sow--and where? in our land of Israel, in our +Holy Land of Israel!" + +"But why, Yüdel dear, when they thought I was buying Palestinian earth +to bestrew me after death, was I looked upon almost like a saint?" + +"Ê, that's another thing! That showed that you held Palestine holy, for +a land whose soil preserves one against being eaten of worms, like any +other honest Jew." + +"Well, I ask you, Yüdel, what does this mean? When they thought I was +buying sand for after my death, I was a holy man, a lover of Palestine, +and because I want to buy earth and till it, earth in your Holy Land, +our holy earth in the Holy Land, in which our best and greatest counted +it a privilege to live, I am a blot on Israel. Tell me, Yüdel, I ask +you: _Why_, because one wants to bestrew himself with Palestinian earth +after death, is one an orthodox Jew; and when one desires to give +oneself wholly to Palestine in life, should one be 'one of them'? Now I +ask you--all those Palestinian Jews who came to me with their bags of +sand, and were my very good friends, and full of anxiety to preserve my +body after death, why have they turned against me on hearing that I +wished for a bit of Palestinian earth while I live? Why are they all so +interested and such good brothers to the dead, and such bloodthirsty +enemies to the living? Why, because I wish to provide for my sad +existence, have they noised abroad that I am a missionary, and made up +tales against me? Why? I ask you, why, Yüdel, why?" + +"You ask me? How should I know? I only know that ever since Palestine +was Palestine, people have gone there to die--that I know; but all this +ploughing, sowing, and planting the earth, I never heard of in my life +before." + +"Yes, Yüdel, you are right, because it has been so for a long time, you +think so it has to be--that is the real answer to your questions. But +why not think back a little? Why should one only go to Palestine to die? +Is not Palestinian earth fit to _live_ on? On the contrary, it is some +of the very best soil, and when we till it and plant it, we fulfil the +precept to restore the Holy Land, and we also work for ourselves, toward +the realization of an honest and peaceable life. I won't discuss the +matter at length with you to-day. It seems that you have quite forgotten +what all the holy books say about Palestine, and what a precept it is to +till the soil. And another question, touching what you said about +Palestine being only there to go and die in. Tell me, those Palestinian +Jews who were so interested in my death, and brought earth from over +there to bestrew me--tell me, are they also only there to die? Did you +notice how broad and stout they were? Ha? And they, they too, when they +heard I wanted to live there, fell upon me like wild animals, filling +the world with their cries, and made up the most dreadful stories about +me. Well, what do you say, Yüdel? I ask you." + +"Do I know?" said Yüdel, with a wave of the hand. "Is my head there to +think out things like that? But tell me, I beg, what _is_ the good to +you of buying land in Palestine and getting into trouble all round?" + +"You ask, what is the good to me? I want to live, do you hear? I want to +_live_!" + +"If you can't live without Palestinian earth, why did you not get some +before? Did you never want to live till now?" + +"Oh, Yüdel, you are right there. I confess that till now I have lived in +a delusion, I thought I was living; but--what is the saying?--so long as +the thunder is silent...." + +"Some thunder has struck you!" interrupted Yüdel, looking +compassionately into my face. + +"I will put it briefly. You must know, Yüdel, that I have been in +business here for quite a long time. I worked faithfully, and my chief +was pleased with me. I was esteemed and looked up to, and it never +occurred to me that things would change; but bad men could not bear to +see me doing so well, and they worked hard against me, till one day the +business was taken over by my employer's son; and my enemies profited by +the opportunity, to cover me with calumnies from head to foot, spreading +reports about me which it makes one shudder to hear. This went on till +the chief began to look askance at me. At first I got pin-pricks, +malicious hints, then things got worse and worse, and at last they began +to push me about, and one day they turned me out of the house, and threw +me into a hedge. Presently, when I had reviewed the whole situation, I +saw that they could do what they pleased with me. I had no one to rely +on, my onetime good friends kept aloof from me, I had lost all worth in +their eyes; with some because, as is the way with people, they took no +trouble to inquire into the reason of my downfall, but, hearing all that +was said against me, concluded that I was in the wrong; others, again, +because they wished to be agreeable to my enemies; the rest, for reasons +without number. In short, reflecting on all this, I saw the game was +lost, and there was no saying what might not happen to me! Hitherto I +had borne my troubles patiently, with the courage that is natural to me; +but now I feel my courage giving way, and I am in fear lest I should +fall in my own eyes, in my own estimation, and get to believe that I am +worth nothing. And all this because I must needs resort to _them_, and +take all the insults they choose to fling at me, and every outcast has +me at his mercy. That is why I want to collect my remaining strength, +and buy a parcel of land in Palestine, and, God helping, I will become a +bit of a householder--do you understand?" + +"Why must it be just in Palestine?" + +"Because I may not, and I cannot, buy in anywhere else. I have tried to +find a place elsewhere, but they were afraid I was going to get the +upper hand, so down they came, and made a wreck of it. Over there I +shall be proprietor myself--that is firstly, and secondly, a great many +relations of mine are buried there, in the country where they lived and +died. And although you count me as 'one of them,' I tell you I think a +great deal of 'the merits of the fathers,' and that it is very pleasant +to me to think of living in the land that will remind me of such dear +forefathers. And although it will be hard at first, the recollection of +my ancestors and the thought of providing my children with a corner of +their own and honestly earned bread will give me strength, till I shall +work my way up to something. And I hope I _will_ get to something. +Remember, Yüdel, I believe and I hope! You will see, Yüdel--you know +that our brothers consider Palestinian earth a charm against being +eaten by worms, and you think that I laugh at it? No, I believe in it! +It is quite, quite true that my Palestinian earth will preserve me from +worms, only not after death, no, but alive--from such worms as devour +and gnaw at and poison the whole of life!" + +Yüdel scratched his nose, gave a rub to the cap on his head, and uttered +a deep sigh. + +"Yes, Yüdel, you sigh! Now do you know what I wanted to say to you?" + +"Ett!" and Yüdel made a gesture with his hand. "What you have to say to +me?--ett!" + +"Oi, that 'ett!' of yours! Yüdel, I know it! When you have nothing to +answer, and you ought to think, and think something out, you take refuge +in 'ett!' Just consider for once, Yüdel, I have a plan for you, too. +Remember what you were, and what has become of you. You have been +knocking about, driven hither and thither, since childhood. You haven't +a house, not a corner, you have become a beggar, a tramp, a nobody, +despised and avoided, with unpleasing habits, and living a dog's life. +You have very good qualities, a clear head, and acute intelligence. But +to what purpose do you put them? You waste your whole intelligence on +getting in at backdoors and coaxing a bit of bread out of the +maidservant, and the mistress is not to know. Can you not devise a +means, with that clever brain of yours, how to earn it for yourself? See +here, I am going to buy a bit of ground in Palestine, come with me, +Yüdel, and you shall work, and be a man like other men. You are what +they call a 'living orphan,' because you have many fathers; and don't +forget that you have _one_ Father who lives, and who is only waiting +for you to grow better. Well, how much longer are you going to live +among strangers? Till now you haven't thought, and the life suited you, +you have grown used to blows and contumely. But now that--that--none +will let you in, your eyes must have been opened to see your condition, +and you must have begun to wish to be different. Only begin to wish! You +see, I have enough to eat, and yet my position has become hateful to me, +because I have lost my value, and am in danger of losing my humanity. +But you are hungry, and one of these days you will die of starvation out +in the street. Yüdel, do just think it over, for if I am right, you will +get to be like other people. Your Father will see that you have turned +into a man, he will be reconciled with your mother, and you will be 'a +father's child,' as you were before. Brother Yüdel, think it over!" + +I talked to my Yüdel a long, long time. In the meanwhile, the night had +passed. My Yüdel gave a start, as though waking out of a deep slumber, +and went away full of thought. + +On opening the window, I was greeted by a friendly smile from the rising +morning star, as it peeped out between the clouds. + +And it began to dawn. + + + + +ISAAC LÖB PEREZ + + +Born, 1851, in Samoscz, Government of Lublin, Russian Poland; Jewish, +philosophical, and general literary education; practiced law in Samoscz, +a Hasidic town; clerk to the Jewish congregation in Warsaw and as such +collector of statistics on Jewish life; began to write at twenty-five; +contributor to Zedernbaum's Jüdisches Volksblatt; publisher and editor +of Die jüdische Bibliothek (4 vols.), in which he conducted the +scientific department, and wrote all the editorials and book reviews, of +Literatur and Leben, and of Yom-tov Blättlech; now (1912) co-editor of +Der Freind, Warsaw; Hebrew and Yiddish prose writer and poet; +allegorist; collected Hebrew works, 1899-1901; collected Yiddish works, +7 vols., Warsaw and New York, 1909-1912 (in course of publication). + + + + +A WOMAN'S WRATH + + +The small room is dingy as the poverty that clings to its walls. There +is a hook fastened to the crumbling ceiling, relic of a departed hanging +lamp. The old, peeling stove is girded about with a coarse sack, and +leans sideways toward its gloomy neighbor, the black, empty fireplace, +in which stands an inverted cooking pot with a chipped rim. Beside it +lies a broken spoon, which met its fate in unequal contest with the +scrapings of cold, stale porridge. + +The room is choked with furniture; there is a four-post bed with torn +curtains. The pillows visible through their holes have no covers. + +There is a cradle, with the large, yellow head of a sleeping child; a +chest with metal fittings and an open padlock--nothing very precious +left in there, evidently; further, a table and three chairs (originally +painted red), a cupboard, now somewhat damaged. Add to these a pail of +clean water and one of dirty water, an oven rake with a shovel, and you +will understand that a pin could hardly drop onto the floor. + +And yet the room contains _him_ and _her_ beside. + +_She_, a middle-aged Jewess, sits on the chest that fills the space +between the bed and the cradle. + +To her right is the one grimy little window, to her left, the table. She +is knitting a sock, rocking the cradle with her foot, and listens to +_him_ reading the Talmud at the table, with a tearful, Wallachian, +singing intonation, and swaying to and fro with a series of nervous +jerks. Some of the words he swallows, others he draws out; now he snaps +at a word, and now he skips it; some he accentuates and dwells on +lovingly, others he rattles out with indifference, like dried peas out +of a bag. And never quiet for a moment. First he draws from his pocket a +once red and whole handkerchief, and wipes his nose and brow, then he +lets it fall into his lap, and begins twisting his earlocks or pulling +at his thin, pointed, faintly grizzled beard. Again, he lays a +pulled-out hair from the same between the leaves of his book, and slaps +his knees. His fingers coming into contact with the handkerchief, they +seize it, and throw a corner in between his teeth; he bites it, lays one +foot across the other, and continually shuffles with both feet. + +All the while his pale forehead wrinkles, now in a perpendicular, now in +a horizontal, direction, when the long eyebrows are nearly lost below +the folds of skin. At times, apparently, he has a sting in the chest, +for he beats his left side as though he were saying the Al-Chets. +Suddenly he leans his head to the left, presses a finger against his +left nostril, and emits an artificial sneeze, leans his head to the +right, and the proceeding is repeated. In between he takes a pinch of +snuff, pulls himself together, his voice rings louder, the chair creaks, +the table wobbles. + +The child does not wake; the sounds are too familiar to disturb it. + +And she, the wife, shrivelled and shrunk before her time, sits and +drinks in delight. She never takes her eye off her husband, her ear +lets no inflection of his voice escape. Now and then, it is true, she +sighs. Were he as fit for _this_ world as he is for the _other_ world, +she would have a good time of it here, too--here, too-- + +"Ma!" she consoles herself, "who talks of honor? Not every one is worthy +of both tables!" + +She listens. Her shrivelled face alters from minute to minute; she is +nervous, too. A moment ago it was eloquent of delight. Now she remembers +it is Thursday, there isn't a dreier to spend in preparation for +Sabbath. The light in her face goes out by degrees, the smile fades, +then she takes a look through the grimy window, glances at the sun. It +must be getting late, and there isn't a spoonful of hot water in the +house. The needles pause in her hand, a shadow has overspread her face. +She looks at the child, it is sleeping less quietly, and will soon wake. +The child is poorly, and there is not a drop of milk for it. The shadow +on her face deepens into gloom, the needles tremble and move +convulsively. + +And when she remembers that it is near Passover, that her ear-rings and +the festal candlesticks are at the pawnshop, the chest empty, the lamp +sold, then the needles perform murderous antics in her fingers. The +gloom on her brow is that of a gathering thunder-storm, lightnings play +in her small, grey, sunken eyes. + +He sits and "learns," unconscious of the charged atmosphere; does not +see her let the sock fall and begin wringing her finger-joints; does not +see that her forehead is puckered with misery, one eye closed, and the +other fixed on him, her learned husband, with a look fit to send a +chill through his every limb; does not see her dry lips tremble and her +jaw quiver. She controls herself with all her might, but the storm is +gathering fury within her. The least thing, and it will explode. + +That least thing has happened. + +He was just translating a Talmudic phrase with quiet delight, "And +thence we derive that--" He was going on with "three,--" but the word +"derive" was enough, it was the lighted spark, and her heart was the +gunpowder. It was ablaze in an instant. Her determination gave way, the +unlucky word opened the flood-gates, and the waters poured through, +carrying all before them. + +"Derived, you say, derived? O, derived may you be, Lord of the World," +she exclaimed, hoarse with anger, "derived may you be! Yes! You!" she +hissed like a snake. "Passover coming--Thursday--and the child ill--and +not a drop of milk is there. Ha?" + +Her breath gives out, her sunken breast heaves, her eyes flash. + +He sits like one turned to stone. Then, pale and breathless, too, from +fright, he gets up and edges toward the door. + +At the door he turns and faces her, and sees that hand and tongue are +equally helpless from passion; his eyes grow smaller; he catches a bit +of handkerchief between his teeth, retreats a little further, takes a +deeper breath, and mutters: + +"Listen, woman, do you know what Bittul-Torah means? And not letting a +husband study in peace, to be always worrying about livelihood, ha? And +who feeds the little birds, tell me? Always this want of faith in God, +this giving way to temptation, and taking thought for _this_ world ... +foolish, ill-natured woman! Not to let a husband study! If you don't +take care, you will go to Gehenna." + +Receiving no answer, he grows bolder. Her face gets paler and paler, she +trembles more and more violently, and the paler she becomes, and the +more she trembles, the steadier his voice, as he goes on: + +"Gehenna! Fire! Hanging by the tongue! Four death penalties inflicted by +the court!" + +She is silent, her face is white as chalk. + +He feels that he is doing wrong, that he has no call to be cruel, that +he is taking a mean advantage, but he has risen, as it were, to the top, +and is boiling over. He cannot help himself. + +"Do you know," he threatens her, "what Skiloh means? It means stoning, +to throw into a ditch and cover up with stones! Srefoh--burning, that +is, pouring a spoonful of boiling lead into the inside! +Hereg--beheading, that means they cut off your head with a sword! Like +this" (and he passes a hand across his neck). "Then Cheneck--strangling! +Do you hear? To strangle! Do you understand? And all four for making +light of the Torah! For Bittul-Torah!" + +His heart is already sore for his victim, but he is feeling his power +over her for the first time, and it has gone to his head. Silly woman! +He had never known how easy it was to frighten her. + +"That comes of making light of the Torah!" he shouts, and breaks off. +After all, she might come to her senses at any moment, and take up the +broom! He springs back to the table, closes the Gemoreh, and hurries out +of the room. + +"I am going to the house-of-study!" he calls out over his shoulder in a +milder tone, and shuts the door after him. + +The loud voice and the noise of the closing door have waked the sick +child. The heavy-lidded eyes open, the waxen face puckers, and there is +a peevish wail. But she, beside herself, stands rooted to the spot, and +does not hear. + +"Ha!" comes hoarsely at last out of her narrow chest. "So that's it, is +it? Neither this world nor the other. Hanging, he says, stoning, +burning, beheading, strangling, hanging by the tongue, boiling lead +poured into the inside, he says--for making light of the Torah--Hanging, +ha, ha, ha!" (in desperation). "Yes, I'll hang, but _here, here!_ And +soon! What is there to wait for?" + +The child begins to cry louder; still she does not hear. + +"A rope! a rope!" she screams, and stares wildly into every corner. + +"Where is there a rope? I wish he mayn't find a bone of me left! Let me +be rid of _one_ Gehenna at any rate! Let him try it, let him be a mother +for once, see how he likes it! I've had enough of it! Let it be an +atonement! An end, an end! A rope, a rope!!" + +Her last exclamation is like a cry for help from out of a +conflagration. + +She remembers that they _have_ a rope somewhere. Yes, under the +stove--the stove was to have been tied round against the winter. The +rope must be there still. + +She runs and finds the rope, the treasure, looks up at the ceiling--the +hook that held the lamp--she need only climb onto the table. + +She climbs-- + +But she sees from the table that the startled child, weak as it is, has +sat up in the cradle, and is reaching over the side--it is trying to get +out-- + +"Mame, M-mame," it sobs feebly. + +A fresh paroxysm of anger seizes her. + +She flings away the rope, jumps off the table, runs to the child, and +forces its head back into the pillow, exclaiming: + +"Bother the child! It won't even let me hang myself! I can't even hang +myself in peace! It wants to suck. What is the good? You will suck +nothing but poison, poison, out of me, I tell you!" + +"There, then, greedy!" she cries in the same breath, and stuffs her +dried-up breast into his mouth. + +"There, then, suck away--bite!" + + + + +THE TREASURE + + +To sleep, in summer time, in a room four yards square, together with a +wife and eight children, is anything but a pleasure, even on a Friday +night--and Shmerel the woodcutter rises from his bed, though only half +through with the night, hot and gasping, hastily pours some water over +his finger-tips, flings on his dressing-gown, and escapes barefoot from +the parched Gehenna of his dwelling. He steps into the street--all +quiet, all the shutters closed, and over the sleeping town is a distant, +serene, and starry sky. He feels as if he were all alone with God, +blessed is He, and he says, looking up at the sky, "Now, Lord of the +Universe, now is the time to hear me and to bless me with a treasure out +of Thy treasure-house!" + +As he says this, he sees something like a little flame coming along out +of the town, and he knows, That is it! He is about to pursue it, when he +remembers it is Sabbath, when one mustn't turn. So he goes after it +walking. And as he walks slowly along, the little flame begins to move +slowly, too, so that the distance between them does not increase, though +it does not shorten, either. He walks on. Now and then an inward voice +calls to him: "Shmerel, don't be a fool! Take off the dressing-gown. +Give a jump and throw it over the flame!" But he knows it is the Evil +Inclination speaking. He throws off the dressing-gown onto his arm, but +to spite the Evil Inclination he takes still smaller steps, and +rejoices to see that, as soon as he takes these smaller steps, the +little flame moves more slowly, too. + +Thus he follows the flame, and follows it, till he gradually finds +himself outside the town. The road twists and turns across fields and +meadows, and the distance between him and the flame grows no longer, no +shorter. Were he to throw the dressing-gown, it would not reach the +flame. Meantime the thought revolves in his mind: Were he indeed to +become possessed of the treasure, he need no longer be a woodcutter, +now, in his later years; he has no longer the strength for the work he +had once. He would rent a seat for his wife in the women's Shool, so +that her Sabbaths and holidays should not be spoiled by their not +allowing her to sit here or to sit there. On New Year's Day and the Day +of Atonement it is all she can do to stand through the service. Her many +children have exhausted her! And he would order her a new dress, and buy +her a few strings of pearls. The children should be sent to better +Chedorim, and he would cast about for a match for his eldest girl. As it +is, the poor child carries her mother's fruit baskets, and never has +time so much as to comb her hair thoroughly, and she has long, long +plaits, and eyes like a deer. + +"It would be a meritorious act to pounce upon the treasure!" + +The Evil Inclination again, he thinks. If it is not to be, well, then it +isn't! If it were in the week, he would soon know what to do! Or if his +Yainkel were there, he would have had something to say. Children +nowadays! Who knows what they don't do on Sabbath, as it is! And the +younger one is no better: he makes fun of the teacher in Cheder. When +the teacher is about to administer a blow, they pull his beard. And +who's going to find time to see after them--chopping and sawing a whole +day through. + +He sighs and walks on and on, now and then glancing up into the sky: +"Lord of the Universe, of whom are you making trial? Shmerel Woodcutter? +If you do mean to give me the treasure, _give_ it me!" It seems to him +that the flame proceeds more slowly, but at this very moment he hears a +dog bark, and it has a bark he knows--that is the dog in Vissóke. +Vissóke is the first village you come to on leaving the town, and he +sees white patches twinkle in the dewy morning atmosphere, those are the +Vissóke peasant cottages. Then it occurs to him that he has gone a +Sabbath day's journey, and he stops short. + +"Yes, I have gone a Sabbath day's journey," he thinks, and says, +speaking into the air: "You won't lead me astray! It is _not_ a +God-send! God does not make sport of us--it is the work of a demon." And +he feels a little angry with the thing, and turns and hurries toward the +town, thinking: "I won't say anything about it at home, because, first, +they won't believe me, and if they do, they'll laugh at me. And what +have I done to be proud of? The Creator knows how it was, and that is +enough for me. Besides, _she_ might be angry, who can tell? The children +are certainly naked and barefoot, poor little things! Why should they be +made to transgress the command to honor one's father?" + +No, he won't breathe a word. He won't even ever remind the Almighty of +it. If he really has been good, the Almighty will remember without being +told. + +And suddenly he is conscious of a strange, lightsome, inward calm, and +there is a delicious sensation in his limbs. Money is, after all, dross, +riches may even lead a man from the right way, and he feels inclined to +thank God for not having brought him into temptation by granting him his +wish. He would like, if only--to sing a song! "Our Father, our King" is +one he remembers from his early years, but he feels ashamed before +himself, and breaks off. He tries to recollect one of the cantor's +melodies, a Sinai tune--when suddenly he sees that the identical little +flame which he left behind him is once more preceding him, and moving +slowly townward, townward, and the distance between them neither +increases nor diminishes, as though the flame were taking a walk, and he +were taking a walk, just taking a little walk in honor of Sabbath. He is +glad in his heart and watches it. The sky pales, the stars begin to go +out, the east flushes, a narrow pink stream flows lengthwise over his +head, and still the flame flickers onward into the town, enters his own +street. There is his house. The door, he sees, is open. Apparently he +forgot to shut it. And, lo and behold! the flame goes in, the flame goes +in at his own house door! He follows, and sees it disappear beneath the +bed. All are asleep. He goes softly up to the bed, stoops down, and sees +the flame spinning round underneath it, like a top, always in the same +place; takes his dressing-gown, and throws it down under the bed, and +covers up the flame. No one hears him, and now a golden morning beam +steals in through the chink in the shutter. + +He sits down on the bed, and makes a vow not to say a word to anyone +till Sabbath is over--not half a word, lest it cause desecration of the +Sabbath. _She_ could never hold her tongue, and the children certainly +not; they would at once want to count the treasure, to know how much +there was, and very soon the secret would be out of the house and into +the Shool, the house-of-study, and all the streets, and people would +talk about his treasure, about luck, and people would not say their +prayers, or wash their hands, or say grace, as they should, and he would +have led his household and half the town into sin. No, not a whisper! +And he stretches himself out on the bed, and pretends to be asleep. + +And this was his reward: When, after concluding the Sabbath, he stooped +down and lifted up the dressing-gown under the bed, there lay a sack +with a million of gulden, an almost endless number--the bed was a large +one--and he became one of the richest men in the place. + +And he lived happily all the years of his life. + +Only, his wife was continually bringing up against him: "Lord of the +World, how could a man have such a heart of stone, as to sit a whole +summer day and not say a word, not a word, not to his own wife, not one +single word! And there was I" (she remembers) "crying over my prayer as +I said God of Abraham--and crying so--for there wasn't a dreier left in +the house." + +Then he consoles her, and says with a smile: + +"Who knows? Perhaps it was all thanks to your 'God of Abraham' that it +went off so well." + + + + +IT IS WELL + + +You ask how it is that I remained a Jew? Whose merit it is? + +Not through my own merits nor those of my ancestors. I was a +six-year-old Cheder boy, my father a countryman outside Wilna, a +householder in a small way. + +No, I remained a Jew thanks to the Schpol Grandfather. + +How do I come to mention the Schpol Grandfather? What has the Schpol +Grandfather to do with it, you ask? + +The Schpol Grandfather was no Schpol Grandfather then. He was a young +man, suffering exile from home and kindred, wandering with a troop of +mendicants from congregation to congregation, from friendly inn to +friendly inn, in all respects one of them. What difference his heart may +have shown, who knows? And after these journeyman years, the time of +revelation had not come even yet. He presented himself to the Rabbinical +Board in Wilna, took out a certificate, and became a Shochet in a +village. He roamed no more, but remained in the neighborhood of Wilna. +The Misnagdim, however, have a wonderful _flair_, and they suspected +something, began to worry and calumniate him, and finally they denounced +him to the Rabbinical authorities as a transgressor of the Law, of the +whole Law! What Misnagdim are capable of, to be sure! + +As I said, I was then six years old. He used to come to us to slaughter +small cattle, or just to spend the night, and I was very fond of him. +Whom else, except my father and mother, should I have loved? I had a +teacher, a passionate man, a destroyer of souls, and this other was a +kind and genial creature, who made you feel happy if he only looked at +you. The calumnies did their work, and they took away his certificate. +My teacher must have had a hand in it, because he heard of it before +anyone, and the next time the Shochet came, he exclaimed "Apostate!" +took him by the scruff of his coat, and bundled him out of the house. It +cut me to the heart like a knife, only I was frightened to death of the +teacher, and never stirred. But a little later, when the teacher was +looking away, I escaped and began to run after the Shochet across the +road, which, not far from the house, lost itself in a wood that +stretched all the way to Wilna. What exactly I proposed to do to help +him, I don't know, but something drove me after the poor Shochet. I +wanted to say good-by to him, to have one more look into his nice, +kindly eyes. + +But I ran and ran, and hurt my feet against the stones in the road, and +saw no one. I went to the right, down into the wood, thinking I would +rest a little on the soft earth of the wood. I was about to sit down, +when I heard a voice (it sounded like his voice) farther on in the wood, +half speaking and half singing. I went softly towards the voice, and saw +him some way off, where he stood swaying to and fro under a tree. I went +up to him--he was reciting the Song of Songs. I look closer and see that +the tree under which he stands is different from the other trees. The +others are still bare of leaves, and this one is green and in full leaf, +it shines like the sun, and stretches its flowery branches over the +Shochet's head like a tent. And a quantity of birds hop among the twigs +and join in singing the Song of Songs. I am so astonished that I stand +there with open mouth and eyes, rooted like the trees. + +He ends his chant, the tree is extinguished, the little birds are +silent, and he turns to me, and says affectionately: + +"Listen, Yüdele,"--Yüdel is my name--"I have a request to make of you." + +"Really?" I answer joyfully, and I suppose he wishes me to bring him out +some food, and I am ready to run and bring him our whole Sabbath dinner, +when he says to me: + +"Listen, keep what you saw to yourself." + +This sobers me, and I promise seriously and faithfully to hold my +tongue. + +"Listen again. You are going far away, very far away, and the road is a +long road." + +I wonder, however should I come to travel so far? And he goes on to say: + +"They will knock the Rebbe's Torah out of your head, and you will forget +Father and Mother, but see you keep to your name! You are called +Yüdel--remain a Jew!" + +I am frightened, but cry out from the bottom of my heart: + +"Surely! As surely may I live!" + +Then, because my own idea clung to me, I added: + +"Don't you want something to eat?" + +And before I finished speaking, he had vanished. + +The second week after they fell upon us and led me away as a Cantonist, +to be brought up among the Gentiles and turned into a soldier. + + * * * * * + +Time passed, and I forgot everything, as he had foretold. They knocked +it all out of my head. + +I served far away, deep in Russia, among snows and terrific frosts, and +never set eyes on a Jew. There may have been hidden Jews about, but I +knew nothing of them, I knew nothing of Sabbath and festival, nothing of +any fast. I forgot everything. + +But I held fast to my name! + +I did not change my coin. + +The more I forgot, the more I was inclined to be quit of my torments and +trials--to make an end of them by agreeing to a Christian name, but +whenever the bad thought came into my head, he appeared before me, the +same Shochet, and I heard his voice say to me, "Keep your name, remain a +Jew!" + +And I knew for certain that it was no empty dream, because every time I +saw him _older_ and _older_, his beard and earlocks greyer, his face +paler. Only his eyes remained the same kind eyes, and his voice, which +sounded like a violin, never altered. + +Once they flogged me, and he stood by and wiped the cold sweat off my +forehead, and stroked my face, and said softly: "Don't cry out! We ought +to suffer! Remain a Jew," and I bore it without a cry, without a moan, +as though they had been flogging _not_-me. + + * * * * * + +Once, during the last year, I had to go as a sentry to a public house +behind the town. It was evening, and there was a snow-storm. The wind +lifted patches of snow, and ground them to needles, rubbed them to dust, +and this snow-dust and these snow-needles were whirled through the air, +flew into one's face and pricked--you couldn't keep an eye open, you +couldn't draw your breath! Suddenly I saw some people walking past me, +not far away, and one of them said in Yiddish, "This is the first night +of Passover." Whether it was a voice from God, or whether some people +really passed me, to this day I don't know, but the words fell upon my +heart like lead, and I had hardly reached the tavern and begun to walk +up and down, when a longing came over me, a sort of heartache, that is +not to be described. I wanted to recite the Haggadah, and not a word of +it could I recall! Not even the Four Questions I used to ask my father. +I felt it all lay somewhere deep down in my heart. I used to know so +much of it, when I was only six years old. I felt, if only I could have +recalled one simple word, the rest would have followed and risen out of +my memory one after the other, like sleepy birds from beneath the snow. +But that one first word is just what I cannot remember! Lord of the +Universe, I cried fervently, one word, only one word! As it seems, I +made my prayer in a happy hour, for "we were slaves" came into my head +just as if it had been thrown down from Heaven. I was overjoyed! I was +so full of joy that I felt it brimming over. And then the rest all came +back to me, and as I paced up and down on my watch, with my musket on my +shoulder, I recited and sang the Haggadah to the snowy world around. I +drew it out of me, word after word, like a chain of golden links, like +a string of pearls. O, but you won't understand, you couldn't +understand, unless you had been taken away there, too! + +The wind, meanwhile, had fallen, the snow-storm had come to an end, and +there appeared a clear, twinkling sky, and a shining world of diamonds. +It was silent all round, and ever so wide, and ever so white, with a +sweet, peaceful, endless whiteness. And over this calm, wide, whiteness, +there suddenly appeared something still whiter, and lighter, and +brighter, wrapped in a robe and a prayer-scarf, the prayer-scarf over +its shoulders, and over the prayer-scarf, in front, a silvery white +beard; and above the beard, two shining eyes, and above them, a +sparkling crown, a cap with gold and silver ornaments. And it came +nearer and nearer, and went past me, but as it passed me it said: + +"It is well!" + +It sounded like a violin, and then the figure vanished. + +But it was the same eyes, the same voice. + +I took Schpol on my way home, and went to see the Old Man, for the Rebbe +of Schpol was called by the people Der Alter, the "Schpol Grandfather." + +And I recognized him again, and he recognized me! + + + + +WHENCE A PROVERB + + +"Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim," is a Jewish proverb, and +people ought to know whence it comes. + +In the days of the famous scholar, Reb Chayyim Vital, there lived in +Safed, in Palestine, a young man who (not of us be it spoken!) had not +been married a year before he became a widower. God's ways are not to be +understood. Such things will happen. But the young man was of the +opinion that the world, in as far as he was concerned, had come to an +end; that, as there is one sun in heaven, so his wife had been the one +woman in the world. So he went and sold all the merchandise in his +little shop and all the furniture of his room, and gave the proceeds to +the head of the Safed Academy, the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, on condition that +he should be taken into the Yeshiveh and fed with the other scholars, +and that he should have a room to himself, where he might sit and learn +Torah. + +The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh took the money for the Academy, and they +partitioned off a little room for the young man with some boards, in a +corner of the attic of the house-of-study. They carried in a sack with +straw, and vessels for washing, and the young man sat himself down to +the Talmud. Except on Sabbaths and holidays, when the householders +invited him to dinner, he never set eyes on a living creature. Food +sufficient for the day, and a clean shirt in honor of Sabbaths and +festivals, were carried up to him by the beadle, and whenever he heard +steps on the stair, he used to turn away, and stand with his face to the +wall, till whoever it was had gone out again and shut the door. + +In a word, he became a Porush, for he lived separate from the world. + +At first people thought he wouldn't persevere long, because he was a +lively youth by nature; but as week after week went by, and the Porush +sat and studied, and the tearful voice in which he intoned the Gemoreh +was heard in the street half through the night, or else he was seen at +the attic window, his pale face raised towards the sky, then they began +to believe in him, and they hoped he might in time become a mighty man +in Israel, and perhaps even a wonderworker. They said so to the Rebbe, +Chayyim Vital, but he listened, shook his head, and replied, "God grant +it may last." + +Meantime a little "wonder" really happened. The beadle's little +daughter, who used sometimes to carry up the Porush's food for her +father, took it into her head that she must have one look at the Porush. +What does she? Takes off her shoes and stockings, and carries the food +to him barefoot, so noiselessly that she heard her own heart beat. But +the beating of her heart frightened her so much that she fell down half +the stairs, and was laid up for more than a month in consequence. In her +fever she told the whole story, and people began to believe in the +Porush more firmly than ever and to wait with increasing impatience till +he should become famous. + +They described the occurrence to Reb Chayyim Vital, and again he shook +his head, and even sighed, and answered, "God grant he may be +victorious!" And when they pressed him for an explanation of these +words, Reb Chayyim answered, that as the Porush had left the world, not +so much for the sake of Heaven as on account of his grief for his wife, +it was to be feared that he would be sorely beset and tempted by the +"Other Side," and God grant he might not stumble and fall. + + * * * * * + +And Reb Chayyim Vital never spoke without good reason! + +One day the Porush was sitting deep in a book, when he heard something +tapping at the door, and fear came over him. But as the tapping went on, +he rose, forgetting to close his book, went and opened the door--and in +walks a turkey. He lets it in, for it occurs to him that it would be +nice to have a living thing in the room. The turkey walks past him, and +goes and settles down quietly in a corner. And the Porush wonders what +this may mean, and sits down again to his book. Sitting there, he +remembers that it is going on for Purim. Has someone sent him a turkey +out of regard for his study of the Torah? What shall he do with the +turkey? Should anyone, he reflects, ask him to dinner, supposing it were +to be a poor man, he would send him the turkey on the eve of Purim, and +then he would satisfy himself with it also. He has not once tasted +fowl-meat since he lost his wife. Thinking thus, he smacked his lips, +and his mouth watered. He threw a glance at the turkey, and saw it +looking at him in a friendly way, as though it had quite understood his +intention, and was very glad to think it should have the honor of being +eaten by a Porush. He could not restrain himself, but was continually +lifting his eyes from his book to look at the turkey, till at last he +began to fancy the turkey was smiling at him. This startled him a +little, but all the same it made him happy to be smiled at by a living +creature. + +The same thing happened at Minchah and Maariv. In the middle of the +Eighteen Benedictions, he could not for the life of him help looking +round every minute at the turkey, who continued to smile and smile. +Suddenly it seemed to him, he knew that smile well--the Almighty, who +had taken back his wife, had now sent him her smile to comfort him in +his loneliness, and he began to love the turkey. He thought how much +better it would be, if a _rich_ man were to invite him at Purim, so that +the turkey might live. + +And he thought it in a propitious moment, as we shall presently see, but +meantime they brought him, as usual, a platter of groats with a piece of +bread, and he washed his hands, and prepared to eat. + +No sooner, however, had he taken the bread into his hand, and was about +to bite into it, than the turkey moved out of its corner, and began +peck, peck, peck, towards the bread, by way of asking for some, and as +though to say it was hungry, too, and came and stood before him near the +table. The Porush thought, "He'd better have some, I don't want to be +unkind to him, to tease him," and he took the bread and the platter of +porridge, and set it down on the floor before the turkey, who pecked and +supped away to its heart's content. + +Next day the Porush went over to the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, and told him how +he had come to have a fellow-lodger; he used always to leave some +porridge over, and to-day he didn't seem to have had enough. The Rosh +ha-Yeshiveh saw a hungry face before him. He said he would tell this to +the Rebbe, Chayyim Vital, so that he might pray, and the evil spirit, if +such indeed it was, might depart. Meantime he would give orders for two +pieces of bread and two plates of porridge to be taken up to the attic, +so that there should be enough for both, the Porush and the turkey. Reb +Chayyim Vital, however, to whom the story was told in the name of the +Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, shook his head, and declared with a deep sigh that +this was only the beginning! + +Meanwhile the Porush received a double portion and was satisfied, and +the turkey was satisfied, too. The turkey even grew fat. And in a couple +of weeks or so the Porush had become so much attached to the turkey that +he prayed every day to be invited for Purim by a _rich_ man, so that he +might not be tempted to destroy it. + +And, as we intimated, _that_ temptation, anyhow, was spared him, for he +was invited to dinner by one of the principal householders in the place, +and there was not only turkey, but every kind of tasty dish, and wine +fit for a king. And the best Purim-players came to entertain the rich +man, his family, and the guests who had come to him after their feast at +home. And our Porush gave himself up to enjoyment, and ate and drank. +Perhaps he even drank rather more than he ate, for the wine was sweet +and grateful to the taste, and the warmth of it made its way into every +limb. + +Then suddenly a change came over him. + +The Ahasuerus-Esther play had begun. Vashti will not do the king's +pleasure and come in to the banquet as God made her. Esther soon finds +favor in her stead, she is given over to Hegai, the keeper of the women, +to be purified, six months with oil of myrrh and six months with other +sweet perfumes. And our Porush grew hot all over, and it was dark before +his eyes; then red streaks flew across his field of vision, like tongues +of fire, and he was overcome by a strange, wild longing to be back at +home, in the attic of the house-of-study--a longing for his own little +room, his quiet corner, a longing for the turkey, and he couldn't bear +it, and even before they had said grace he jumped up and ran away home. + +He enters his room, looks into the corner habitually occupied by the +turkey, and stands amazed--the turkey has turned into a woman, a most +beautiful woman, such as the world never saw, and he begins to tremble +all over. And she comes up to him, and takes him around the neck with +her warm, white, naked arms, and the Porush trembles more and more, and +begs, "Not here, not here! It is a holy place, there are holy books +lying about." Then she whispers into his ear that she is the Queen of +Sheba, that she lives not far from the house-of-study, by the river, +among the tall reeds, in a palace of crystal, given her by King Solomon. +And she draws him along, she wants him to go with her to her palace. + +And he hesitates and resists--and he goes. + +Next day, there was no turkey, and no Porush, either! + +They went to Reb Chayyim Vital, who told them to look for him along the +bank of the river, and they found him in a swamp among the tall reeds, +more dead than alive. + +They rescued him and brought him round, but from that day he took to +drink. + +And Reb Chayyim Vital said, it all came from his great longing for the +Queen of Sheba, that when he drank, he saw her; and they were to let him +drink, only not at Purim, because at that time she would have great +power over him. + +Hence the proverb, "Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim." + + + + +MORDECAI SPEKTOR + + +Born, 1859, in Uman, Government of Kieff, Little Russia; education +Hasidic; entered business in 1878; wrote first sketch, A Roman ohn +Liebe, in 1882; contributor to Zedernbaum's Jüdisches Volksblatt, +1884-1887; founded, in 1888, and edited Der Hausfreund, at Warsaw; +editor of Warsaw daily papers, Unser Leben, and (at present, 1912) Dos +neie Leben; writer of novels, historical romances, and sketches in +Yiddish; contributor to numerous periodicals; compiled a volume of more +than two thousand Jewish proverbs. + + + + +AN ORIGINAL STRIKE + + +I was invited to a wedding. + +Not a wedding at which ladies wore low dress, and scattered powder as +they walked, and the men were in frock-coats and white gloves, and had +waxed moustaches. + +Not a wedding where you ate of dishes with outlandish names, according +to a printed card, and drank wine dating, according to the label, from +the reign of King Sobieski, out of bottles dingy with the dust of +yesterday. + +No, but a Jewish wedding, where the men, women, and girls wore the +Sabbath and holiday garments in which they went to Shool; a wedding +where you whet your appetite with sweet-cakes and apple-tart, and sit +down to Sabbath fish, with fresh rolls, golden soup, stuffed fowl, and +roast duck, and the wine is in large, clear, white bottles; a wedding +with a calling to the Reading of the Torah of the bridegroom, a party on +the Sabbath preceding the wedding, a good-night-play performed by the +musicians, and a bridegroom's-dinner in his native town, with a table +spread for the poor. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik Berkover had made a feast for the poor at the wedding +of each of his children, and now, on the occasion of the marriage of his +youngest daughter, he had invited all the poor of the little town +Lipovietz to his village home, where he had spent all his life. + +It is the day of the ceremony under the canopy, two o'clock in the +afternoon, and the poor, sent for early in the morning by a messenger, +with the three great wagons, are not there. Lipovietz is not more than +five versts away--what can have happened? The parents of the bridal +couple and the assembled guests wait to proceed with the ceremony. + +At last the messenger comes riding on a horse unharnessed from his +vehicle, but no poor. + +"Why have you come back alone?" demands Reb Yitzchok-Aizik. + +"They won't come!" replies the messenger. + +"What do you mean by 'they won't come'?" asked everyone in surprise. + +"They say that unless they are given a kerbel apiece, they won't come to +the wedding." + +All laugh, and the messenger goes on: + +"There was a wedding with a dinner to the poor in Lipovietz to-day, too, +and they have eaten and drunk all they can, and now they've gone on +strike, and declare that unless they are promised a kerbel a head, they +won't move from the spot. The strike leaders are the Crooked Man with +two crutches, Mekabbel the Long, Feitel the Stammerer, and Yainkel +Fonfatch; the others would perhaps have come, but these won't let them. +So I didn't know what to do. I argued a whole hour, and got nothing by +it, so then I unharnessed a horse, and came at full speed to know what +was to be done." + +We of the company could not stop laughing, but Reb Yitzchok-Aizik was +very angry. + +"Well, and you bargained with them? Won't they come for less?" he asked +the messenger. + +"Yes, I bargained, and they won't take a kopek less." + +"Have their prices gone up so high as all that?" exclaimed Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, with a satirical laugh. "Why did you leave the wagons? +We shall do without the tramps, that's all!" + +"How could I tell? I didn't know what to do. I was afraid you would be +displeased. Now I'll go and fetch the wagons back." + +"Wait! Don't be in such a hurry, take time!" + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik began consulting with the company and with himself. + +"What an idea! Who ever heard of such a thing? Poor people telling me +what to do, haggling with me over my wanting to give them a good dinner +and a nice present each, and saying they must be paid in rubles, +otherwise it's no bargain, ha! ha! For two guldens each it's not worth +their while? It cost them too much to stock the ware? Thirty kopeks +wouldn't pay them? I like their impertinence! Mischief take them, I +shall do without them! + +"Let the musicians play! Where is the beadle? They can begin putting the +veil on the bride." + +But directly afterwards he waved his hands. + +"Wait a little longer. It is still early. Why should it happen to _me_, +why should my pleasure be spoilt? Now I've got to marry my youngest +daughter without a dinner to the poor! I would have given them half a +ruble each, it's not the money I mind, but fancy bargaining with me! +Well, there, I have done my part, and if they won't come, I'm sure +they're not wanted; afterwards they'll be sorry; they don't get a +wedding like this every day. We shall do without them." + +"Well, can they put the veil on the bride?" the beadle came and +inquired. + +"Yes, they can.... No, tell them to wait a little longer!" + +Nearly all the guests, who were tired of waiting, cried out that the +tramps could very well be missed. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik's face suddenly assumed another expression, the anger +vanished, and he turned to me and a couple, of other friends, and asked +if we would drive to the town, and parley with the revolted +almsgatherers. + +"He has no brains, one can't depend on him," he said, referring to the +messenger. + +A horse was harnessed to a conveyance, and we drove off, followed by the +mounted messenger. + +"A revolt--a strike of almsgatherers, how do you like that?" we asked +one another all the way. We had heard of workmen striking, refusing to +work except for a higher wage, and so forth, but a strike of +paupers--paupers insisting on larger alms as pay for eating a free +dinner, such a thing had never been known. + +In twenty minutes time we drove into Lipovietz. + +In the market-place, in the centre of the town, stood the three great +peasant wagons, furnished with fresh straw. The small horses were +standing unharnessed, eating out of their nose-bags; round the wagons +were a hundred poor folk, some dumb, others lame, the greater part +blind, and half the town urchins with as many men. + +All of them were shouting and making a commotion. + +The Crooked One sat on a wagon, and banged it with his crutches; Long +Mekabbel, with a red plaster on his neck, stood beside him. + +These two leaders of the revolt were addressing the people, the meek of +the earth. + +"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Long Mekabbel, as he caught sight of us and the +messenger, "they have come to beg our acceptance!" + +"To beg our acceptance!" shouted the Crooked One, and banged his crutch. + +"Why won't you come to the wedding, to the dinner?" we inquired. +"Everyone will be given alms." + +"How much?" they asked all together. + +"We don't know, but you will take what they offer." + +"Will they give it us in kerblech? Because, if not, we don't go." + +"There will be a hole in the sky if you don't go," cried some of the +urchins present. + +The almsgatherers threw themselves on the urchins with their sticks, and +there was a bit of a row. + +Mekabbel the Long, standing on the cart, drew himself to his full +height, and began to shout: + +"Hush, hush, hush! Quiet, you crazy cripples! One can't hear oneself +speak! Let us hear what those have to say who are worth listening to!" +and he turned to us with the words: + +"You must know, dear Jews, that unless they distribute kerblech among +us, we shall not budge. Never you fear! Reb Yitzchok-Aizik won't marry +his youngest daughter without us, and where is he to get others of us +now? To send to Lunetz would cost him more in conveyances, and he would +have to put off the marriage." + +"What do they suppose? That because we are poor people they can do what +they please with us?" and a new striker hitched himself up by the +wheel, blind of one eye, with a tied-up jaw. "No one can oblige us to +go, even the chief of police and the governor cannot force us--either +it's kerblech, or we stay where we are." + +"K-ke-kkerb-kkerb-lech!!" came from Feitel the Stammerer. + +"Nienblech!" put in Yainkel Fonfatch, speaking through his small nose. +"No, more!" called out a couple of merry paupers. + +"Kerblech, kerblech!" shouted the rest in concert. + +And through their shouting and their speeches sounded such a note of +anger and of triumph, it seemed as though they were pouring out all the +bitterness of soul collected in the course of their sad and luckless +lives. + +They had always kept silence, had _had_ to keep silence, _had_ to +swallow the insults offered them along with the farthings, and the dry +bread, and the scraped bones, and this was the first time they had been +able to retaliate, the first time they had known how it felt to be +entreated by the fortunate in all things, and they were determined to +use their opportunity of asserting themselves to the full, to take their +revenge. In the word kerblech lay the whole sting of their resentment. + +And while we talked and reasoned with them, came a second messenger from +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik, to say that the paupers were to come at once, and +they would be given a ruble each. + +There was a great noise and scrambling, the three wagons filled with +almsgatherers, one crying out, "O my bad hand!" another, "O my foot!" +and a third, "O my poor bones!" The merry ones made antics, and sang in +their places, while the horses were put in, and the procession started +at a cheerful trot. The urchins gave a great hurrah, and threw little +stones after it, with squeals and whistles. + +The poor folks must have fancied they were being pelted with flowers and +sent off with songs, they looked so happy in the consciousness of their +victory. + +For the first and perhaps the last time in their lives, they had spoken +out, and got their own way. + +After the "canopy" and the chicken soup, that is, at "supper," tables +were spread for the friends of the family and separate ones for the +almsgatherers. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik and the members of his own household served the poor +with their own hands, pressing them to eat and drink. + +"Le-Chayyim to you, Reb Yitzchok-Aizik! May you have pleasure in your +children, and be a great man, a great rich man!" desired the poor. + +"Long life, long life to all of you, brethren! Drink in health, God help +All-Israel, and you among them!" replied Reb Yitzchok-Aizik. + +After supper the band played, and the almsgatherers, with Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, danced merrily in a ring round the bridegroom. + +Then who was so happy as Reb Yitzchok-Aizik? He danced in the ring, the +silk skirts of his long coat flapped and flew like eagles' wings, tears +of joy fell from his shining eyes, and his spirits rose to the seventh +heaven. + +He laughed and cried like a child, and exchanged embraces with the +almsgatherers. + +"Brothers!" he exclaimed as he danced, "let us be merry, let us be Jews! +Musicians, give us something cheerful--something gayer, livelier, +louder!" + +"This is what you call a Jewish wedding!" + +"This is how a Jew makes merry!" + +So the guests and the almsgatherers clapped their hands in time to the +music. + +Yes, dear readers, it _was_ what I call a Jewish Wedding! + + + + +A GLOOMY WEDDING + + +They handed Gittel a letter that had come by post, she put on her +spectacles, sat down by the window, and began to read. + +She read, and her face began to shine, and the wrinkled skin took on a +little color. It was plain that what she read delighted her beyond +measure, she devoured the words, caught her breath, and wept aloud in +the fulness of her joy. + +"At last, at last! Blessed be His dear Name, whom I am not worthy to +mention! I do not know, Gottinyu, how to thank Thee for the mercy Thou +hast shown me. Beile! Where is Beile? Where is Yossel? Children! Come, +make haste and wish me joy, a great joy has befallen us! Send for +Avremele, tell him to come with Zlatke and all the children." + +Thus Gittel, while she read the letter, never ceased calling every one +into the room, never ceased reading and calling, calling and reading, +and devouring the words as she read. + +Every soul who happened to be at home came running. + +"Good luck to you! Good luck to us all! Moishehle has become engaged in +Warsaw, and invites us all to the wedding," Gittel explained. "There, +read the letter, Lord of the World, may it be in a propitious hour, may +we all have comfort in one another, may we hear nothing but good news of +one another and of All-Israel! Read it, read it, children! He writes +that he has a very beautiful bride, well-favored, with a large dowry. +Lord of the World, I am not worthy of the mercy Thou hast shown me!" +repeated Gittel over and over, as she paced the room with uplifted +hands, while her daughter Beile took up the letter in her turn. The +children and everyone in the house, including the maid from the kitchen, +with rolled-up sleeves and wet hands, encircled Beile as she read aloud. + +"Read louder, Beiletshke, so that I can hear, so that we can all hear," +begged Gittel, and there were tears of happiness in her eyes. + +The children jumped for joy to see Grandmother so happy. The word +"wedding," which Beile read out of the letter, contained a promise of +all delightful things: musicians, pancakes, new frocks and suits, and +they could not keep themselves from dancing. The maid, too, was heartily +pleased, she kept on singing out, "Oi, what a bride, beautiful as gold!" +and did not know what to be doing next--should she go and finish cooking +the dinner, or should she pull down her sleeves and make holiday? + +The hiss of a pot boiling over in the kitchen interrupted the +letter-reading, and she was requested to go and attend to it forthwith. + +"The bride sends us a separate greeting, long life to her, may she live +when my bones are dust. Let us go to the provisor, he shall read it; it +is written in French." + +The provisor, the apothecary's foreman, who lived in the same house, +said the bride's letter was not written in French, but in Polish, that +she called Gittel her second mother, that she loved her son Moses as her +life, that he was her world, that she held herself to be the most +fortunate of girls, since God had given her Moses, that Gittel (once +more!) was her second mother, and she felt like a dutiful daughter +towards her, and hoped that Gittel would love her as her own child. + +The bride declared further that she kissed her new sister, Beile, a +thousand times, together with Zlatke and their husbands and children, +and she signed herself "Your forever devoted and loving daughter +Regina." + +An hour later all Gittel's children were assembled round her, her eldest +son Avremel with his wife, Zlatke and her little ones, Beile's husband, +and her son-in-law Yossel. All read the letter with eager curiosity, +brandy and spice-cakes were placed on the table, wine was sent for, they +drank healths, wished each other joy, and began to talk of going to the +wedding. + +Gittel, very tired with all she had gone through this day, went to lie +down for a while to rest her head, which was all in a whirl, but the +others remained sitting at the table, and never stopped talking of +Moisheh. + +"I can imagine the sort of engagement Moisheh has made, begging his +pardon," remarked the daughter-in-law, and wiped her pale lips. + +"I should think so, a man who's been a bachelor up to thirty! It's easy +to fancy the sort of bride, and the sort of family she has, if they +accepted Moisheh as a suitor," agreed the daughter. + +"God helping, this ought to make a man of him," sighed Moisheh's elder +brother, "he's cost us trouble and worry enough." + +"It's your fault," Yossel told him. "If I'd been his elder brother, he +would have turned out differently! I should have directed him like a +father, and taken him well in hand." + +"You think so, but when God wishes to punish a man through his own child +going astray, nothing is of any use; these are not the old times, when +young people feared a Rebbe, and respected their elders. Nowadays the +world is topsyturvy, and no sooner has a boy outgrown his childhood than +he does what he pleases, and parents are nowhere. What have I left +undone to make something out of him, so that he should be a credit to +his family? Then, he was left an orphan very early; perhaps he would +have obeyed his father (may he enter a lightsome paradise!), but for a +brother and his mother, he paid them as much attention as last year's +snow, and, if you said anything to him, he answered rudely, and neither +coaxing nor scolding was any good. Now, please God, he'll make a fresh +start, and give up his antics before it's too late. His poor mother! +She's had trouble enough on his account, as we all know." + +Beile let fall a tear and said: + +"If our father (may he be our kind advocate!) were alive, Moishehle +would never have made an engagement like this. Who knows what sort of +connections they will be! I can see them, begging his pardon, from here! +Is he likely to have asked anyone's advice? He always had a will of his +own--did what he wanted to do, never asked his mother, or his sister, or +his brother, beforehand. Now he's a bridegroom at thirty if he's a day, +and we are all asked to the wedding, are we really? And we shall soon +all be running to see the fine sight, such as never was seen before. We +are no such fools! He thinks _himself_ the clever one now! So he wants +us to be at the wedding? Only says it out of politeness." + +"We must go, all the same," said Avremel. + +"Go and welcome, if you want to--you won't catch _me_ there," answered +his sister. + +There was a deal more discussion and disputing about not going to the +wedding, and only congratulating by telegram, for good manners' sake. +Since he had asked no one's advice, and engaged himself without them, +let him get married without them, too! + +Gittel, up in her bedroom, could not so soon compose herself after the +events of the day. What she had experienced was no trifle. Moishehle +engaged to be married! She had been through so much on his account in +the course of her life, she had loved him, her youngest born, so dearly! +He was such a beautiful child that the light of his countenance dazzled +you, and bright as the day, so that people opened ears and mouth to hear +him talk, and God and men alike envied her the possession of such a boy. + +"I counted on making a match for him, as I did with Avremel before him. +He was offered the best connections, with the families of the greatest +Rabbis. But, no--no--he wanted to go on studying. 'Study here, study +there,' said I, 'sixteen years old and a bachelor! If you want to study, +can't you study at your father-in-law's, eating Köst? There are books in +plenty, thank Heaven, of your father's.' No, no, he wanted to go and +study elsewhere, asked nobody's advice, and made off, and for two months +I never had a line. I nearly went out of my mind. Then, suddenly, there +came a letter, begging my pardon for not having said good-by, and would +I forgive him, and send him some money, because he had nothing to eat. +It tore my heart to think my Moishehle, who used to make me happy +whenever he enjoyed a meal, should hunger. I sent him some money, I went +on sending him money for three years, after that he stopped asking for +it. I begged him to come home, he made no reply. 'I don't wish to +quarrel with Avremel, my sister, and her husband,' he wrote later, 'we +cannot live together in peace.' Why? I don't know! Then, for a time, he +left off writing altogether, and the messages we got from him sounded +very sad. Now he was in Kieff, now in Odessa, now in Charkoff, and they +told us he was living like any Gentile, had not the look of a Jew at +all. Some said he was living with a Gentile woman, a countess, and would +never marry in his life." + +Five years ago he had suddenly appeared at home, "to see his mother," as +he said. Gittel did not recognize him, he was so changed. The rest found +him quite the stranger: he had a "goyish" shaven face, with a twisted +moustache, and was got up like a rich Gentile, with a purse full of +bank-notes. His family were ashamed to walk abroad with him, Gittel +never ceased weeping and imploring him to give up the countess, remain a +Jew, stay with his mother, and she, with God's help, would make an +excellent match for him, if he would only alter his appearance and ways +just a little. Moishehle solemnly assured his mother that he was a Jew, +that there was no countess, but that he wouldn't remain at home for a +million rubles, first, because he had business elsewhere, and secondly, +he had no fancy for his native town, there was nothing there for him to +do, and to dispute with his brother and sister about religious piety was +not worth his while. + +So Moishehle departed, and Gittel wept, wondering why he was different +from the other children, seeing they all had the same mother, and she +had lived and suffered for all alike. Why would he not stay with her at +home? What would he have wanted for there? God be praised, not to sin +with her tongue, thanks to God first, and then to _him_ (a lightsome +paradise be his!), they were provided for, with a house and a few +thousand rubles, all that was necessary for their comfort, and a little +ready money besides. The house alone, not to sin with her tongue, would +bring in enough to make a living. Other people envy us, but it doesn't +happen to please him, and he goes wandering about the world--without a +wife and without a home--a man twenty and odd years old, and without a +home! + +The rest of the family were secretly well content to be free of such a +poor creature--"the further off, the better--the shame is less." + +A letter from him came very seldom after this, and for the last two +years he had dropped out altogether. Nobody was surprised, for everyone +was convinced that Moisheh would never come to anything. Some told that +he was in prison, others knew that he had gone abroad and was being +pursued, others, that he had hung himself because he was tired of life, +and that before his death he had repented of all his sins, only it was +too late. + +His relations heard all these reports, and were careful to keep them +from his mother, because they were not sure that the bad news was true. + +Gittel bore the pain at her heart in silence, weeping at times over her +Moishehle, who had got into bad ways--and now, suddenly, this precious +letter with its precious news: Her Moishehle is about to marry, and +invites them to the wedding! + +Thus Gittel, lying in bed in her own room, recalled everything she had +suffered through her undutiful son, only now--now everything was +forgotten and forgiven, and her mother's heart was full of love for her +Moishehle, just as in the days when he toddled about at her apron, and +pleased his mother and everyone else. + +All her thoughts were now taken up with getting ready to attend the +wedding; the time was so short--there were only three weeks left. When +her other children were married, Gittel began her preparations three +months ahead, and now there were only three weeks. + +Next day she took out her watered silk dress, with the green satin +flowers, and hung it up to air, examined it, lest there should be a hook +missing. After that she polished her long ear-rings with chalk, her +pearls, her rings, and all her other ornaments, and bought a new yellow +silk kerchief for her head, with a large flowery pattern in a lighter +shade. + +A week before the journey to Warsaw they baked spice-cakes, pancakes, +and almond-rolls to take with her, "from the bridegroom's side," and +ordered a wig for the bride. When her eldest son was married, Gittel had +also given the bride silver candlesticks for Friday evenings, and +presented her with a wig for the Veiling Ceremony. + +And before she left, Gittel went to her husband's grave, and asked him +to be present at the wedding as a good advocate for the newly-married +pair. + +Gittel started for Warsaw in grand style, and cheerful and happy, as +befits a mother going to the wedding of her favorite son. All those who +accompanied her to the station declared that she looked younger and +prettier by twenty years, and made a beautiful bridegroom's mother. + +Besides wedding presents for the bride, Gittel took with her money for +wedding expenses, so that she might play her part with becoming +lavishness, and people should not think her Moishehle came, bless and +preserve us, of a low-born family--to show that he was none so forlorn +but he had, God be praised and may it be for a hundred and twenty years +to come! a mother, and a sister, and brothers, and came of a well-to-do +family. She would show them that she could be as fine a bridegroom's +mother as anyone, even, thank God, in Warsaw. Moishehle was her last +child, and she grudged him nothing. Were _he_ (may he be a good +intercessor!) alive, he would certainly have graced the wedding better, +and spent more money, but she would spare nothing to make a good figure +on the occasion. She would treat every connection of the bride to a +special dance-tune, give the musicians a whole five-ruble-piece for +their performance of the Vivat, and two dreierlech for the Kosher-Tanz, +beside something for the Rav, the cantor, and the beadle, and alms for +the poor--what should she save for? She has no more children to marry +off--blessed be His dear Name, who had granted her life to see her +Moishehle's wedding! + +Thus happily did Gittel start for Warsaw. + +One carriage after another drove up to the wedding-reception room in +Dluga Street, Warsaw, ladies and their daughters, all in evening dress, +and smartly attired gentlemen, alighted and went in. + +The room was full, the band played, ladies and gentlemen were dancing, +and those who were not, talked of the bride and bridegroom, and said how +fortunate they considered Regina, to have secured such a presentable +young man, lively, educated, and intelligent, with quite a fortune, +which he had made himself, and a good business. Ten thousand rubles +dowry with the perfection of a husband was a rare thing nowadays, when a +poor professional man, a little doctor without practice, asked fifteen +thousand. It was true, they said, that Regina was a pretty girl and a +credit to her parents, but how many pretty, bright girls had more money +than Regina, and sat waiting? + +It was above all the mothers of the young ladies present who talked low +in this way among themselves. + +The bride sat on a chair at the end of the room, ladies and young girls +on either side of her; Gittel, the bridegroom's mother in her watered +silk dress, with the large green satin flowers, was seated between two +ladies with dresses cut so low that Gittel could not bear to look at +them--women with husbands and children daring to show themselves like +that at a wedding! Then she could not endure the odor of their bare +skin, the powder, pomade, and perfumes with which they were smeared, +sprinkled, and wetted, even to their hair. All these strange smells +tickled Gittel's nose, and went to her head like a fume. She sat +between the two ladies, feeling cramped and shut in, unable to stir, and +would gladly have gone away. Only whither? Where should she, the +bridegroom's mother, be sitting, if not near the bride, at the upper end +of the room? But all the ladies sitting there are half-naked. Should she +sit near the door? That would never do. And Gittel remained sitting, in +great embarrassment, between the two women, and looked on at the +reception, and saw nothing but a room full of _decolletées_, ladies and +girls. + +Gittel felt more and more uncomfortable, it made her quite faint to look +at them. + +"One can get over the girls, young things, because a girl has got to +please, although no Jewish daughter ought to show herself to everyone +like that, but what are you to do with present-day children, especially +in a dissolute city like Warsaw? But young women, and women who have +husbands and children, and no need, thank God, to please anyone, how are +they not ashamed before God and other people and their own children, to +come to a wedding half-naked, like loose girls in a public house? Jewish +daughters, who ought not to be seen uncovered by the four walls of their +room, to come like that to a wedding! To a Jewish wedding!... Tpfu, +tpfu, I'd like to spit at this newfangled world, may God not punish me +for these words! It is enough to make one faint to see such a display +among Jews!" + +After the ceremony under the canopy, which was erected in the centre of +the room, the company sat down to the table, and Gittel was again seated +at the top, between the two women before mentioned, whose perfumes went +to her head. + +She felt so queer and so ill at ease that she could not partake of the +dinner, her mouth seemed locked, and the tears came in her eyes. + +When they rose from table, Gittel sought out a place removed from the +"upper end," and sat down in a window, but presently the bride's mother, +also in _decolleté_, caught sight of her, and went and took her by the +hand. + +"Why are you sitting here, Mechuteneste? Why are you not at the top?" + +"I wanted to rest myself a little." + +"Oh, no, no, come and sit there," said the lady, led her away by force, +and seated her between the two ladies with the perfumes. + +Long, long did she sit, feeling more and more sick and dizzy. If only +she could have poured out her heart to some one person, if she could +have exchanged a single word with anybody during that whole evening, it +would have been a relief, but there was no one to speak to. The music +played, there was dancing, but Gittel could see nothing more. She felt +an oppression at her heart, and became covered with perspiration, her +head grew heavy, and she fell from her chair. + +"The bridegroom's mother has fainted!" was the outcry through the whole +room. "Water, water!" + +They fetched water, discovered a doctor among the guests, and he led +Gittel into another room, and soon brought her round. + +The bride, the bridegroom, the bride's mother, and the two ladies ran +in: + +"What can have caused it? Lie down! How do you feel now? Perhaps you +would like a sip of lemonade?" they all asked. + +"Thank you, I want nothing, I feel better already, leave me alone for a +while. I shall soon recover myself, and be all right." + +So Gittel was left alone, and she breathed more easily, her head stopped +aching, she felt like one let out of prison, only there was a pain at +her heart. The tears which had choked her all day now began to flow, and +she wept abundantly. The music never ceased playing, she heard the sound +of the dancers' feet and the directions of the master of ceremonies; the +floor shook, Gittel wept, and tried with all her might to keep from +sobbing, so that people should not hear and come in and disturb her. She +had not wept so since the death of her husband, and this was the wedding +of her favorite son! + +By degrees she ceased to weep altogether, dried her eyes, and sat +quietly talking to herself of the many things that passed through her +head. + +"Better that _he_ (may he enter a lightsome paradise!) should have died +than lived to see what I have seen, and the dear delight which I have +had, at the wedding of my youngest child! Better that I myself should +not have lived to see his marriage canopy. Canopy, indeed! Four sticks +stuck up in the middle of the room to make fun with, for people to play +at being married, like monkeys! Then at table: no Seven Blessings, not a +Jewish word, not a Jewish face, no Minyan to be seen, only shaven +Gentiles upon Gentiles, a roomful of naked women and girls that make you +sick to look at them. Moishehle had better have married a poor orphan, +I shouldn't have been half so ashamed or half so unhappy." + +Gittel called to mind the sort of a bridegroom's mother she had been at +the marriage of her eldest son, and the satisfaction she had felt. Four +hundred women had accompanied her to the Shool when Avremele was called +to the Reading of the Law as a bridegroom, and they had scattered nuts, +almonds, and raisins down upon him as he walked; then the party before +the wedding, and the ceremony of the canopy, and the procession with the +bride and bridegroom to the Shool, the merry home-coming, the golden +soup, the bridegroom brought at supper time to the sound of music, the +cantor and his choir, who sang while they sat at table, the Seven +Blessings, the Vivat played for each one separately, the Kosher-Tanz, +the dance round the bridegroom--and the whole time it had been Gittel +here and Gittel there: "Good luck to you, Gittel, may you be happy in +the young couple and in all your other children, and live to dance at +the wedding of your youngest" (it was a delight and no mistake!). "Where +is Gittel?" she hears them cry. "The uncle, the aunt, a cousin have paid +for a dance for the Mechuteneste on the bridegroom's side! Play, +musicians all!" The company make way for her, and she dances with the +uncle, the aunt, and the cousin, and all the rest clap their hands. She +is tired with dancing, but still they call "Gittel"! An old friend sings +a merry song in her honor. "Play, musicians all!" And Gittel dances on, +the company clap their hands, and wish her all that is good, and she is +penetrated with genuine happiness and the joy of the occasion. Then, +then, when the guests begin to depart, and the mothers of bridegroom and +bride whisper together about the forthcoming Veiling Ceremony, she sees +the bride in her wig, already a wife, her daughter-in-law! Her jam +pancakes and almond-rolls are praised by all, and what cakes are left +over from the Veiling Ceremony are either snatched one by one, or else +they are seized wholesale by the young people standing round the table, +so that she should not see, and they laugh and tease her. That is the +way to become a mother-in-law! And here, of course, the whole of the +pancakes and sweet-cakes and almond-rolls which she brought have never +so much as been unpacked, and are to be thrown away or taken home again, +as you please! A shame! No one came to her for cakes. The wig, too, may +be thrown away or carried back--Moishehle told her it was not required, +it wouldn't quite do. The bride accepted the silver candlesticks with +embarrassment, as though Gittel had done something to make her feel +awkward, and some girls who were standing by smiled, "Regina has been +given candlesticks for the candle-blessing on Fridays--ha, ha, ha!" + +The bridal couple with the girl's parents came in to ask how she felt, +and interrupted the current of her thoughts. + +"We shall drive home now, people are leaving," they said. + +"The wedding is over," they told her, "everything in life comes to a +speedy end." + +Gittel remembered that when Avremel was married, the festivities had +lasted a whole week, till over the second cheerful Sabbath, when the +bride, the new daughter-in-law, was led to the Shool! + +The day after the wedding Gittel drove home, sad, broken in spirit, as +people return from the cemetery where they have buried a child, where +they have laid a fragment of their own heart, of their own life, under +the earth. + +Driving home in the carriage, she consoled herself with this at least: + +"A good thing that Beile and Zlatke, Avremel and Yossel were not there. +The shame will be less, there will be less talk, nobody will know what I +am suffering." + +Gittel arrived the picture of gloom. + +When she left for the wedding, she had looked suddenly twenty years +younger, and now she looked twenty years older than before! + + + + +POVERTY + + +I was living in Mezkez at the time, and Seinwill Bookbinder lived there +too. + +But Heaven only knows where he is now! Even then his continual pallor +augured no long residence in Mezkez, and he was a Yadeschlever Jew with +a wife and six small children, and he lived by binding books. + +Who knows what has become of him! But that is not the question--I only +want to prove that Seinwill was a great liar. + +If he is already in the other world, may he forgive me--and not be very +angry with me, if he is still living in Mezkez! + +He was an orthodox and pious Jew, but when you gave him a book to bind, +he never kept his word. + +When he took a book and even the whole of his pay in advance, he would +swear by beard and earlocks, by wife and children, and by the Messiah, +that he would bring it back to you by Sabbath, but you had to be at him +for weeks before the work was finished and sent in. + +Once, on a certain Friday, I remembered that next day, Sabbath, I should +have a few hours to myself for reading. + +A fortnight before I had given Seinwill a new book to bind for me. It +was just a question whether or not he would return it in time, so I set +out for his home, with the intention of bringing back the book, finished +or not. I had paid him his twenty kopeks in advance, so what excuses +could he possibly make? Once for all, I would give him a bit of my mind, +and take away the work unfinished--it will be a lesson for him for the +next time! + +Thus it was, walking along and deciding on what I should say to +Seinwill, that I turned into the street to which I had been directed. +Once in the said street, I had no need to ask questions, for I was at +once shown a little, low house, roofed with mouldered slate. + +I stooped a little by way of precaution, and entered Seinwill's house, +which consisted of a large kitchen. + +Here he lived with his wife and children, and here he worked. + +In the great stove that took up one-third of the kitchen there was a +cheerful crackling, as in every Jewish home on a Friday. + +In the forepart of the oven, on either hand, stood a variety of pots and +pipkins, and gossipped together in their several tones. An elder child +stood beside them holding a wooden spoon, with which she stirred or +skimmed as the case required. + +Seinwill's wife, very much occupied, stood by the one four-post bed, +which was spread with a clean white sheet, and on which she had laid out +various kinds of cakes, of unbaked dough, in honor of Sabbath. Beside +her stood a child, its little face red with crying, and hindered her in +her work. + +"Seinwill, take Chatzkele away! How can I get on with the cakes? Don't +you know it's Friday?" she kept calling out, and Seinwill, sitting at +his work beside a large table covered with books, repeated every time +like an echo: + +"Chatzkele, let mother alone!" + +And Chatzkele, for all the notice he took, might have been as deaf as +the bedpost. + +The minute Seinwill saw me, he ran to meet me in a shamefaced way, like +a sinner caught in the act; and before I was able to say a word, that +is, tell him angrily and with decision that he must give me my book +finished or not--never mind about the twenty kopeks, and so on--and thus +revenge myself on him, he began to answer, and he showed me that my book +was done, it was already in the press, and there only remained the +lettering to be done on the back. Just a few minutes more, and he would +bring it to my house. + +"No, I will wait and take it myself," I said, rather vexed. + +Besides, I knew that to stamp a few letters on a book-cover could not +take more than a few minutes at most. + +"Well, if you are so good as to wait, it will not take long. There is a +fire in the oven, I have only just got to heat the screw." + +And so saying, he placed a chair for me, dusted it with the flap of his +coat, and I sat down to wait. Seinwill really took my book out of the +press quite finished except for the lettering on the cover, and began to +hurry. Now he is by the oven--from the oven to the corner--and once more +to the oven and back to the corner--and so on ten times over, saying to +me every time: + +"There, directly, directly, in another minute," and back once more +across the room. + +So it went on for about ten minutes, and I began to take quite an +interest in this running of his from one place to another, with empty +hands, and doing nothing but repeat "Directly, directly, this minute!" + +Most of all I wonder why he keeps on looking into the corner--he never +takes his eyes off that corner. What is he looking for, what does he +expect to see there? I watch his face growing sadder--he must be +suffering from something or other--and all the while he talks to +himself, "Directly, directly, in one little minute." He turns to me: "I +must ask you to wait a little longer. It will be very soon now--in +another minute's time. Just because we want it so badly, you'd think +she'd rather burst," he said, and he went back to the corner, stooped, +and looked into it. + +"What are you looking for there every minute?" I ask him. + +"Nothing. But directly--Take my advice: why should you sit there +waiting? I will bring the book to you myself. When one wants her to, she +won't!" + +"All right, it's Friday, so I need not hurry. Why should you have the +trouble, as I am already here?" I reply, and ask him who is the "she who +won't." + +"You see, my wife, who is making cakes, is kept waiting by her too, and +I, with the lettering to do on the book, I also wait." + +"But _what_ are you waiting for?" + +"You see, if the cakes are to take on a nice glaze while baking, they +must be brushed over with a yolk." + +"Well, and what has that to do with stamping the letters on the cover of +the book?" + +"What has that to do with it? Don't you know that the glaze-gold which +is used for the letters will not stick to the cover without some white +of egg?" + +"Yes, I have seen them smearing the cover with white of egg before +putting on the letters. Then what?" + +"How 'what?' That is why we are waiting for the egg." + +"So you have sent out to buy an egg?" + +"No, but it will be there directly." He points out to me the corner +which he has been running to look into the whole time, and there, on the +ground, I see an overturned sieve, and under the sieve, a hen turning +round and round and cackling. + +"As if she'd rather burst!" continued Seinwill. "Just because we want it +so badly, she won't lay. She lays an egg for me nearly every time, and +now--just as if she'd rather burst!" he said, and began to scratch his +head. + +And the hen? The hen went on turning round and round like a prisoner in +a dungeon, and cackled louder than ever. + +To tell the truth, I had inferred at once that Seinwill was persuaded I +should wait for my book till the hen had laid an egg, and as I watched +Seinwill's wife, and saw with what anxiety she waited for the hen to +lay, I knew that I was right, that Seinwill was indeed so persuaded, for +his wife called to him: + +"Ask the young man for a kopek and send the child to buy an egg in the +market. The cakes are getting cold." + +"The young man owes me nothing, a few weeks ago he paid me for the whole +job. There is no one to borrow from, nobody will lend me anything, I owe +money all around, my very hair is not my own." + +When Seinwill had answered his wife, he took another peep into the +corner, and said: + +"She will not keep us waiting much longer now. She can't cackle forever. +Another two minutes!" + +But the hen went on puffing out her feathers, pecking and cackling for a +good deal more than two minutes. It seemed as if she could not bear to +see her master and mistress in trouble, as if she really wished to do +them a kindness by laying an egg. But no egg appeared. + +I _lent_ Seinwill two or three kopeks, which he was to pay me back in +work, because Seinwill has never once asked for, or accepted, charity, +and the child was sent to the market. + +A few minutes later, when the child had come back with an egg, +Seinwill's wife had the glistening Sabbath cakes on a shovel, and was +placing them gaily in the oven; my book was finished, and the +unfortunate hen, released at last from her prison, the sieve, ceased to +cackle and to ruffle out her plumage. + + + + +SHOLOM-ALECHEM + + +Pen name of Shalom Rabinovitz; born, 1859, in Pereyaslav, Government of +Poltava, Little Russia; Government Rabbi, at twenty-one, in Lubni, near +his native place; has spent the greater part of his life in Kieff; in +Odessa from 1890 to 1893, and in America from 1905 to 1907; Hebrew, +Russian, and Yiddish poet, novelist, humorous short story writer, +critic, and playwright; prolific contributor to Hebrew and Yiddish +periodicals; founder of Die jüdische Volksbibliothek; novels: Stempenyu, +Yosele Solovei, etc.; collected works: first series, Alle Werk, 4 vols., +Cracow, 1903-1904; second series, Neueste Werk, 8 vols., Warsaw, +1909-1911. + + + + +THE CLOCK + + +The clock struck thirteen! + +Don't imagine I am joking, I am telling you in all seriousness what +happened in Mazepevke, in our house, and I myself was there at the time. + +We had a clock, a large clock, fastened to the wall, an old, old clock +inherited from my grandfather, which had been left him by my +great-grandfather, and so forth. Too bad, that a clock should not be +alive and able to tell us something beside the time of day! What stories +we might have heard as we sat with it in the room! Our clock was famous +throughout the town as the best clock going--"Reb Simcheh's clock"--and +people used to come and set their watches by it, because it kept more +accurate time than any other. You may believe me that even Reb Lebish, +the sage, a philosopher, who understood the time of sunset from the sun +itself, and knew the calendar by rote, he said himself--I heard +him--that our clock was--well, as compared with his watch, it wasn't +worth a pinch of snuff, but as there _were_ such things as clocks, our +clock _was_ a clock. And if Reb Lebish himself said so, you may depend +upon it he was right, because every Wednesday, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, Reb Lebish climbed busily onto the roof of the women's +Shool, or onto the top of the hill beside the old house-of-study, and +looked out for the minute when the sun should set, in one hand his +watch, and in the other the calendar. And when the sun dropt out of +sight on the further side of Mazepevke, Reb Lebish said to himself, +"Got him!" and at once came away to compare his watch with the clocks. +When he came in to us, he never gave us a "good evening," only glanced +up at the clock on the wall, then at his watch, then at the almanac, and +was gone! + +But it happened one day that when Reb Lebish came in to compare our +clock with the almanac, he gave a shout: + +"Sim-cheh! Make haste! Where are you?" + +My father came running in terror. + +"Ha, what has happened, Reb Lebish?" + +"Wretch, you dare to ask?" and Reb Lebish held his watch under my +father's nose, pointed at our clock, and shouted again, like a man with +a trodden toe: + +"Sim-cheh! Why don't you speak? It is a minute and a half ahead of the +time! Throw it away!" + +My father was vexed. What did Reb Lebish mean by telling him to throw +away his clock? + +"Who is to prove," said he, "that my clock is a minute and a half fast? +Perhaps it is the other way about, and your watch is a minute and a half +slow? Who is to tell?" + +Reb Lebish stared at him as though he had said that it was possible to +have three days of New Moon, or that the Seventeenth of Tammuz might +possibly fall on the Eve of Passover, or made some other such wild +remark, enough, if one really took it in, to give one an apoplectic fit. +Reb Lebish said never a word, he gave a deep sigh, turned away without +wishing us "good evening," slammed the door, and was gone. But no one +minded much, because the whole town knew Reb Lebish for a person who +was never satisfied with anything: he would tell you of the best cantor +that he was a dummy, a log; of the cleverest man, that he was a +lumbering animal; of the most appropriate match, that it was as crooked +as an oven rake; and of the most apt simile, that it was as applicable +as a pea to the wall. Such a man was Reb Lebish. + +But let me return to our clock. I tell you, that _was_ a clock! You +could hear it strike three rooms away: Bom! bom! bom! Half the town went +by it, to recite the Midnight Prayers, to get up early for Seliches +during the week before New Year and on the ten Solemn Days, to bake the +Sabbath loaves on Fridays, to bless the candles on Friday evening. They +lighted the fire by it on Saturday evening, they salted the meat, and so +all the other things pertaining to Judaism. In fact, our clock was the +town clock. The poor thing served us faithfully, and never tried +stopping even for a time, never once in its life had it to be set to +rights by a clockmaker. My father kept it in order himself, he had an +inborn talent for clock work. Every year on the Eve of Passover, he +deliberately took it down from the wall, dusted the wheels with a +feather brush, removed from its inward part a collection of spider webs, +desiccated flies, which the spiders had lured in there to their +destruction, and heaps of black cockroaches, which had gone in of +themselves, and found a terrible end. Having cleaned and polished it, he +hung it up again on the wall and shone, that is, they both shone: the +clock shone because it was cleaned and polished, and my father shone +because the clock shone. + +And it came to pass one day that something happened. + +It was on a fine, bright, cloudless day; we were all sitting at table, +eating breakfast, and the clock struck. Now I always loved to hear the +clock strike and count the strokes out loud: + +"One--two--three--seven--eleven--twelve--thirteen! Oi! _Thirteen?_" + +"Thirteen?" exclaimed my father, and laughed. "You're a fine +arithmetician (no evil eye!). Whenever did you hear a clock strike +thirteen?" + +"But I tell you, it _struck_ thirteen!" + +"I shall give you thirteen slaps," cried my father, angrily, "and then +you won't repeat this nonsense again. Goi, a clock _cannot_ strike +thirteen!" + +"Do you know what, Simcheh," put in my mother, "I am afraid the child is +right, I fancy I counted thirteen, too." + +"There's another witness!" said my father, but it appeared that he had +begun to feel a little doubtful himself, for after the meal he went up +to the clock, got upon a chair, gave a turn to a little wheel inside the +clock, and it began to strike. We all counted the strokes, nodding our +head at each one the while: +one--two--three--seven--nine--twelve--thirteen. + +"Thirteen!" exclaimed my father, looking at us in amaze. He gave the +wheel another turn, and again the clock struck thirteen. My father got +down off the chair with a sigh. He was as white as the wall, and +remained standing in the middle of the room, stared at the ceiling, +chewed his beard, and muttered to himself: + +"Plague take thirteen! What can it mean? What does it portend? If it +were out of order, it would have stopped. Then, what can it be? The +inference can only be that some spring has gone wrong." + +"Why worry whether it's a spring or not?" said my mother. "You'd better +take down the clock and put it to rights, as you've a turn that way." + +"Hush, perhaps you're right," answered my father, took down the clock +and busied himself with it. He perspired, spent a whole day over it, and +hung it up again in its place. + +Thank God, the clock was going as it should, and when, near midnight, we +all stood round it and counted _twelve_, my father was overjoyed. + +"Ha? It didn't strike thirteen then, did it? When I say it is a spring, +I know what I'm about." + +"I always said you were a wonder," my mother told him. "But there is one +thing I don't understand: why does it wheeze so? I don't think it used +to wheeze like that." + +"It's your fancy," said my father, and listened to the noise it made +before striking, like an old man preparing to cough: +chil-chil-chil-chil-trrrr ... and only then: bom!--bom!--bom!--and even +the "bom" was not the same as formerly, for the former "bom" had been a +cheerful one, and now there had crept into it a melancholy note, as into +the voice of an old worn-out cantor at the close of the service for the +Day of Atonement, and the hoarseness increased, and the strike became +lower and duller, and my father, worried and anxious. It was plain that +the affair preyed upon his mind, that he suffered in secret, that it +was undermining his health, and yet he could do nothing. We felt that +any moment the clock might stop altogether. The imp started playing all +kinds of nasty tricks and idle pranks, shook itself sideways, and +stumbled like an old man who drags his feet after him. One could see +that the clock was about to stop forever! It was a good thing my father +understood in time that the clock was about to yield up its soul, and +that the fault lay with the balance weights: the weight was too light. +And he puts on a jostle, which has the weight of about four pounds. The +clock goes on like a song, and my father becomes as cheerful as a +newborn man. + +But this was not to be for long: the clock began to lose again, the imp +was back at his tiresome performances: he moved slowly on one side, +quickly on the other, with a hoarse noise, like a sick old man, so that +it went to the heart. A pity to see how the clock agonized, and my +father, as he watched it, seemed like a flickering, bickering flame of a +candle, and nearly went out for grief. + +Like a good doctor, who is ready to sacrifice himself for the patient's +sake, who puts forth all his energy, tries every remedy under the sun to +save his patient, even so my father applied himself to save the old +clock, if only it should be possible. + +"The weight is too light," repeated my father, and hung something +heavier onto it every time, first a frying-pan, then a copper jug, +afterwards a flat-iron, a bag of sand, a couple of tiles--and the clock +revived every time and went on, with difficulty and distress, but still +it went--till one night there was a misfortune. + +It was on a Friday evening in winter. We had just eaten our Sabbath +supper, the delicious peppered fish with horseradish, the hot soup with +macaroni, the stewed plums, and said grace as was meet. The Sabbath +candles flickered, the maid was just handing round fresh, hot, +well-dried Polish nuts from off the top of the stove, when in came Aunt +Yente, a dark-favored little woman without teeth, whose husband had +deserted her, to become a follower of the Rebbe, quite a number of years +ago. + +"Good Sabbath!" said Aunt Yente, "I knew you had some fresh Polish nuts. +The pity is that I've nothing to crack them with, may my husband live no +more years than I have teeth in my mouth! What did you think, Malkeh, of +the fish to-day? What a struggle there was over them at the market! I +asked him about his fish--Manasseh, the lazy--when up comes Soreh Peril, +the rich: Make haste, give it me, hand me over that little pike!--Why in +such a hurry? say I. God be with you, the river is not on fire, and +Manasseh is not going to take the fish back there, either. Take my word +for it, with these rich people money is cheap, and sense is dear. Turns +round on me and says: Paupers, she says, have no business here--a poor +man, she says, shouldn't hanker after good things. What do you think of +such a shrew? How long did she stand by her mother in the market selling +ribbons? She behaves just like Pessil Peise Avròhom's over her daughter, +the one she married to a great man in Schtrischtch, who took her just +as she was, without any dowry or anything--Jewish luck! They say she has +a bad time of it--no evil eye to her days--can't get on with his +children. Well, who would be a stepmother? Let them beware! Take +Chavvehle! What is there to find fault with in her? And you should see +the life her stepchildren lead her! One hears shouting day and night, +cursing, squabbling, and fighting." + +The candles began to die down, the shadow climbed the wall, scrambled +higher and higher, the nuts crackled in our hands, there was talking and +telling stories and tales, just for the pleasure of it, one without any +reference to the other, but Aunt Yente talked more than anyone. + +"Hush!" cried out Aunt Yente, "listen, because not long ago a still +better thing happened. Not far from Yampele, about three versts away, +some robbers fell upon a Jewish tavern, killed a whole houseful of +people, down to a baby in a cradle. The only person left alive was a +servant-girl, who was sleeping on the kitchen stove. She heard people +screeching, and jumped down, this servant-girl, off the stove, peeped +through a chink in the door, and saw, this servant-girl I'm telling you +of, saw the master of the house and the mistress lying on the floor, +murdered, in a pool of blood, and she went back, this girl, and sprang +through a window, and ran into the town screaming: Jews, to the rescue, +help, help, help!" + +Suddenly, just as Aunt Yente was shouting, "Help, help, help!" we heard +_trrraach!--tarrrach!--bom--dzin--dzin--dzin, bomm!!_ We were so deep in +the story, we only thought at first that robbers had descended upon our +house, and were firing guns, and we could not move for terror. For one +minute we looked at one another, and then with one accord we began to +call out, "Help! help! help!" and my mother was so carried away that she +clasped me in her arms and cried: + +"My child, my life for yours, woe is me!" + +"Ha? What? What is the matter with him? What has happened?" exclaimed my +father. + +"Nothing! nothing! hush! hush!" cried Aunt Yente, gesticulating wildly, +and the maid came running in from the kitchen, more dead than alive. + +"Who screamed? What is it? Is there a fire? What is on fire? Where?" + +"Fire? fire? Where is the fire?" we all shrieked. "Help! help! Gewalt, +Jews, to the rescue, fire, fire!" + +"Which fire? what fire? where fire?! Fire take _you_, you foolish girl, +and make cinders of you!" scolded Aunt Yente at the maid. "Now _she_ +must come, as though we weren't enough before! Fire, indeed, says she! +Into the earth with you, to all black years! Did you ever hear of such a +thing? What are you all yelling for? Do you know what it was that +frightened you? The best joke in the world, and there's nobody to laugh +with! God be with you, it was the clock falling onto the floor--now you +know! You hung every sort of thing onto it, and now it is fallen, +weighing at least three pud. And no wonder! A man wouldn't have fared +better. Did you ever?!" + +It was only then we came to our senses, rose one by one from the table, +went to the clock, and saw it lying on its poor face, killed, broken, +shattered, and smashed for evermore! + +"There is an end to the clock!" said my father, white as the wall. He +hung his head, wrung his fingers, and the tears came into his eyes. I +looked at my father and wanted to cry, too. + +"There now, see, what is the use of fretting to death?" said my mother. +"No doubt it was so decreed and written down in Heaven that to-day, at +that particular minute, our clock was to find its end, just (I beg to +distinguish!) like a human being, may God not punish me for saying so! +May it be an Atonement for not remembering the Sabbath, for me, for +thee, for our children, for all near and dear to us, and for all Israel. +Amen, Selah!" + + + + +FISHEL THE TEACHER + + +Twice a year, as sure as the clock, on the first day of Nisan and the +first of Ellul--for Passover and Tabernacles--Fishel the teacher +travelled from Balta to Chaschtschevate, home to his wife and children. +It was decreed that nearly all his life long he should be the guest of +his own family, a very welcome guest, but a passing one. He came with +the festival, and no sooner was it over, than back with him to Balta, +back to the schooling, the ruler, the Gemoreh, the dull, thick wits, to +the being knocked about from pillar to post, to the wandering among +strangers, and the longing for home. + +On the other hand, when Fishel _does_ come home, he is an emperor! His +wife Bath-sheba comes out to meet him, pulls at her head-kerchief, +blushes red as fire, questions as though in asides, without as yet +looking him in the face, "How are you?" and he replies, "How are _you_?" +and Froike his son, a boy of thirteen or so, greets him, and the father +asks, "Well, Efroim, and how far on are you in the Gemoreh?" and his +little daughter Resele, not at all a bad-looking little girl, with a +plaited pigtail, hugs and kisses him. + +"Tate, what sort of present have you brought me?" + +"Printed calico for a frock, and a silk kerchief for mother. There--give +mother the kerchief!" + +And Fishel takes a silk (suppose a half-silk!) kerchief out of his +Tallis-bag, and Bath-sheba grows redder still, and pulls her head-cloth +over her eyes, takes up a bit of household work, busies herself all over +the place, and ends by doing nothing. + +"Bring the Gemoreh, Efroim, and let me hear what you can do!" + +And Froike recites his lesson like the bright boy he is, and Fishel +listens and corrects, and his heart expands and overflows with delight, +his soul rejoices--a bright boy, Froike, a treasure! + +"If you want to go to the bath, there is a shirt ready for you!" + +Thus Bath-sheba as she passes him, still not venturing to look him in +the face, and Fishel has a sensation of unspeakable comfort, he feels +like a man escaped from prison and back in a lightsome world, among +those who are near and dear to him. And he sees in fancy a very, very +hot bath-house, and himself lying on the highest bench with other Jews, +and he perspires and swishes himself with the birch twigs, and can never +have enough. + +Home from the bath, fresh and lively as a fish, like one newborn, he +rehearses the portion of the Law for the festival, puts on the Sabbath +cloak and the new girdle, steals a glance at Bath-sheba in her new dress +and silk kerchief--still a pretty woman, and so pious and good!--and +goes with Froike to the Shool. The air is full of Sholom Alechems, +"Welcome, Reb Fishel the teacher, and what are you about?"--"A teacher +teaches!"--"What is the news?"--"What should it be? The world is the +world!"--"What is going on in Balta?"--"Balta is Balta." + +The same formula is repeated every time, every half-year, and Nissel the +reader begins to recite the evening prayers, and sends forth his voice, +the further the louder, and when he comes to "And Moses declared the +set feasts of the Lord unto the children of Israel," it reaches nearly +to Heaven. And Froike stands at his father's side, and recites the +prayers melodiously, and once more Fishel's heart expands and flows over +with joy--a good child, Froike, a good, pious child! + +"A happy holiday, a happy holiday!" + +"A happy holiday, a happy year!" + +At home they find the Passover table spread: the four cups, the bitter +herbs, the almond and apple paste, and all the rest of it. The +reclining-seats (two small benches with big cushions) stand ready, and +Fishel becomes a king. Fishel, robed in white, sits on the throne of his +dominion, Bath-sheba, the queen, sits beside him in her new silk +kerchief; Efroim, the prince, in a new cap, and the princess Resele with +her plait, sit opposite them. Look on with respect! His majesty Fishel +is seated on his throne, and has assumed the sway of his kingdom. + + * * * * * + +The Chaschtschevate scamps, who love to make game of the whole world, +not to mention a teacher, maintain that one Passover Eve our Fishel sent +his Bath-sheba the following Russian telegram: "Rebyàta sobral dyèngi +vezù prigatovi npiyèdu tzàrstvovàtz," which means: "Have entered my +pupils for the next term, am bringing money, prepare the dumplings, I +come to reign." The mischief-makers declare that this telegram was +seized at Balta station, that Bath-sheba was sought and not found, and +that Fishel was sent home with the étape. Dreadful! But I can assure +you, there isn't a word of truth in the story, because Fishel never +sent a telegram in his life, nobody was ever seen looking for +Bath-sheba, and Fishel was never taken anywhere by the étape. That is, +he _was_ once taken somewhere by the étape, but not on account of a +telegram, only on account of a simple passport! And not from Balta, but +from Yehupetz, and not at Passover, but in summer-time. He wished, you +see, to go to Yehupetz in search of a post as teacher, and forgot his +passport. He thought it was in Balta, and he got into a nice mess, and +forbade his children and children's children ever to go in search of +pupils in Yehupetz. + +Since then he teaches in Balta, and comes home for Passover, winds up +his work a fortnight earlier, and sometimes manages to hasten back in +time for the Great Sabbath. Hasten, did I say? That means when the road +_is_ a road, when you can hire a conveyance, and when the Bug can either +be crossed on the ice or in the ferry-boat. But when, for instance, the +snow has begun to melt, and the mud is deep, when there is no conveyance +to be had, when the Bug has begun to split the ice, and the ferry-boat +has not started running, when a skiff means peril of death, and the +festival is upon you--what then? It is just "nit güt." + +Fishel the teacher knows the taste of "nit güt." He has had many +adventures and mishaps since he became a teacher, and took to faring +from Chaschtschevate to Balta and from Balta to Chaschtschevate. He has +tried going more than half-way on foot, and helped to push the +conveyance besides. He has lain in the mud with a priest, the priest on +top, and he below. He has fled before a pack of wolves who were +pursuing the vehicle, and afterwards they turned out to be dogs, and not +wolves at all. But anything like the trouble on this Passover Eve had +never befallen him before. + +The trouble came from the Bug, that is, from the Bug's breaking through +the ice, and just having its fling when Fishel reached it in a hurry to +get home, and really in a hurry, because it was already Friday and +Passover Eve, that is, Passover eve fell on a Sabbath that year. + +Fishel reached the Bug in a Gentile conveyance Thursday evening. +According to his own reckoning, he should have got there Tuesday +morning, because he left Balta Sunday after market, the spirit having +moved him to go into the market-place to spy after a chance conveyance. +How much better it would have been to drive with Yainkel-Shegetz, a +Balta carrier, even at the cart-tail, with his legs dangling, and shaken +to bits. He would have been home long ago by now, and have forgotten the +discomforts of the journey. But he had wanted a cheaper transit, and it +is an old saying that cheap things cost dear. Yoneh, the tippler, who +procures vehicles in Balta, had said to him: "Take my advice, give two +rubles, and you will ride in Yainkel's wagon like a lord, even if you do +have to sit behind the wagon. Consider, you're playing with fire, the +festival approaches." But as ill-luck would have it, there came along a +familiar Gentile from Chaschtschevate. + +"Eh, Rabbi, you're not wanting a lift to Chaschtschevate?" + +"How much would the fare be?" + +He thought to ask how much, and he never thought to ask if it would take +him home by Passover, because in a week he could have covered the +distance walking behind the cart. + +But as Fishel drove out of the town, he soon began to repent of his +choice, even though the wagon was large, and he sitting in it in +solitary grandeur, like any count. He saw that with a horse that dragged +itself along in _that_ way, there would be no getting far, for they +drove a whole day without getting anywhere in particular, and however +much he worried the peasant to know if it were a long way yet, the only +reply he got was, "Who can tell?" In the evening, with a rumble and a +shout and a crack of the whip, there came up with them Yainkel-Shegetz +and his four fiery horses jingling with bells, and the large coach +packed with passengers before and behind. Yainkel, catching sight of the +teacher in the peasant's cart, gave another loud crack with his whip, +ridiculed the peasant, his passenger, and his horse, as only +Yainkel-Shegetz knows how, and when a little way off, he turned and +pointed at one of the peasant's wheels. + +"Hallo, man, look out! There's a wheel turning!" + +The peasant stopped the horse, and he and the teacher clambered down +together, and examined the wheels. They crawled underneath the cart, and +found nothing wrong, nothing at all. + +When the peasant understood that Yainkel had made a fool of him, he +scratched the back of his neck below his collar, and began to abuse +Yainkel and all Jews with curses such as Fishel had never heard before. +His voice and his anger rose together: + +"May you never know good! May you have a bad year! May you not see the +end of it! Bad luck to you, you and your horses and your wife and your +daughter and your aunts and your uncles and your parents-in-law and--and +all your cursed Jews!" + +It was a long time before the peasant took his seat again, nor did he +cease to fume against Yainkel the driver and all Jews, until, with God's +help, they reached a village wherein to spend the night. + +Next morning Fishel rose with the dawn, recited his prayers, a portion +of the Law, and a few Psalms, breakfasted on a roll, and was ready to +set forward. Unfortunately, Chfedor (this was the name of his driver) +was _not_ ready. Chfedor had sat up late with a crony and got drunk, and +he slept through a whole day and a bit of the night, and then only +started on his way. + +"Well," Fishel reproved him as they sat in the cart, "well, Chfedor, a +nice way to behave, upon my word! Do you suppose I engaged you for a +merrymaking? What have you to say for yourself, I should like to know, +eh?" + +And Fishel addressed other reproachful words to him, and never ceased +casting the other's laziness between his teeth, partly in Polish, partly +in Hebrew, and helping himself out with his hands. Chfedor understood +quite well what Fishel meant, but he answered him not a word, not a +syllable even. No doubt he felt that Fishel was in the right, and he was +silent as a cat, till, on the fourth day, they met Yainkel-Shegetz, +driving back from Chaschtschevate with a rumble and a crack of his +whip, who called out to them, "You may as well turn back to Balta, the +Bug has burst the ice." + +Fishel's heart was like to burst, too, but Chfedor, who thought that +Yainkel was trying to fool him a second time, started repeating his +whole list of curses, called down all bad dreams on Yainkel's hands and +feet, and never shut his mouth till they came to the Bug on Thursday +evening. They drove straight to Prokop Baranyùk, the ferryman, to +inquire when the ferry-boat would begin to run, and the two Gentiles, +Chfedor and Prokop, took to sipping brandy, while Fishel proceeded to +recite the Afternoon Prayer. + + * * * * * + +The sun was about to set, and poured a rosy light onto the high hills +that stood on either side of the river, and were snow-covered in parts +and already green in others, and intersected by rivulets that wound +their way with murmuring noise down into the river, where the water +foamed with the broken ice and the increasing thaw. The whole of +Chaschtschevate lay before him as on a plate, while the top of the +monastery sparkled like a light in the setting sun. Standing to recite +the Eighteen Benedictions, with his face towards Chaschtschevate, Fishel +turned his eyes away and drove out the idle thoughts and images that had +crept into his head: Bath-sheba with the new silk kerchief, Froike with +the Gemoreh, Resele with her plait, the hot bath and the highest bench, +and freshly-baked Matzes, together with nice peppered fish and +horseradish that goes up your nose, Passover borshtsh with more Matzes, +a heavenly mixture, and all the other good things that desire is +capable of conjuring up--and however often he drove these fancies away, +they returned and crept back into his brain like summer flies, and +disturbed him at his prayers. + +When Fishel had repeated the Eighteen Benedictions and Olenu, he betook +him to Prokop, and entered into conversation with him about the +ferry-boat and the festival eve, giving him to understand, partly in +Polish and partly in Hebrew and partly with his hands, what Passover +meant to the Jews, and Passover Eve falling on a Sabbath, and that if, +which Heaven forbid, he had not crossed the Bug by that time to-morrow, +he was a lost man, for, beside the fact that they were on the lookout +for him at home--his wife and children (Fishel gave a sigh that rent the +heart)--he would not be able to eat or drink for a week, and Fishel +turned away, so that the tears in his eyes should not be seen. + +Prokop Baranyùk quite appreciated Fishel's position, and replied that he +knew to-morrow was a Jewish festival, and even how it was called; he +even knew that the Jews celebrated it by drinking wine and strong +brandy; he even knew that there was yet another festival at which the +Jews drank brandy, and a third when all Jews were obliged to get drunk, +but he had forgotten its name-- + +"Well and good," Fishel interrupted him in a lamentable voice, "but what +is to happen? How if I don't get there?" + +To this Prokop made no reply. He merely pointed with his hand to the +river, as much as to say, "See for yourself!" + +And Fishel lifted up his eyes to the river, and saw that which he had +never seen before, and heard that which he had never heard in his life. +Because you may say that Fishel had never yet taken in anything "out of +doors," he had only perceived it accidentally, by the way, as he hurried +from Cheder to the house-of-study, and from the house-of-study to +Cheder. The beautiful blue Bug between the two lines of imposing hills, +the murmur of the winding rivulets as they poured down the hillsides, +the roar of the ever-deepening spring-flow, the light of the setting +sun, the glittering cupola of the convent, the wholesome smell of +Passover-Eve-tide out of doors, and, above all, the being so close to +home and not able to get there--all these things lent wings, as it were, +to Fishel's spirit, and he was borne into a new world, the world of +imagination, and crossing the Bug seemed the merest trifle, if only the +Almighty were willing to perform a fraction of a miracle on his behalf. + +Such and like thoughts floated in and out of Fishel's head, and lifted +him into the air, and so far across the river, he never realized that it +was night, and the stars came out, and a cool wind blew in under his +cloak to his little prayer-scarf, and Fishel was busy with things that +he had never so much as dreamt of: earthly things and Heavenly things, +the great size of the beautiful world, the Almighty as Creator of the +earth, and so on. + +Fishel spent a bad night in Prokop's house--such a night as he hoped +never to spend again. The next morning broke with a smile from the +bright and cheerful sun. It was a singularly fine day, and so sweetly +warm that all the snow left melted into kasha, and the kasha, into +water, and this water poured into the Bug from all sides; and the Bug +became clearer, light blue, full and smooth, and the large bits of ice +that looked like dreadful wild beasts, like white elephants hurrying and +tearing along as if they were afraid of being late, grew rarer. + +Fishel the teacher recited the Morning Prayer, breakfasted on the last +piece of leavened bread left in his prayer-scarf bag, and went out to +the river to see about the ferry. Imagine his feelings when he heard +that the ferry-boat would not begin running before Sunday afternoon! He +clapped both hands to his head, gesticulated with every limb, and fell +to abusing Prokop. Why had he given him hopes of the ferry-boat's +crossing next day? Whereupon Prokop answered quite coolly that he had +said nothing about crossing with the ferry, he was talking of taking him +across in a small boat! And that he could still do, if Fishel wished, in +a sail-boat, in a rowboat, in a raft, and the fare was not less than one +ruble. + +"A raft, a rowboat, anything you like, only don't let me spend the +festival away from home!" + +Thus Fishel, and he was prepared to give him two rubles then and there, +to give his life for the holy festival, and he began to drive Prokop +into getting out the raft at once, and taking him across in the +direction of Chaschtschevate, where Bath-sheba, Froike, and Resele are +already looking out for him. It may be they are standing on the opposite +hills, that they see him, and make signs to him, waving their hands, +that they call to him, only one can neither see them nor hear their +voices, because the river is wide, dreadfully wide, wider than ever! + +The sun was already half-way up the deep, blue sky, when Prokop told +Fishel to get into the little trough of a boat, and when Fishel heard +him, he lost all power in his feet and hands, and was at a loss what to +do, for never in his life had he been in a rowboat, never in his life +had he been in any small boat. And it seemed to him the thing had only +to dip a little to one side, and all would be over. + +"Jump in, and off we'll go!" said Prokop once more, and with a turn of +his oar he brought the boat still closer in, and took Fishel's bundle +out of his hands. + +Fishel the teacher drew his coat-skirts neatly together, and began to +perform circles without moving from the spot, hesitating whether to jump +or not. On the one hand were Passover Eve, Bath-sheba, Froike, Resele, +the bath, the home service, himself as king; on the other, peril of +death, the Destroying Angel, suicide--because one dip and--good-by, +Fishel, peace be upon him! + +And Fishel remained circling there with his folded skirts, till Prokop +lost patience and said, another minute, and he should set out and be off +to Chaschtschevate without him. At the beloved word "Chaschtschevate," +Fishel called his dear ones to mind, summoned the whole of his courage, +and fell into the boat. I say "fell in," because the instant his foot +touched the bottom of the boat, it slipped, and Fishel, thinking he was +falling, drew back, and this drawing back sent him headlong forward into +the boat-bottom, where he lay stretched out for some minutes before +recovering his wits, and for a long time after his face was livid, and +his hands shook, while his heart beat like a clock, tik-tik-tak, +tik-tik-tak! + +Prokop meantime sat in the prow as though he were at home. He spit into +his hands, gave a stroke with the oar to the left, a stroke to the +right, and the boat glided over the shining water, and Fishel's head +spun round as he sat. As he sat? No, he hung floating, suspended in the +air! One false movement, and that which held him would give way; one +lean to the side, and he would be in the water and done with! At this +thought, the words came into his mind, "And they sank like lead in the +mighty waters," and his hair stood on end at the idea of such a death. +How? Not even to be buried with the dead of Israel? And he bethought +himself to make a vow to--to do what? To give money in charity? He had +none to give--he was a very, very poor man! So he vowed that if God +would bring him home in safety, he would sit up whole nights and study, +go through the whole of the Talmud in one year, God willing, with God's +help. + +Fishel would dearly have liked to know if it were much further to the +other side, and found himself seated, as though on purpose, with his +face to Prokop and his back to Chaschtschevate. And he dared not open +his mouth to ask. It seemed to him that his very voice would cause the +boat to rock, and one rock--good-by, Fishel! But Prokop opened his mouth +of his own accord, and began to speak. He said there was nothing worse +when you were on the water than a thaw. It made it impossible, he said, +to row straight ahead; one had to adapt one's course to the ice, to row +round and round and backwards. + +"There's a bit of ice making straight for us now." + +Thus Prokop, and he pulled back and let pass a regular ice-floe, which +swam by with a singular rocking motion and a sound that Fishel had never +seen or heard before. And then he began to understand what a wild +adventure this journey was, and he would have given goodness knows what +to be safe on shore, even on the one they had left. + +"O, you see that?" asked Prokop, and pointed upstream. + +Fishel raised his eyes slowly, was afraid of moving much, and looked and +looked, and saw nothing but water, water, and water. + +"There's a big one coming down on us now, we must make a dash for it, +for it's too late to row back." + +So said Prokop, and rowed away with both hands, and the boat glided and +slid like a fish through the water, and Fishel felt cold in every limb. +He would have liked to question, but was afraid of interfering. However, +again Prokop spoke of himself. + +"If we don't win by a minute, it will be the worse for us." + +Fishel can now no longer contain himself, and asks: + +"How do you mean, the worse?" + +"We shall be done for," says Prokop. + +"Done for?" + +"Done for." + +"How do you mean, done for?" persists Fishel. + +"I mean, it will grind us." + +"Grind us?" + +"Grind us." + +Fishel does not understand what "grind us, grind us" may signify, but it +has a sound of finality, of the next world, about it, and Fishel is +bathed in a cold sweat, and again the words come into his head, "And +they sank like lead in the mighty waters." + +And Prokop, as though to quiet our Fishel's mind, tells him a comforting +story of how, years ago at this time, the Bug broke through the ice, and +the ferry-boat could not be used, and there came to him another person +to be rowed across, an excise official from Uman, quite a person of +distinction, and offered a large sum; and they had the bad luck to meet +two huge pieces of ice, and he rowed to the right, in between the floes, +intending to slip through upwards, and he made an involuntary side +motion with the boat, and they went flop into the water! Fortunately, +he, Prokop, could swim, but the official came to grief, and the +fare-money, too. + +"It was good-by to my fare!" ended Prokop, with a sigh, and Fishel +shuddered, and his tongue dried up, so that he could neither speak nor +utter the slightest sound. + +In the very middle of the river, just as they were rowing along quite +smoothly, Prokop suddenly stopped, and looked--and looked--up the +stream; then he laid down the oars, drew a bottle out of his pocket, +tilted it into his mouth, sipped out of it two or three times, put it +back, and explained to Fishel that he had always to take a few sips of +the "bitter drop," otherwise he felt bad when on the water. And he wiped +his mouth, took the oars in hand again, and said, having crossed +himself three times: + +"Now for a race!" + +A race? With whom? With what? Fishel did not understand, and was afraid +to ask; but again he felt the brush of the Death Angel's wing, for +Prokop had gone down onto his knees, and was rowing with might and main. +Moreover, he said to Fishel, and pointed to the bottom of the boat: + +"Rebbe, lie down!" + +Fishel understood that he was to lie down, and did not need to be told +twice. For now he had seen a whole host of floes coming down upon them, +a world of ice, and he shut his eyes, flung himself face downwards in +the boat, and lay trembling like a lamb, and recited in a low voice, +"Hear, O Israel!" and the Confession, thought on the graves of Israel, +and fancied that now, now he lies in the abyss of the waters, now, now +comes a fish and swallows him, like Jonah the prophet when he fled to +Tarshish, and he remembers Jonah's prayer, and sings softly and with +tears: + +"Affofùni màyyim ad nòfesh--the waters have reached unto my soul; tehòm +yesovèveni--the deep hath covered me!" + +Fishel the teacher sang and wept and thought pitifully of his widowed +wife and his orphaned children, and Prokop rowed for all he was worth, +and sang _his_ little song: + +"O thou maiden with the black lashes!" + +And Prokop felt the same on the water as on dry land, and Fishel's +"Affofùni" and Prokop's "O maiden" blended into one, and a strange song +sounded over the Bug, a kind of duet, which had never been heard there +before. + +"The black year knows why he is so afraid of death, that Jew," so +wondered Prokop Baranyùk, "a poor tattered little Jew like him, a +creature I would not give this old boat for, and so afraid of death!" + +The shore reached, Prokop gave Fishel a shove in the side with his boot, +and Fishel started. The Gentile burst out laughing, but Fishel did not +hear, Fishel went on reciting the Confession, saying Kaddish for his own +soul, and mentally contemplating the graves of Israel! + +"Get up, you silly Rebbe! We're there--in Chaschtschevate!" + +Slowly, slowly, Fishel raised his head, and gazed around him with red +and swollen eyes. + +"Chasch-tsche-va-te???" + +"Chaschtschevate! Give me the ruble, Rebbe!" + +Fishel crawls out of the boat, and, finding himself really at home, does +not know what to do for joy. Shall he run into the town? Shall he go +dancing? Shall he first thank and praise God who has brought him safe +out of such great peril? He pays the Gentile his fare, takes up his +bundle under his arm and is about to run home, the quicker the better, +but he pauses a moment first, and turns to Prokop the ferryman: + +"Listen, Prokop, dear heart, to-morrow, please God, you'll come and +drink a glass of brandy, and taste festival fish at Fishel the +teacher's, for Heaven's sake!" + +"Shall I say no? Am I such a fool?" replied Prokop, licking his lips in +anticipation at the thought of the Passover brandy he would sip, and the +festival fish he would delectate himself with on the morrow. + +And Prokop gets back into his boat, and pulls quietly home again, +singing a little song, and pitying the poor Jew who was so afraid of +death. "The Jewish faith is the same as the Mahommedan!" and it seems to +him a very foolish one. And Fishel is thinking almost the same thing, +and pities the Gentile on account of _his_ religion. "What knows he, yon +poor Gentile, of such holy promises as were made to us Jews, the beloved +people!" + +And Fishel the teacher hastens uphill, through the Chaschtschevate mud. +He perspires with the exertion, and yet he does not feel the ground +beneath his feet. He flies, he floats, he is going home, home to his +dear ones, who are on the watch for him as for Messiah, who look for him +to return in health, to seat himself upon his kingly throne and reign. + +Look, Jews, and turn respectfully aside! Fishel the teacher has come +home to Chaschtschevate, and seated himself upon the throne of his +kingdom! + + + + +AN EASY FAST + + +That which Doctor Tanner failed to accomplish, was effectually carried +out by Chayyim Chaikin, a simple Jew in a small town in Poland. + +Doctor Tanner wished to show that a man can fast forty days, and he only +managed to get through twenty-eight, no more, and that with people +pouring spoonfuls of water into his mouth, and giving him morsels of ice +to swallow, and holding his pulse--a whole business! Chayyim Chaikin has +proved that one can fast more than forty days; not, as a rule, two +together, one after the other, but forty days, if not more, in the +course of a year. + +To fast is all he asks! + +Who said drops of water? Who said ice? Not for him! To fast means no +food and no drink from one set time to the other, a real +four-and-twenty-hours. + +And no doctors sit beside him and hold his pulse, whispering, "Hush! Be +quiet!" + +Well, let us hear the tale! + +Chayyim Chaikin is a very poor man, encumbered with many children, and +they, the children, support him. + +They are mostly girls, and they work in a factory and make cigarette +wrappers, and they earn, some one gulden, others half a gulden, a day, +and that not every day. How about Sabbaths and festivals and "shtreik" +days? One should thank God for everything, even in their out-of-the-way +little town strikes are all the fashion! + +And out of that they have to pay rent--for a damp corner in a basement. + +To buy clothes and shoes for the lot of them! They have a dress each, +but they are two to every pair of shoes. + +And then food--such as it is! A bit of bread smeared with an onion, +sometimes groats, occasionally there is a bit of taran that burns your +heart out, so that after eating it for supper, you can drink a whole +night. + +When it comes to eating, the bread has to be portioned out like cake. + +"Oi, dos Essen, dos Essen seiers!" + +Thus Chaike, Chayyim Chaikin's wife, a poor, sick creature, who coughs +all night long. + +"No evil eye," says the father, and he looks at his children devouring +whole slices of bread, and would dearly like to take a mouthful himself, +only, if he does so, the two little ones, Fradke and Beilke, will go +supperless. + +And he cuts his portion of bread in two, and gives it to the little +ones, Fradke and Beilke. + +Fradke and Beilke stretch out their little thin, black hands, look into +their father's eyes, and don't believe him: perhaps he is joking? +Children are nashers, they play with father's piece of bread, till at +last they begin taking bites out of it. The mother sees and exclaims, +coughing all the while: + +"It is nothing but eating and stuffing!" + +The father cannot bear to hear it, and is about to answer her, but he +keeps silent--he can't say anything, it is not for him to speak! Who is +he in the house? A broken potsherd, the last and least, no good to +anyone, no good to them, no good to himself. + +Because the fact is he does nothing, absolutely nothing; not because he +won't do anything, or because it doesn't befit him, but because there is +nothing to do--and there's an end of it! The whole townlet complains of +there being nothing to do! It is just a crowd of Jews driven together. +Delightful! They're packed like herrings in a barrel, they squeeze each +other close, all for love. + +"Well-a-day!" thinks Chaikin, "it's something to have children, other +people haven't even that. But to depend on one's children is quite +another thing and not a happy one!" Not that they grudge him his +keep--Heaven forbid! But he cannot take it from them, he really cannot! + +He knows how hard they work, he knows how the strength is wrung out of +them to the last drop, he knows it well! + +Every morsel of bread is a bit of their health and strength--he drinks +his children's blood! No, the thought is too dreadful! + +"Tatinke, why don't you eat?" ask the children. + +"To-day is a fast day with me," answers Chayyim Chaikin. + +"Another fast? How many fasts have you?" + +"Not so many as there are days in the week." + +And Chayyim Chaikin speaks the truth when he says that he has many +fasts, and yet there are days on which he eats. + +But he likes the days on which he fasts better. + +First, they are pleasing to God, and it means a little bit more of the +world-to-come, the interest grows, and the capital grows with it. + +"Secondly" (he thinks), "no money is wasted on me. Of course, I am +accountable to no one, and nobody ever questions me as to how I spend +it, but what do I want money for, when I can get along without it? + +"And what is the good of feeling one's self a little higher than a +beast? A beast eats every day, but I can go without food for one or two +days. A man _should_ be above a beast! + +"O, if a man could only raise himself to a level where he could live +without eating at all! But there are one's confounded insides!" So +thinks Chayyim Chaikin, for hunger has made a philosopher of him. + +"The insides, the necessity of eating, these are the causes of the +world's evil! The insides and the necessity of eating have made a pauper +of me, and drive my children to toil in the sweat of their brow and risk +their lives for a bit of bread! + +"Suppose a man had no need to eat! Ai--ai--ai! My children would all +stay at home! An end to toil, an end to moil, an end to 'shtreikeven,' +an end to the risking of life, an end to factory and factory owners, to +rich men and paupers, an end to jealousy and hatred and fighting and +shedding of blood! All gone and done with! Gone and done with! A +paradise! a paradise!" + +So reasons Chayyim Chaikin, and, lost in speculation, he pities the +world, and is grieved to the heart to think that God should have made +man so little above the beast. + + * * * * * + +The day on which Chayyim Chaikin fasts is, as I told you, his best day, +and a _real_ fast day, like the Ninth of Ab, for instance--he is ashamed +to confess it--is a festival for him! + +You see, it means not to eat, not to be a beast, not to be guilty of the +children's blood, to earn the reward of a Mitzveh, and to weep to +heart's content on the ruins of the Temple. + +For how can one weep when one is full? How can a full man grieve? Only +he can grieve whose soul is faint within him! The good year knows how +some folk answer it to their conscience, giving in to their +insides--afraid of fasting! Buy them a groschen worth of oats, for +charity's sake! + +Thus would Chayyim Chaikin scorn those who bought themselves off the +fast, and dropped a hard coin into the collecting box. + +The Ninth of Ab is the hardest fast of all--so the world has it. + +Chayyim Chaikin cannot see why. The day is long, is it? Then the night +is all the shorter. It's hot out of doors, is it? Who asks you to go +loitering about in the sun? Sit in the Shool and recite the prayers, of +which, thank God, there are plenty. + +"I tell you," persists Chayyim Chaikin, "that the Ninth of Ab is the +easiest of the fasts, because it is the best, the very best! + +"For instance, take the Day of Atonement fast! It is written, 'And you +shall mortify your bodies.' What for? To get a clean bill and a good +year. + +"It doesn't say that you are to fast on the Ninth of Ab, but you fast of +your own accord, because how could you eat on the day when the Temple +was wrecked, and Jews were killed, women ripped up, and children dashed +to pieces? + +"It doesn't say that you are to weep on the Ninth of Ab, but you _do_ +weep. How could anyone restrain his tears when he thinks of what we lost +that day?" + +"The pity is, there should be only one Ninth of Ab!" says Chayyim +Chaikin. + +"Well, and the Seventeenth of Tammuz!" suggests some one. + +"And there is only one Seventeenth of Tammuz!" answers Chayyim Chaikin, +with a sigh. + +"Well, and the Fast of Gedaliah? and the Fast of Esther?" continues the +same person. + +"Only one of each!" and Chayyim Chaikin sighs again. + +"Ê, Reb Chayyim, you are greedy for fasts, are you?" + +"More fasts, more fasts!" says Chayyim Chaikin, and he takes upon +himself to fast on the eve of the Ninth of Ab as well, two days at a +stretch. + +What do you think of fasting two days in succession? Isn't that a treat? +It is hard enough to have to break one's fast after the Ninth of Ab, +without eating on the eve thereof as well. + +One forgets that one _has_ insides, that such a thing exists as the +necessity to eat, and one is free of the habit that drags one down to +the level of the beast. + +The difficulty lies in the drinking! I mean, in the _not_ drinking. "If +I" (thinks Chayyim Chaikin) "allowed myself one glass of water a day, I +could fast a whole week till Sabbath." + +You think I say that for fun? Not at all! Chayyim Chaikin is a man of +his word. When he says a thing, it's said and done! The whole week +preceding the Ninth of Ab he ate nothing, he lived on water. + +Who should notice? His wife, poor thing, is sick, the elder children are +out all day in the factory, and the younger ones do not understand. +Fradke and Beilke only know when they are hungry (and they are always +hungry), the heart yearns within them, and they want to eat. + +"To-day you shall have an extra piece of bread," says the father, and +cuts his own in two, and Fradke and Beilke stretch out their dirty +little hands for it, and are overjoyed. + +"Tatinke, you are not eating," remark the elder girls at supper, "this +is not a fast day!" + +"And no more _do_ I fast!" replies the father, and thinks: "That was a +take-in, but not a lie, because, after all, a glass of water--that is +not eating and not fasting, either." + +When it comes to the eve of the Ninth of Ab, Chayyim feels so light and +airy as he never felt before, not because it is time to prepare for the +fast by taking a meal, not because he may eat. On the contrary, he feels +that if he took anything solid into his mouth, it would not go down, but +stick in his throat. + +That is, his heart is very sick, and his hands and feet shake; his body +is attracted earthwards, his strength fails, he feels like fainting. +But fie, what an idea! To fast a whole week, to arrive at the eve of the +Ninth of Ab, and not hold out to the end! Never! + +And Chayyim Chaikin takes his portion of bread and potato, calls Fradke +and Beilke, and whispers: + +"Children, take this and eat it, but don't let Mother see!" + +And Fradke and Beilke take their father's share of food, and look +wonderingly at his livid face and shaking hands. + +Chayyim sees the children snatch at the bread and munch and swallow, and +he shuts his eyes, and rises from his place. He cannot wait for the +other girls to come home from the factory, but takes his book of +Lamentations, puts off his shoes, and drags himself--it is all he can +do--to the Shool. + +He is nearly the first to arrive. He secures a seat next the reader, on +an overturned bench, lying with its feet in the air, and provides +himself with a bit of burned-down candle, which he glues with its +drippings to the foot of the bench, leans against the corner of the +platform, opens his book, "Lament for Zion and all the other towns," and +he closes his eyes and sees Zion robed in black, with a black veil over +her face, lamenting and weeping and wringing her hands, mourning for her +children who fall daily, daily, in foreign lands, for other men's sins. + + "And wilt not thou, O Zion, ask of me + Some tidings of the children from thee reft? + I bring thee greetings over land and sea, + From those remaining--from the remnant left!----" + +And he opens his eyes and sees: + +A bright sunbeam has darted in through the dull, dusty window-pane, a +beam of the sun which is setting yonder behind the town. And though he +shuts them again, he still sees the beam, and not only the beam, but the +whole sun, the bright, beautiful sun, and no one can see it but him! +Chayyim Chaikin looks at the sun and sees it--and that's all! How is it? +It must be because he has done with the world and its necessities--he +feels happy--he feels light--he can bear anything--he will have an easy +fast--do you know, he will have an easy fast, an easy fast! + +Chayyim Chaikin shuts his eyes, and sees a strange world, a new world, +such as he never saw before. Angels seem to hover before his eyes, and +he looks at them, and recognizes his children in them, all his children, +big and little, and he wants to say something to them, and cannot +speak--he wants to explain to them, that he cannot help it--it is not +his fault! How should it, no evil eye! be his fault, that so many Jews +are gathered together in one place and squeeze each other, all for love, +squeeze each other to death for love? How can he help it, if people +desire other people's sweat, other people's blood? if people have not +learned to see that one should not drive a man as a horse is driven to +work? that a horse is also to be pitied, one of God's creatures, a +living thing?---- + +And Chayyim Chaikin keeps his eyes shut, and sees, sees everything. And +everything is bright and light, and curls like smoke, and he feels +something is going out of him, from inside, from his heart, and is drawn +upward and loses itself from the body, and he feels very light, very, +very light, and he gives a sigh--a long, deep sigh--and feels still +lighter, and after that he feels nothing at all--absolutely nothing at +all-- + +Yes, he has an easy fast. + + * * * * * + +When Bäre the beadle, a red-haired Jew with thick lips, came into the +Shool in his socks with the worn-down heels, and saw Chayyim Chaikin +leaning with his head back, and his eyes open, he was angry, thought +Chayyim was dozing, and he began to grumble: + +"He ought to be ashamed of himself--reclining like that--came here for a +nap, did he?--Reb Chayyim, excuse me, Reb Chayyim!----" + +But Chayyim Chaikin did not hear him. + + * * * * * + +The last rays of the sun streamed in through the Shool window, right +onto Chayyim Chaikin's quiet face with the black, shining, curly hair, +the black, bushy brows, the half-open, black, kindly eyes, and lit the +dead, pale, still, hungry face through and through. + + * * * * * + +I told you how it would be: Chayyim Chaikin had an easy fast! + + + + +THE PASSOVER GUEST + +I + + +"I have a Passover guest for you, Reb Yoneh, such a guest as you never +had since you became a householder." + +"What sort is he?" + +"A real Oriental citron!" + +"What does that mean?" + +"It means a 'silken Jew,' a personage of distinction. The only thing +against him is--he doesn't speak our language." + +"What does he speak, then?" + +"Hebrew." + +"Is he from Jerusalem?" + +"I don't know where he comes from, but his words are full of a's." + +Such was the conversation that took place between my father and the +beadle, a day before Passover, and I was wild with curiosity to see the +"guest" who didn't understand Yiddish, and who talked with a's. I had +already noticed, in synagogue, a strange-looking individual, in a fur +cap, and a Turkish robe striped blue, red, and yellow. We boys crowded +round him on all sides, and stared, and then caught it hot from the +beadle, who said children had no business "to creep into a stranger's +face" like that. Prayers over, everyone greeted the stranger, and wished +him a happy Passover, and he, with a sweet smile on his red cheeks set +in a round grey beard, replied to each one, "Shalom! Shalom!" instead of +our Sholom. This "Shalom! Shalom!" of his sent us boys into fits of +laughter. The beadle grew very angry, and pursued us with slaps. We +eluded him, and stole deviously back to the stranger, listened to his +"Shalom! Shalom!" exploded with laughter, and escaped anew from the +hands of the beadle. + +I am puffed up with pride as I follow my father and his guest to our +house, and feel how all my comrades envy me. They stand looking after +us, and every now and then I turn my head, and put out my tongue at +them. The walk home is silent. When we arrive, my father greets my +mother with "a happy Passover!" and the guest nods his head so that his +fur cap shakes. "Shalom! Shalom!" he says. I think of my comrades, and +hide my head under the table, not to burst out laughing. But I shoot +continual glances at the guest, and his appearance pleases me; I like +his Turkish robe, striped yellow, red, and blue, his fresh, red cheeks +set in a curly grey beard, his beautiful black eyes that look out so +pleasantly from beneath his bushy eyebrows. And I see that my father is +pleased with him, too, that he is delighted with him. My mother looks at +him as though he were something more than a man, and no one speaks to +him but my father, who offers him the cushioned reclining-seat at table. + +Mother is taken up with the preparations for the Passover meal, and +Rikel the maid is helping her. It is only when the time comes for saying +Kiddush that my father and the guest hold a Hebrew conversation. I am +proud to find that I understand nearly every word of it. Here it is in +full. + +My father: "Nu?" (That means, "Won't you please say Kiddush?") + +The guest: "Nu-nu!" (meaning, "Say it rather yourself!") + +My father: "Nu-O?" ("Why not you?") + +The guest: "O-nu?" ("Why should I?") + +My father: "I-O!" ("_You_ first!") + +The guest: "O-ai!" ("You first!") + +My father: "È-o-i!" ("I beg of you to say it!") + +The guest: "Ai-o-ê!" ("I beg of you!") + +My father: "Ai-e-o-nu?" ("Why should you refuse?") + +The guest: "Oi-o-e-nu-nu!" ("If you insist, then I must.") + +And the guest took the cup of wine from my father's hand, and recited a +Kiddush. But what a Kiddush! A Kiddush such as we had never heard +before, and shall never hear again. First, the Hebrew--all a's. +Secondly, the voice, which seemed to come, not out of his beard, but out +of the striped Turkish robe. I thought of my comrades, how they would +have laughed, what slaps would have rained down, had they been present +at that Kiddush. + +Being alone, I was able to contain myself. I asked my father the Four +Questions, and we all recited the Haggadah together. And I was elated to +think that such a guest was ours, and no one else's. + + +II + +Our sage who wrote that one should not talk at meals (may he forgive me +for saying so!) did not know Jewish life. When shall a Jew find time to +talk, if not during a meal? Especially at Passover, when there is so +much to say before the meal and after it. Rikel the maid handed the +water, we washed our hands, repeated the Benediction, mother helped us +to fish, and my father turned up his sleeves, and started a long Hebrew +talk with the guest. He began with the first question one Jew asks +another: + +"What is your name?" + +To which the guest replied all in a's and all in one breath: + +"Ayak Bakar Gashal Damas Hanoch Vassam Za'an Chafaf Tatzatz." + +My father remained with his fork in the air, staring in amazement at the +possessor of so long a name. I coughed and looked under the table, and +my mother said, "Favele, you should be careful eating fish, or you might +be choked with a bone," while she gazed at our guest with awe. She +appeared overcome by his name, although unable to understand it. My +father, who understood, thought it necessary to explain it to her. + +"You see, Ayak Bakar, that is our Alef-Bes inverted. It is apparently +their custom to name people after the alphabet." + +"Alef-Bes! Alef-Bes!" repeated the guest with the sweet smile on his red +cheeks, and his beautiful black eyes rested on us all, including Rikel +the maid, in the most friendly fashion. + +Having learnt his name, my father was anxious to know whence, from what +land, he came. I understood this from the names of countries and towns +which I caught, and from what my father translated for my mother, +giving her a Yiddish version of nearly every phrase. And my mother was +quite overcome by every single thing she heard, and Rikel the maid was +overcome likewise. And no wonder! It is not every day that a person +comes from perhaps two thousand miles away, from a land only to be +reached across seven seas and a desert, the desert journey alone +requiring forty days and nights. And when you get near to the land, you +have to climb a mountain of which the top reaches into the clouds, and +this is covered with ice, and dreadful winds blow there, so that there +is peril of death! But once the mountain is safely climbed, and the land +is reached, one beholds a terrestrial Eden. Spices, cloves, herbs, and +every kind of fruit--apples, pears, and oranges, grapes, dates, and +olives, nuts and quantities of figs. And the houses there are all built +of deal, and roofed with silver, the furniture is gold (here the guest +cast a look at our silver cups, spoons, forks, and knives), and +brilliants, pearls, and diamonds bestrew the roads, and no one cares to +take the trouble of picking them up, they are of no value there. (He was +looking at my mother's diamond ear-rings, and at the pearls round her +white neck.) + +"You hear that?" my father asked her, with a happy face. + +"I hear," she answered, and added: "Why don't they bring some over here? +They could make money by it. Ask him that, Yoneh!" + +My father did so, and translated the answer for my mother's benefit: + +"You see, when you arrive there, you may take what you like, but when +you leave the country, you must leave everything in it behind, too, and +if they shake out of you no matter what, you are done for." + +"What do you mean?" questioned my mother, terrified. + +"I mean, they either hang you on a tree, or they stone you with stones." + + +III + +The more tales our guest told us, the more thrilling they became, and +just as we were finishing the dumplings and taking another sip or two of +wine, my father inquired to whom the country belonged. Was there a king +there? And he was soon translating, with great delight, the following +reply: + +"The country belongs to the Jews who live there, and who are called +Sefardîm. And they have a king, also a Jew, and a very pious one, who +wears a fur cap, and who is called Joseph ben Joseph. He is the high +priest of the Sefardîm, and drives out in a gilded carriage, drawn by +six fiery horses. And when he enters the synagogue, the Levites meet him +with songs." + +"There are Levites who sing in your synagogue?" asked my father, +wondering, and the answer caused his face to shine with joy. + +"What do you think?" he said to my mother. "Our guest tells me that in +his country there is a temple, with priests and Levites and an organ." + +"Well, and an altar?" questioned my mother, and my father told her: + +"He says they have an altar, and sacrifices, he says, and golden +vessels--everything just as we used to have it in Jerusalem." + +And with these words my father sighs deeply, and my mother, as she looks +at him, sighs also, and I cannot understand the reason. Surely we should +be proud and glad to think we have such a land, ruled over by a Jewish +king and high priest, a land with Levites and an organ, with an altar +and sacrifices--and bright, sweet thoughts enfold me, and carry me away +as on wings to that happy Jewish land where the houses are of pine-wood +and roofed with silver, where the furniture is gold, and diamonds and +pearls lie scattered in the street. And I feel sure, were I really +there, I should know what to do--I should know how to hide things--they +would shake nothing out of _me_. I should certainly bring home a lovely +present for my mother, diamond ear-rings and several pearl necklaces. I +look at the one mother is wearing, at her ear-rings, and I feel a great +desire to be in that country. And it occurs to me, that after Passover I +will travel there with our guest, secretly, no one shall know. I will +only speak of it to our guest, open my heart to him, tell him the whole +truth, and beg him to take me there, if only for a little while. He will +certainly do so, he is a very kind and approachable person, he looks at +every one, even at Rikel the maid, in such a friendly, such a very +friendly way! + +"So I think, and it seems to me, as I watch our guest, that he has read +my thoughts, and that his beautiful black eyes say to me: + +"Keep it dark, little friend, wait till after Passover, then we shall +manage it!" + + +IV + +I dreamt all night long. I dreamt of a desert, a temple, a high priest, +and a tall mountain. I climb the mountain. Diamonds and pearls grow on +the trees, and my comrades sit on the boughs, and shake the jewels down +onto the ground, whole showers of them, and I stand and gather them, and +stuff them into my pockets, and, strange to say, however many I stuff +in, there is still room! I stuff and stuff, and still there is room! I +put my hand into my pocket, and draw out--not pearls and brilliants, but +fruits of all kinds--apples, pears, oranges, olives, dates, nuts, and +figs. This makes me very unhappy, and I toss from side to side. Then I +dream of the temple, I hear the priests chant, and the Levites sing, and +the organ play. I want to go inside and I cannot--Rikel the maid has +hold of me, and will not let me go. I beg of her and scream and cry, and +again I am very unhappy, and toss from side to side. I wake--and see my +father and mother standing there, half dressed, both pale, my father +hanging his head, and my mother wringing her hands, and with her soft +eyes full of tears. I feel at once that something has gone very wrong, +very wrong indeed, but my childish head is incapable of imagining the +greatness of the disaster. + +The fact is this: our guest from beyond the desert and the seven seas +has disappeared, and a lot of things have disappeared with him: all the +silver wine-cups, all the silver spoons, knives, and forks; all my +mother's ornaments, all the money that happened to be in the house, and +also Rikel the maid! + +A pang goes through my heart. Not on account of the silver cups, the +silver spoons, knives, and forks that have vanished; not on account of +mother's ornaments or of the money, still less on account of Rikel the +maid, a good riddance! But because of the happy, happy land whose roads +were strewn with brilliants, pearls, and diamonds; because of the temple +with the priests, the Levites, and the organ; because of the altar and +the sacrifices; because of all the other beautiful things that have been +taken from me, taken, taken, taken! + +I turn my face to the wall, and cry quietly to myself. + + + + +GYMNASIYE + + +A man's worst enemy, I tell you, will never do him the harm he does +himself, especially when a woman interferes, that is, a wife. Whom do +you think I have in mind when I say that? My own self! Look at me and +think. What would you take me for? Just an ordinary Jew. It doesn't say +on my nose whether I have money, or not, or whether I am very low +indeed, does it? + +It may be that I once _had_ money, and not only that--money in itself is +nothing--but I can tell you, I earned a living, and that respectably and +quietly, without worry and flurry, not like some people who like to live +in a whirl. + +No, my motto is, "More haste, less speed." + +I traded quietly, went bankrupt a time or two quietly, and quietly went +to work again. But there is a God in the world, and He blessed me with a +wife--as she isn't here, we can speak openly--a wife like any other, +that is, at first glance she isn't so bad--not at all! In person, (no +evil eye!) twice my height; not an ugly woman, quite a beauty, you may +say; an intelligent woman, quite a man--and that's the whole trouble! +Oi, it isn't good when the wife is a man! The Almighty knew what He was +about when, at the creation, he formed Adam first and then Eve. But +what's the use of telling her that, when _she_ says, "If the Almighty +created Adam first and then Eve, that's _His_ affair, but if he put +more sense into my heel than into your head, no more am I to blame for +that!" + +"What is all this about?" say I.--"It's about that which should be first +and foremost with you," says she.--"But I have to be the one to think of +everything--even about sending the boy to the Gymnasiye!"--"Where," say +I, "is it 'written' that my boy should go to the Gymnasiye? Can I not +afford to have him taught Torah at home?"--"I've told you a hundred and +fifty times," says she, "that you won't persuade me to go against the +world! And the world," says she, "has decided that children should go to +the Gymnasiye."--"In my opinion," say I, "the world is mad!"--"And you," +says she, "are the only sane person in it? A pretty thing it would be," +says she, "if the world were to follow you!"--"Every man," say I, +"should decide on his own course."--"If my enemies," says she, "and my +friends' enemies, had as little in pocket and bag, in box and chest, as +you have in your head, the world would be a different place."--"Woe to +the man," say I, "who needs to be advised by his wife!"--"And woe to the +wife," says she, "who has that man to her husband!"--Now if you can +argue with a woman who, when you say one thing, maintains the contrary, +when you give her one word, treats you to a dozen, and who, if you bid +her shut up, cries, or even, I beg of you, faints--well, I envy you, +that's all! In short, up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it--she, not I, because the fact is, when she wants a thing, it +has to be! + +Well, what next? Gymnasiye! The first thing was to prepare the boy for +the elementary class in the Junior Preparatory. I must say, I did not +see anything very alarming in that. It seemed to me that anyone of our +Cheder boys, an Alef-Bes scholar, could tuck it all into his belt, +especially a boy like mine, for whose equal you might search an empire, +and not find him. I am a father, not of you be it said! but that boy has +a memory that beats everything! To cut a long story short, he went up +for examination and--did _not_ pass! You ask the reason? He only got a +two in arithmetic; they said he was weak at calculation, in the science +of mathematics. What do you think of that? He has a memory that beats +everything! I tell you, you might search an empire for his like--and +they come talking to me about mathematics! Well, he failed to pass, and +it vexed me very much. If he _was_ to go up for examination, let him +succeed. However, being a man and not a woman, I made up my mind to +it--it's a misfortune, but a Jew is used to that. Only what was the use +of talking to _her_ with that bee in her bonnet? Once for all, +Gymnasiye! I reason with her. "Tell me," say I, "(may you be well!) what +is the good of it? He's safe," say I, "from military service, being an +only son, and as for Parnosseh, devil I need it for Parnosseh! What do I +care if he _does_ become a trader like his father, a merchant like the +rest of the Jews? If he is destined to become a rich man, a banker, I +don't see that I'm to be pitied." + +Thus do I reason with her as with the wall. "So much the better," says +she, "if he has _not_ been entered for the Junior Preparatory."--"What +now?" say I. + +"Now," says she, "he can go direct to the Senior Preparatory." + +Well, Senior Preparatory, there's nothing so terrible in that, for the +boy has a head, I tell you! You might search an empire.... And what was +the result? Well, what do you suppose? Another two instead of a five, +not in mathematics this time--a fresh calamity! His spelling is not what +it should be. That is, he can spell all right, but he gets a bit mixed +with the two Russian e's. That is, he puts them in right enough, why +shouldn't he? only not in their proper places. Well, there's a +misfortune for you! I guess I won't find the way to Poltava fair if the +child cannot put the e's where they belong! When they brought the good +news, _she_ turned the town inside out; ran to the director, declared +that the boy _could_ do it; to prove it, let him be had up again! They +paid her as much attention as if she were last year's snow, put a two, +and another sort of two, and a two with a dash! Call me nut-crackers, +but there was a commotion. "Failed again!" say I to her. "And if so," +say I, "what is to be done? Are we to commit suicide? A Jew," say I, "is +used to that sort of thing," upon which she fired up and blazed away and +stormed and scolded as only she can. But I let you off! He, poor child, +was in a pitiable state. Talk of cruelty to animals! Just think: the +other boys in little white buttons, and not he! I reason with him: "You +little fool! What does it matter? Who ever heard of an examination at +which everyone passed? Somebody must stay at home, mustn't they? Then +why not you? There's really nothing to make such a fuss about." My wife, +overhearing, goes off into a fresh fury, and falls upon me. "A fine +comforter _you_ are," says she, "who asked you to console him with that +sort of nonsense? You'd better see about getting him a proper teacher," +says she, "a private teacher, a Russian, for grammar!" + +You hear that? Now I must have two teachers for him--one teacher and a +Rebbe are not enough. Up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it, as usual. + +What next? We engaged a second teacher, a Russian this time, not a Jew, +preserve us, but a real Gentile, because grammar in the first class, let +me tell you, is no trifle, no shredded horseradish! Gra-ma-ti-ke, +indeed! The two e's! Well, I was telling about the teacher that God sent +us for our sins. It's enough to make one blush to remember the way he +treated us, as though we had been the mud under his feet. Laughed at us +to our face, he did, devil take him, and the one and only thing he could +teach him was: tshasnok, tshasnoka, tshasnoku, tshasnokom. If it hadn't +been for _her_, I should have had him by the throat, and out into the +street with his blessed grammar. But to _her_ it was all right and as it +should be. Now the boy will know which e to put. If you'll believe me, +they tormented him through that whole winter, for he was not to be had +up for slaughter till about Pentecost. Pentecost over, he went up for +examination, and this time he brought home no more two's, but a four and +a five. There was great joy--we congratulate! we congratulate! Wait a +bit, don't be in such a hurry with your congratulations! We don't know +yet for certain whether he has got in or not. We shall not know till +August. Why not till August? Why not before? Go and ask _them_. What is +to be done? A Jew is used to that sort of thing. + +August--and I gave a glance out of the corner of my eye. She was up and +doing! From the director to the inspector, from the inspector to the +director! "Why are you running from Shmunin to Bunin," say I, "like a +poisoned mouse?" + +"You asking why?" says she. "Aren't you a native of this place? You +don't seem to know how it is nowadays with the Gymnasiyes and the +percentages?" And what came of it? He did _not_ pass! You ask why? +Because he hadn't two fives. If he had had two fives, then, they say, +perhaps he would have got in. You hear--perhaps! How do you like that +_perhaps_? Well, I'll let you off what I had to bear from her. As for +him, the little boy, it was pitiful. Lay with his face in the cushion, +and never stopped crying till we promised him another teacher. And we +got him a student from the Gymnasiye itself, to prepare him for the +second class, but after quite another fashion, because the second class +is no joke. In the second, besides mathematics and grammar, they require +geography, penmanship, and I couldn't for the life of me say what else. +I should have thought a bit of the Maharsho was a more difficult thing +than all their studies put together, and very likely had more sense in +it, too. But what would you have? A Jew learns to put up with things. + +In fine, there commenced a series of "lessons," of ouròkki. We rose +early--the ouròkki! Prayers and breakfast over--the ouròkki. A whole +day--ouròkki. One heard him late at night drumming it over and over: +Nominative--dative--instrumental--vocative! It grated so on my ears! I +could hardly bear it. Eat? Sleep? Not he! Taking a poor creature and +tormenting it like that, all for nothing, I call it cruelty to animals! +"The child," say I, "will be ill!" "Bite off your tongue," says she. I +was nowhere, and he went up a second time to the slaughter, and brought +home nothing but fives! And why not? I tell you, he has a head--there +isn't his like! And such a boy for study as never was, always at it, day +and night, and repeating to himself between whiles! That's all right +then, is it? Was it all right? When it came to the point, and they hung +out the names of all the children who were really entered, we +looked--mine wasn't there! Then there was a screaming and a commotion. +What a shame! And nothing but fives! _Now_ look at her, now see her go, +see her run, see her do this and that! In short, she went and she ran +and she did this and that and the other--until at last they begged her +not to worry them any longer, that is, to tell you the truth, between +ourselves, they turned her out, yes! And after they had turned her out, +then it was she burst into the house, and showed for the first time, as +it were, what she was worth. "Pray," said she, "what sort of a father +are you? If you were a good father, an affectionate father, like other +fathers, you would have found favor with the director, patronage, +recommendations, this--that!" Like a woman, wasn't it? It's not enough, +apparently, for me to have my head full of terms and seasons and fairs +and notes and bills of exchange and "protests" and all the rest of it. +"Do you want me," say I, "to take over your Gymnasiye and your classes, +things I'm sick of already?" Do you suppose she listened to what I said? +She? Listen? She just kept at it, she sawed and filed and gnawed away +like a worm, day and night, day and night! "If your wife," says she, +"_were_ a wife, and your child, a child--if I were only of _so_ much +account in this house!"--"Well," say I, "what would happen?"--"You would +lie," says she, "nine ells deep in the earth. I," says she, "would bury +you three times a day, so that you should never rise again!" + +How do you like that? Kind, wasn't it? That (how goes the saying?) was +pouring a pailful of water over a husband for the sake of peace. Of +course, you'll understand that I was not silent, either, because, after +all, I'm no more than a man, and every man has his feelings. I assure +you, you needn't envy me, and in the end _she_ carried the day, as +usual. + +Well, what next? I began currying favor, getting up an acquaintance, +trying this and that; I had to lower myself in people's eyes and swallow +slights, for every one asked questions, and they had every right to do +so. "You, no evil eye, Reb Aaron," say they, "are a householder, and +inherited a little something from your father. What good year is taking +you about to places where a Jew had better not be seen?" Was I to go and +tell them I had a wife (may she live one hundred and twenty years!) with +this on the brain: Gymnasiye, Gymnasiye, and Gym-na-si-ye? I (much good +may it do you!) am, as you see me, no more unlucky than most people, and +with God's help I made my way, and got where I wanted, right up to the +nobleman, into his cabinet, yes! And sat down with him there to talk it +over. I thank Heaven, I can talk to any nobleman, I don't need to have +my tongue loosened for me. "What can I do for you?" he asks, and bids me +be seated. Say I, and whisper into his ear, "My lord," say I, "we," say +I, "are not rich people, but we have," say I, "a boy, and he wishes to +study, and I," say I, "wish it, too, but my wife wishes it very much!" +Says he to me again, "What is it you want?" Say I to him, and edge a bit +closer, "My dear lord," say I, "we," say I, "are not rich people, but we +have," say I, "a small fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say +I, "wishes to study; and I," say I, "also wish it, but my wife wishes it +_very much_!" and I squeeze that "very much" so that he may understand. +But he's a Gentile and slow-witted, and he doesn't twig, and this time +he asks angrily, "Then, whatever is it you want?!" I quietly put my hand +into my pocket and quietly take it out again, and I say quietly: "Pardon +me, we," say I, "are not rich people, but we have a little," say I, +"fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say I, "wishes to study; +and I," say I, "wish it also, but my wife," say I, "wishes it very much +indeed!" and I take and press into his hand----and this time, yes! he +understood, and went and got a note-book, and asked my name and my son's +name, and which class I wanted him entered for. + +"Oho, lies the wind that way?" think I to myself, and I give him to +understand that I am called Katz, Aaron Katz, and my son, Moisheh, +Moshke we call him, and I want to get him into the third class. Says he +to me, if I am Katz, and my son is Moisheh, Moshke we call him, and he +wants to get into class three, I am to bring him in January, and he will +certainly be passed. You hear and understand? Quite another thing! +Apparently the horse trots as we shoe him. The worst is having to wait. +But what is to be done? When they say, Wait! one waits. A Jew is used to +waiting. + +January--a fresh commotion, a scampering to and fro. To-morrow there +will be a consultation. The director and the inspector and all the +teachers of the Gymnasiye will come together, and it's only after the +consultation that we shall know if he is entered or not. The time for +action has come, and my wife is anywhere but at home. No hot meals, no +samovar, no nothing! She is in the Gymnasiye, that is, not _in_ the +Gymnasiye, but _at_ it, walking round and round it in the frost, from +first thing in the morning, waiting for them to begin coming away from +the consultation. The frost bites, there is a tearing east wind, and she +paces round and round the building, and waits. Once a woman, always a +woman! It seemed to me, that when people have made a promise, it is +surely sacred, especially--you understand? But who would reason with a +woman? Well, she waited one hour, she waited two, waited three, waited +four; the children were all home long ago, and she waited on. She waited +(much good may it do you!) till she got what she was waiting for. A door +opens, and out comes one of the teachers. She springs and seizes hold on +him. Does he know the result of the consultation? Why, says he, should +he not? They have passed altogether twenty-five children, twenty-three +Christian and two Jewish. Says she, "Who are they?" Says he, "One a +Shefselsohn and one a Katz." At the name Katz, my wife shoots home like +an arrow from the bow, and bursts into the room in triumph: "Good news! +good news! Passed, passed!" and there are tears in her eyes. Of course, +I am pleased, too, but I don't feel called upon to go dancing, being a +man and not a woman. "It's evidently not much _you_ care?" says she to +me. "What makes you think that?" say I.--"This," says she, "you sit +there cold as a stone! If you knew how impatient the child is, you would +have taken him long ago to the tailor's, and ordered his little +uniform," says she, "and a cap and a satchel," says she, "and made a +little banquet for our friends."--"Why a banquet, all of a sudden?" say +I. "Is there a Bar-Mitzveh? Is there an engagement?" I say all this +quite quietly, for, after all, I am a man, not a woman. She grew so +angry that she stopped talking. And when a woman stops talking, it's a +thousand times worse than when she scolds, because so long as she is +scolding at least you hear the sound of the human voice. Otherwise it's +talk to the wall! To put it briefly, she got her way--she, not I--as +usual. + +There was a banquet; we invited our friends and our good friends, and my +boy was dressed up from head to foot in a very smart uniform, with white +buttons and a cap with a badge in front, quite the district-governor! +And it did one's heart good to see him, poor child! There was new life +in him, he was so happy, and he shone, I tell you, like the July sun! +The company drank to him, and wished him joy: Might he study in health, +and finish the course in health, and go on in health, till he reached +the university! "Ett!" say I, "we can do with less. Let him only +complete the eight classes at the Gymnasiye," say I, "and, please God, +I'll make a bridegroom of him, with God's help." Cries my wife, smiling +and fixing me with her eye the while, "Tell him," says she, "that he's +wrong! He," says she, "keeps to the old-fashioned cut." "Tell her from +me," say I, "that I'm blest if the old-fashioned cut wasn't better than +the new." Says she, "Tell him that he (may he forgive me!) is----" The +company burst out laughing. "Oi, Reb Aaron," say they, "you have a wife +(no evil eye!) who is a Cossack and not a wife at all!" Meanwhile they +emptied their wine-glasses, and cleared their plates, and we were what +is called "lively." I and my wife were what is called "taken into the +boat," the little one in the middle, and we made merry till daylight. +That morning early we took him to the Gymnasiye. It was very early, +indeed, the door was shut, not a soul to be seen. Standing outside there +in the frost, we were glad enough when the door opened, and they let us +in. Directly after that the small fry began to arrive with their +satchels, and there was a noise and a commotion and a chatter and a +laughing and a scampering to and fro--a regular fair! Schoolboys jumped +over one another, gave each other punches, pokes, and pinches. As I +looked at these young hopefuls with the red cheeks, with the merry, +laughing eyes, I called to mind our former narrow, dark, and gloomy +Cheder of long ago years, and I saw that after all she was right; she +might be a woman, but she had a man's head on her shoulders! And as I +reflected thus, there came along an individual in gilt buttons, who +turned out to be a teacher, and asked what I wanted. I pointed to my +boy, and said I had come to bring him to Cheder, that is, to the +Gymnasiye. He asked to which class? I tell him, the third, and he has +only just been entered. He asks his name. Say I, "Katz, Moisheh Katz, +that is, Moshke Katz." Says he, "Moshke Katz?" He has no Moshke Katz in +the third class. "There is," he says, "a Katz, only not a Moshke Katz, +but a Morduch--Morduch Katz." Say I, "What Morduch? Moshke, not +Morduch!" "Morduch!" he repeats, and thrusts the paper into my face. I +to him, "Moshke." He to me, "Morduch!" In short, Moshke--Morduch, +Morduch--Moshke, we hammer away till there comes out a fine tale: that +which should have been mine is another's. You see what a kettle of fish? +A regular Gentile muddle! They have entered a Katz--yes! But, by +mistake, another, not ours. You see how it was: there were two Katz's in +our town! What do you say to such luck? I have made a bed, and another +will lie in it! No, but you ought to know who the other is, _that_ Katz, +I mean! A nothing of a nobody, an artisan, a bookbinder or a carpenter, +quite a harmless little man, but who ever heard of him? A pauper! And +_his_ son--yes! And mine--no! Isn't it enough to disgust one, I ask you! +And you should have seen that poor boy of mine, when he was told to take +the badge off his cap! No bride on her wedding-day need shed more tears +than were his! And no matter how I reasoned with him, whether I coaxed +or scolded. "You see," I said to her, "what you've done! Didn't I tell +you that your Gymnasiye was a slaughter-house for him? I only trust this +may have a good ending, that he won't fall ill."--"Let my enemies," said +she, "fall ill, if they like. My child," says she, "must enter the +Gymnasiye. If he hasn't got in this time, in a year, please God, he +_will_. If he hasn't got in," says she, "_here_, he will get in in +another town--he _must_ get in! Otherwise," says she, "I shall shut an +eye, and the earth shall cover me!" You hear what she said? And who, do +you suppose, had his way--she or I? When _she_ sets her heart on a +thing, can there be any question? + +Well, I won't make a long story of it. I hunted up and down with him; we +went to the ends of the world, wherever there was a town and a +Gymnasiye, thither went we! We went up for examination, and were +examined, and we passed and passed high, and did _not_ get in--and why? +All because of the percentage! You may believe, I looked upon my own +self as crazy those days! "Wretch! what is this? What is this flying +that you fly from one town to another? What good is to come of it? And +suppose he does get in, what then?" No, say what you will, ambition is a +great thing. In the end it took hold of me, too, and the Almighty had +compassion, and sent me a Gymnasiye in Poland, a "commercial" one, where +they took in one Jew to every Christian. It came to fifty per cent. But +what then? Any Jew who wished his son to enter must bring his Christian +with him, and if he passes, that is, the Christian, and one pays his +entrance fee, then there is hope. Instead of one bundle, one has two on +one's shoulders, you understand? Besides being worn with anxiety about +my own, I had to tremble for the other, because if Esau, which Heaven +forbid, fail to pass, it's all over with Jacob. But what I went through +before I _got_ that Christian, a shoemaker's son, Holiava his name was, +is not to be described. And the best of all was this--would you believe +that my shoemaker, planted in the earth firmly as Korah, insisted on +Bible teaching? There was nothing for it but my son had to sit down +beside his, and repeat the Old Testament. How came a son of mine to the +Old Testament? Ai, don't ask! He can do everything and understands +everything. + +With God's help the happy day arrived, and they both passed. Is my story +finished? Not quite. When it came to their being entered in the books, +to writing out a check, my Christian was not to be found! What has +happened? He, the Gentile, doesn't care for his son to be among so many +Jews--he won't hear of it! Why should he, seeing that all doors are open +to him anyhow, and he can get in where he pleases? Tell him it isn't +fair? Much good that would be! "Look here," say I, "how much do you +want, Pani Holiava?" Says he, "Nothing!" To cut the tale short--up and +down, this way and that way, and friends and people interfering, we had +him off to a refreshment place, and ordered a glass, and two, and three, +before it all came right! Once he was really in, I cried my eyes out, +and thanks be to Him whose Name is blessed, and who has delivered me out +of all my troubles! When I got home, a fresh worry! What now? My wife +has been reflecting and thinking it over: After all, her only son, the +apple of her eye--he would be _there_ and we _here_! And if so, what, +says she, would life be to her? "Well," say I, "what do you propose +doing?"--"What I propose doing?" says she. "Can't you guess? I propose," +says she, "to be with him."--"You do?" say I. "And the house? What about +the house?"--"The house," says she, "is a house." Anything to object to +in that? So she was off to him, and I was left alone at home. And what a +home! I leave you to imagine. May such a year be to my enemies! My +comfort was gone, the business went to the bad. Everything went to the +bad, and we were continually writing letters. I wrote to her, she wrote +to me--letters went and letters came. Peace to my beloved wife! Peace to +my beloved husband! "For Heaven's sake," I write, "what is to be the end +of it? After all, I'm no more than a man! A man without a +housemistress!" It was as much use as last year's snow; it was she who +had her way, she, and not I, as usual. + +To make an end of my story, I worked and worried myself to pieces, made +a mull of the whole business, sold out, became a poor man, and carried +my bundle over to them. Once there, I took a look round to see where I +was in the world, nibbled here and there, just managed to make my way a +bit, and entered into a partnership with a trader, quite a respectable +man, yes! A well-to-do householder, holding office in the Shool, but at +bottom a deceiver, a swindler, a pickpocket, who was nearly the ruin of +me! You can imagine what a cheerful state of things it was. Meanwhile I +come home one evening, and see my boy come to meet me, looking +strangely red in the face, and without a badge on his cap. Say I to him, +"Look here, Moshehl, where's your badge?" Says he to me, "Whatever +badge?" Say I, "The button." Says he, "Whatever button?" Say I, "The +button off your cap." It was a new cap with a new badge, only just +bought for the festival! He grows redder than before, and says, "Taken +off." Say I, "What do you mean by 'taken off'?" Says he, "I am free." +Say I, "What do you mean by 'you are free'?" Says he, "We are _all_ +free." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are _all_ free'?" Says he, "We +are not going back any more." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are not +going back'?" Says he, "We have united in the resolve to stay away." Say +I, "What do you mean by '_you_' have united in a resolve? Who are 'you'? +What is all this? Bless your grandmother," say I, "do you suppose I have +been through all this for you to unite in a resolve? Alas! and alack!" +say I, "for you and me and all of us! May it please God not to let this +be visited on Jewish heads, because always and everywhere," say I, "Jews +are the scapegoats." I speak thus to him and grow angry and reprove him +as a father usually does reprove a child. But I have a wife (long life +to her!), and she comes running, and washes my head for me, tells me I +don't know what is going on in the world, that the world is quite +another world to what it used to be, an intelligent world, an open +world, a free world, "a world," says she, "in which all are equal, in +which there are no rich and no poor, no masters and no servants, no +sheep and no shears, no cats, rats, no piggy-wiggy--------" "Te-te-te!" +say I, "where have you learned such fine language? a new speech," say I, +"with new words. Why not open the hen-house, and let out the hens? +Chuck--chuck--chuck, hurrah for freedom!" Upon which she blazes up as if +I had poured ten pails of hot water over her. And now for it! As only +_they_ can! Well, one must sit it out and listen to the end. The worst +of it is, there is no end. "Look here," say I, "hush!" say I, "and now +let be!" say I, and beat upon my breast. "I have sinned!" say I, "I have +transgressed, and now stop," say I, "if you would only be quiet!" But +she won't hear, and she won't see. No, she says, she will know why and +wherefore and for goodness' sake and exactly, and just how it was, and +what it means, and how it happened, and once more and a second time, and +all over again from the beginning! + +I beg of you--who set the whole thing going? A--woman! + + + + +ELIEZER DAVID ROSENTHAL + + +Born, 1861, in Chotin, Bessarabia; went to Breslau, Germany, in 1880, +and pursued studies at the University; returned to Bessarabia in 1882; +co-editor of the Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and +Kishineff, 1905; writer of stories. + + + + +SABBATH + + +Friday evening! + +The room has been tidied, the table laid. Two Sabbath loaves have been +placed upon it, and covered with a red napkin. At the two ends are two +metal candlesticks, and between them two more of earthenware, with +candles in them ready to be lighted. + +On the small sofa that stands by the stove lies a sick man covered up +with a red quilt, from under the quilt appears a pale, emaciated face, +with red patches on the dried-up cheeks and a black beard. The sufferer +wears a nightcap, which shows part of his black hair and his black +earlocks. There is no sign of life in his face, and only a faint one in +his great, black eyes. + +On a chair by the couch sits a nine-year-old girl with damp locks, which +have just been combed out in honor of Sabbath. She is barefoot, dressed +only in a shirt and a frock. The child sits swinging her feet, absorbed +in what she is doing; but all her movements are gentle and noiseless. + +The invalid coughed. + +"Kche, kche, kche, kche," came from the sofa. + +"What is it, Tate?" asked the little girl, swinging her feet. + +The invalid made no reply. + +He slowly raised his head with both hands, pulled down the nightcap, and +coughed and coughed and coughed, hoarsely at first, then louder, the +cough tearing at his sick chest and dinning in the ears. Then he sat +up, and went on coughing and clearing his throat, till he had brought up +the phlegm. + +The little girl continued to be absorbed in her work and to swing her +feet, taking very little notice of her sick father. + +The invalid smoothed the creases in the cushion, laid his head down +again, and closed his eyes. He lay thus for a few minutes, then he said +quite quietly: + +"Leah!" + +"What is it, Tate?" inquired the child again, still swinging her feet. + +"Tell ... mother ... it is ... time to ... bless ... the candles...." + +The little girl never moved from her seat, but shouted through the open +door into the shop: + +"Mother, shut up shop! Father says it's time for candle-blessing." + +"I'm coming, I'm coming," answered her mother from the shop. + +She quickly disposed of a few women customers: sold one a kopek's worth +of tea, the other, two kopeks' worth of sugar, the third, two tallow +candles. Then she closed the shutters and the street door, and came into +the room. + +"You've drunk the glass of milk?" she inquired of the sick man. + +"Yes ... I have ... drunk it," he replied. + +"And you, Leahnyu, daughter," and she turned to the child, "may the evil +spirit take you! Couldn't you put on your shoes without my telling you? +Don't you know it's Sabbath?" + +The little girl hung her head, and made no other answer. + +Her mother went to the table, lighted the candles, covered her face with +her hands, and blessed them. + +After that she sat down on the seat by the window to take a rest. + +It was only on Sabbath that she could rest from her hard work, toiling +and worrying as she was the whole week long with all her strength and +all her mind. + +She sat lost in thought. + +She was remembering past happy days. + +She also had known what it is to enjoy life, when her husband was in +health, and they had a few hundred rubles. They finished boarding with +her parents, they set up a shop, and though he had always been a close +frequenter of the house-of-study, a bench-lover, he soon learnt the +Torah of commerce. She helped him, and they made a livelihood, and ate +their bread in honor. But in course of time some quite new shops were +started in the little town, there was great competition, the trade was +small, and the gains were smaller, it became necessary to borrow money +on interest, on weekly payment, and to pay for goods at once. The +interest gradually ate up the capital with the gains. The creditors took +what they could lay hands on, and still her husband remained in their +debt. + +He could not get over this, and fell ill. + +The whole bundle of trouble fell upon her: the burden of a livelihood, +the children, the sick man, everything, everything, on her. + +But she did not lose heart. + +"God will help, _he_ will soon get well, and will surely find some work. +God will not desert us," so she reflected, and meantime she was not +sitting idle. + +The very difficulty of her position roused her courage, and gave her +strength. + +She sold her small store of jewelry, and set up a little shop. + +Three years have passed since then. + +However it may be, God has not abandoned her, and however bitter and +sour the struggle for Parnosseh may have been, she had her bit of bread. +Only his health did not return, he grew daily weaker and worse. + +She glanced at her sick husband, at his pale, emaciated face, and tears +fell from her eyes. + +During the week she has no time to think how unhappy she is. Parnosseh, +housework, attendance on the children and the sick man--these things +take up all her time and thought. She is glad when it comes to bedtime, +and she can fall, dead tired, onto her bed. + +But on Sabbath, the day of rest, she has time to think over her hard lot +and all her misery and to cry herself out. + +"When will there be an end of my troubles and suffering?" she asked +herself, and could give no answer whatever to the question beyond +despairing tears. She saw no ray of hope lighting her future, only a +great, wide, shoreless sea of trouble. + +It flashed across her: + +"When he dies, things will be easier." + +But the thought of his death only increased her apprehension. + +It brought with it before her eyes the dreadful words: widow, orphans, +poor little fatherless children.... + +These alarmed her more than her present distress. + +How can children grow up without a father? Now, even though he's ill, he +keeps an eye on them, tells them to say their prayers and to study. Who +is to watch over them if he dies? + +"Don't punish me, Lord of the World, for my bad thought," she begged +with her whole heart. "I will take it upon myself to suffer and trouble +for all, only don't let him die, don't let me be called by the bitter +name of widow, don't let my children be called orphans!" + + * * * * * + +He sits upon his couch, his head a little thrown back and leaning +against the wall. In one hand he holds a prayer-book--he is receiving +the Sabbath into his house. His pale lips scarcely move as he whispers +the words before him, and his thoughts are far from the prayer. He knows +that he is dangerously ill, he knows what his wife has to suffer and +bear, and not only is he powerless to help her, but his illness is her +heaviest burden, what with the extra expense incurred on his account and +the trouble of looking after him. Besides which, his weakness makes him +irritable, and his anger has more than once caused her unmerited pain. +He sees and knows it all, and his heart is torn with grief. "Only death +can help us," he murmurs, and while his lips repeat the words of the +prayer-book, his heart makes one request to God and only one: that God +should send kind Death to deliver him from his trouble and misery. + +Suddenly the door opened and a ten-year-old boy came into the room, in a +long Sabbath cloak, with two long earlocks, and a prayer-book under his +arm. + +"A good Sabbath!" said the little boy, with a loud, ringing voice. + +It seemed as if he and the holy Sabbath had come into the room together! +In one moment the little boy had driven trouble and sadness out of +sight, and shed light and consolation round him. + +His "good Sabbath!" reached his parents' hearts, awoke there new life +and new hopes. + +"A good Sabbath!" answered the mother. Her eyes rested on the child's +bright face, and her thoughts were no longer melancholy as before, for +she saw in his eyes a whole future of happy possibilities. + +"A good Sabbath!" echoed the lips of the sick man, and he took a deeper, +easier breath. No, he will not die altogether, he will live again after +death in the child. He can die in peace, he leaves a Kaddish behind +him. + + + + +YOM KIPPUR + + +Erev Yom Kippur, Minchah time! + +The Eve of the Day of Atonement, at Afternoon Prayer time. + +A solemn and sacred hour for every Jew. + +Everyone feels as though he were born again. + +All the week-day worries, the two-penny-half-penny interests, seem far, +far away; or else they have hidden themselves in some corner. Every Jew +feels a noble pride, an inward peace mingled with fear and awe. He knows +that the yearly Judgment Day is approaching, when God Almighty will hold +the scales in His hand and weigh every man's merits against his +transgressions. The sentence given on that day is one of life or death. +No trifle! But the Jew is not so terrified as you might think--he has +broad shoulders. Besides, he has a certain footing behind the "upper +windows," he has good advocates and plenty of them; he has the "binding +of Isaac" and a long chain of ancestors and ancestresses, who were put +to death for the sanctification of the Holy Name, who allowed themselves +to be burnt and roasted for the sake of God's Torah. Nishkoshe! Things +are not so bad. The Lord of All may just remember that, and look aside a +little. Is He not the Compassionate, the Merciful? + +The shadows lengthen and lengthen. + +Jews are everywhere in commotion. + +Some hurry home straight from the bath, drops of bath-water dripping +from beard and earlocks. They have not even dried their hair properly in +their haste. + +It is time to prepare for the davvening. Some are already on their way +to Shool, robed in white. Nearly every Jew carries in one hand a large, +well-packed Tallis-bag, which to-day, besides the prayer-scarf, holds +the whole Jewish outfit: a bulky prayer-book, a book of Psalms, a +Likkute Zevi, and so on; and in the other hand, two wax-candles, one a +large one, that is the "light of life," and the other a small one, a +shrunken looking thing, which is the "soul-light." + +The Tamschevate house-of-study presents at this moment the following +picture: the floor is covered with fresh hay, and the dust and the smell +of the hay fill the whole building. Some of the men are standing at +their prayers, beating their breasts in all seriousness. "We have +trespassed, we have been faithless, we have robbed," with an occasional +sob of contrition. Others are very busy setting up their wax-lights in +boxes filled with sand; one of them, a young man who cannot live without +it, betakes himself to the platform and repeats a "Bless ye the Lord." +Meantime another comes slyly, and takes out two of the candles standing +before the platform, planting his own in their place. Not far from the +ark stands the beadle with a strap in his hand, and all the foremost +householders go up to him, lay themselves down with their faces to the +ground, and the beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows apiece, and not +one of them bears him any grudge. Even Reb Groinom, from whom the beadle +never hears anything from one Yom Kippur to another but "may you be ... +"and "rascal," "impudence," "brazen face," "spendthrift," "carrion," +"dog of all dogs"--and not infrequently Reb Groinom allows himself to +apply his right hand to the beadle's cheek, and the latter has to take +it all in a spirit of love--this same Reb Groinom now humbly approaches +the same poor beadle, lies quietly down with his face to the ground, +stretches himself out, and the beadle deliberately counts the strokes up +to "thirty-nine Malkes." Covered with hay, Reb Groinom rises slowly, a +piteous expression on his face, just as if he had been well thrashed, +and he pushes a coin into the Shamash's hand. This is evidently the +beadle's day! To-day he can take his revenge on his householders for the +insults and injuries of a whole year! + +But if you want to be in the thick of it all, you must stand in the +anteroom by the door, where people are crowding round the plates for +collections. The treasurer sits beside a little table with the directors +of the congregation; the largest plate lies before them. To one side of +them sits the cantor with his plate, and beside the cantor, several +house-of-study youths with theirs. On every plate lies a paper with a +written notice: "Visiting the Sick," "Supporting the Fallen," "Clothing +the Naked," "Talmud Torah," "Refuge for the Poor," and so forth. Over +one plate, marked "The Return to the Land of Israel," presides a modern +young man, a Zionist. Everyone wishing to enter the house-of-study must +first go to the plates marked "Call to the Torah" and "Seat in the +Shool," put in what is his due, and then throw a few kopeks into the +other plates. + + * * * * * + +Berel Tzop bustled up to the plate "Seat in the Shool," gave what was +expected of him, popped a few coppers into the other plates, and +prepared to recite the Afternoon Prayer. He wanted to pause a little +between the words of his prayer, to attend to their meaning, to impress +upon himself that this was the Eve of the Day of Atonement! But idle +thoughts kept coming into his head, as though on purpose to annoy him, +and his mind was all over the place at once! The words of the prayers +got mixed up with the idea of oats, straw, wheat, and barley, and +however much trouble he took to drive these idle thoughts away, he did +not succeed. "Blow the great trumpet of our deliverance!" shouted Berel, +and remembered the while that Ivan owed him ten measures of wheat. +"...lift up the ensign to gather our exiles!..."--"and I made a mistake +in Stephen's account by thirty kopeks...." Berel saw that it was +impossible for him to pray with attention, and he began to reel off the +Eighteen Benedictions, but not till he reached the Confession could he +collect his scattered thoughts, and realize what he was saying. When he +raised his hands to beat his breast at "We have trespassed, we have +robbed," the hand remained hanging in the air, half-way. A shudder went +through his limbs, the letters of the words "we have robbed" began to +grow before his eyes, they became gigantic, they turned strange +colors--red, blue, green, and yellow--now they took the form of large +frogs--they got bigger and bigger, crawled into his eyes, croaked in his +ears: You are a thief, a robber, you have stolen and plundered! You +think nobody saw, that it would all run quite smoothly, but you are +wrong! We shall stand before the Throne of Glory and cry: You are a +thief, a robber! + +Berel stood some time with his hand raised midway in the air. + +The whole affair of the hundred rubles rose before his eyes. + +A couple of months ago he had gone into the house of Reb Moisheh +Chalfon. The latter had just gone out, there was nobody else in the +room, nobody had even seen him come in. + +The key was in the desk--Berel had looked at it, had hardly touched +it--the drawer had opened as though of itself--several +hundred-ruble-notes had lain glistening before his eyes! Just that day, +Berel had received a very unpleasant letter from the father of his +daughter's bridegroom, and to make matters worse, the author of the +letter was in the right. Berel had been putting off the marriage for two +years, and the Mechutton wrote quite plainly, that unless the wedding +took place after Tabernacles, he should return him the contract. + +"Return the contract!" the fiery letters burnt into Berel's brain. + +He knew his Mechutton well. The Misnaggid! He wouldn't hesitate to tear +up a marriage contract, either! And when it's a question of a by no +means pretty girl of twenty and odd years! And the kind of bridegroom +anybody might be glad to have secured for his daughter! And then to +think that only one of those hundred-ruble-notes lying tossed together +in that drawer would help him out of all his troubles. And the Evil +Inclination whispers in his ear: "Berel, now or never! There will be an +end to all your worry! Don't you see, it's a godsend." He, Berel, +wrestled with him hard. He remembers it all distinctly, and he can hear +now the faint little voice of the Good Inclination: "Berel, to become a +thief in one's latter years! You who so carefully avoided even the +smallest deceit! Fie, for shame! If God will, he can help you by honest +means too." But the voice of the Good Inclination was so feeble, so +husky, and the Evil Inclination suggested in his other ear: "Do you know +what? _Borrow_ one hundred rubles! Who talks of stealing? You will earn +some money before long, and then you can pay him back--it's a charitable +loan on his part, only that he doesn't happen to know of it. Isn't it +plain to be seen that it's a godsend? If you don't call this Providence, +what is? Are you going to take more than you really need? You know your +Mechutton? Have you taken a good look at that old maid of yours? You +recollect the bridegroom? Well, the Mechutton will be kind and mild as +milk. The bridegroom will be a 'silken son-in-law,' the ugly old maid, a +young wife--fool! God and men will envy you...." And he, Berel, lost his +head, his thoughts flew hither and thither, like frightened birds, +and--he no longer knew which of the two voices was that of the Good +Inclination, and-- + +No one saw him leave Moisheh Chalfon's house. + +And still his hand remains suspended in mid-air, still it does not fall +against his breast, and there is a cold perspiration on his brow. + +Berel started, as though out of his sleep. He had noticed that people +were beginning to eye him as he stood with his hand held at a distance +from his person. He hastily rattled through "For the sin, ..." concluded +the Eighteen Benedictions, and went home. + +At home, he didn't dawdle, he only washed his hands, recited "Who +bringest forth bread," and that was all. The food stuck in his throat, +he said grace, returned to Shool, put on the Tallis, and started to +intone tunefully the Prayer of Expiation. + + * * * * * + +The lighted wax-candles, the last rays of the sun stealing in through +the windows of the house-of-study, the congregation entirely robed in +white and enfolded in the prayer-scarfs, the intense seriousness +depicted on all faces, the hum of voices, and the bitter weeping that +penetrated from the women's gallery, all this suited Berel's mood, his +contrite heart. Berel had recited the Prayer of Expiation with deep +feeling; tears poured from his eyes, his own broken voice went right +through his heart, every word found an echo there, and he felt it in +every limb. Berel stood before God like a little child before its +parents: he wept and told all that was in his heavily-laden heart, the +full tale of his cares and troubles. Berel was pleased with himself, he +felt that he was not saying the words anyhow, just rolling them off his +tongue, but he was really performing an act of penitence with his whole +heart. He felt remorse for his sins, and God is a God of compassion and +mercy, who will certainly pardon him. + +"Therefore is my heart sad," began Berel, "that the sin which a man +commits against his neighbor cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement, unless he asks his neighbor's forgiveness ... therefore is my +heart broken and my limbs tremble, because even the day of my death +cannot atone for this sin." + +Berel began to recite this in pleasing, artistic fashion, weeping and +whimpering like a spoiled child, and drawling out the words, when it +grew dark before his eyes. Berel had suddenly become aware that he was +in the position of one about to go in through an open door. He advances, +he must enter, it is a question of life and death. And without any +warning, just as he is stepping across the threshold, the door is shut +from within with a terrible bang, and he remains standing outside. + +And he has read this in the Prayer of Expiation? With fear and +fluttering he reads it over again, looking narrowly at every word--a +cold sweat covers him--the words prick him like pins. Are these two +verses his pitiless judges, are they the expression of his sentence? Is +he already condemned? "Ay, ay, you are guilty," flicker the two verses +on the page before him, and prayer and tears are no longer of any avail. +His heart cried to God: "Have pity, merciful Father! A grown-up +girl--what am I to do with her? And his father wanted to break off the +engagement. As soon as I have earned the money, I will give it back...." +But he knew all the time that these were useless subterfuges; the Lord +of the Universe can only pardon the sin committed against Himself, the +sin committed against man cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement! + +Berel took another look at the Prayer of Expiation. The words, "unless +he asks his neighbor's forgiveness," danced before his eyes. A ray of +hope crept into his despairing heart. One way is left open to him: he +can confess to Moisheh Chalfon! But the hope was quickly extinguished. +Is that a small matter? What of my honor, my good name? And what of the +match? "Mercy, O Father," he cried, "have mercy!" + +Berel proceeded no further with the Prayer of Expiation. He stood lost +in his melancholy thoughts, his whole life passed before his eyes. He, +Berel, had never licked honey, trouble had been his in plenty, he had +known cares and worries, but God had never abandoned him. It had +frequently happened to him in the course of his life to think he was +lost, to give up all his hope. But each time God had extricated him +unexpectedly from his difficulty, and not only that, but lawfully, +honestly, Jewishly. And now--he had suddenly lost his trust in the +Providence of His dear Name! "Donkey!" thus Berel abused himself, "went +to look for trouble, did you? Now you've got it! Sold yourself body and +soul for one hundred rubles! Thief! thief! thief!" It did Berel good to +abuse himself like this, it gave him a sort of pleasure to aggravate his +wounds. + +Berel, sunk in his sad reflections, has forgotten where he is in the +world. The congregation has finished the Prayer of Expiation, and is +ready for Kol Nidré. The cantor is at his post at the reading-desk on +the platform, two of the principal, well-to-do Jews, with Torahs in +their hands, on each side of him. One of them is Moisheh Chalfon. There +is a deep silence in the building. The very last rays of the sun are +slanting in through the window, and mingling with the flames of the +wax-candles.... + +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed," +startled Berel's ears. It was Moisheh Chalfon's voice. The voice was +low, sweet, and sad. Berel gave a side glance at where Moisheh Chalfon +was standing, and it seemed to him that Moisheh Chalfon was doing the +same to him, only Moisheh Chalfon was looking not into his eyes, but +deep into his heart, and there reading the word Thief! And Moisheh +Chalfon is permitting the people to pray together with him, Berel the +thief! + +"Mercy, mercy, compassionate God!" cried Berel's heart in its despair. + + * * * * * + +They had concluded Maariv, recited the first four chapters of the Psalms +and the Song of Unity, and the people went home, to lay in new strength +for the morrow. + +There remained only a few, who spent the greater part of the night +repeating Psalms, intoning the Mishnah, and so on; they snatched an +occasional doze on the bare floor overlaid with a whisp of hay, an old +cloak under their head. Berel also stayed the night in the +house-of-study. He sat down in a corner, in robe and Tallis, and began +reciting Psalms with a pleasing pathos, and he went on until overtaken +by sleep. At first he resisted, he took a nice pinch of snuff, rubbed +his eyes, collected his thoughts, but it was no good. The covers of the +book of Psalms seemed to have been greased, for they continually slipped +from his grasp, the printed lines had grown crooked and twisted, his +head felt dreadfully heavy, and his eyelids clung together; his nose was +forever drooping towards the book of Psalms. He made every effort to +keep awake, started up every time as though he had burnt himself, but +sleep was the stronger of the two. Gradually he slid from the bench onto +the floor; the Psalter slipped finally from between his fingers, his +head dropped onto the hay, and he fell sweetly asleep.... + +And Berel had a dream: + +Yom Kippur, and yet there is a fair in the town, the kind of fair one +calls an "earthquake," a fair such as Berel does not remember having +seen these many years, so crowded is it with men and merchandise. There +is something of everything--cattle, horses, sheep, corn, and fruit. All +the Tamschevate Jews are strolling round with their wives and children, +there is buying and selling, the air is full of noise and shouting, the +whole fair is boiling and hissing and humming like a kettle. One runs +this way and one that way, this one is driving a cow, that one leading +home a horse by the rein, the other buying a whole cart-load of corn. +Berel is all astonishment and curiosity: how is it possible for Jews to +busy themselves with commerce on Yom Kippur? on such a holy day? As far +back as he can remember, Jews used to spend the whole day in Shool, in +linen socks, white robe, and prayer-scarf. They prayed and wept. And now +what has come over them, that they should be trading on Yom Kippur, as +if it were a common week-day, in shoes and boots (this last struck him +more than anything)? Perhaps it is all a dream? thought Berel in his +sleep. But no, it is no dream! "Here I am strolling round the fair, wide +awake. And the screaming and the row in my ears, is that a dream, too? +And my having this very minute been bumped on the shoulder by a Gentile +going past me with a horse--is that a dream? But if the whole world is +taking part in the fair, it's evidently the proper thing to do...." +Meanwhile he was watching a peasant with a horse, and he liked the look +of the horse so much that he bought it and mounted it. And he looked at +it from where he sat astride, and saw the horse was a horse, but at the +selfsame time it was Moisheh Chalfon as well. Berel wondered: how is it +possible for it to be at once a horse and a man? But his own eyes told +him it was so. He wanted to dismount, but the horse bears him to a shop. +Here he climbed down and asked for a pound of sugar. Berel kept his eyes +on the scales, and--a fresh surprise! Where they should have been +weighing sugar, they were weighing his good and bad deeds. And the two +scales were nearly equally laden, and oscillated up and down in the +air.... + +Suddenly they threw a sheet of paper into the scale that held his bad +deeds. Berel looked to see--it was the hundred-ruble-note which he had +appropriated at Moisheh Chalfon's! But it was now much larger, bordered +with black, and the letters and numbers were red as fire. The piece of +paper was frightfully heavy, it was all two men could do to carry it to +the weighing-machine, and when they had thrown it with all their might +onto the scale, something snapped, and the scale went down, down, down. + +At that moment a man sleeping at Berel's head stretched out a foot, and +gave Berel a kick in the head. Berel awoke. + +Not far from him sat a grey-haired old Jew, huddled together, enfolded +in a Tallis and robe, repeating Psalms with a melancholy chant and a +broken, quavering voice. + +Berel caught the words: + + "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: + For the end of that man is peace. + But the transgressors shall be destroyed together: + The latter end of the wicked shall be cut off...." + +Berel looked round in a fright: Where is he? He had quite forgotten that +he had remained for the night in the house-of-study. He gazed round with +sleepy eyes, and they fell on some white heaps wrapped in robes and +prayer-scarfs, while from their midst came the low, hoarse, tearful +voices of two or three men who had not gone to sleep and were repeating +Psalms. Many of the candles were already sputtering, the wax was melting +into the sand, the flames rose and fell, and rose again, flaring +brightly. + +And the pale moon looked in at the windows, and poured her silvery light +over the fantastic scene. + +Berel grew icy cold, and a dreadful shuddering went through his limbs. + +He had not yet remembered that he was spending the night in the +house-of-study. + +He imagined that he was dead, and astray in limbo. The white heaps which +he sees are graves, actual graves, and there among the graves sit a few +sinful souls, and bewail and lament their transgressions. And he, Berel, +cannot even weep, he is a fallen one, lost forever--he is condemned to +wander, to roam everlastingly among the graves. + +By degrees, however, he called to mind where he was, and collected his +wits. + +Only then he remembered his fearful dream. + +"No," he decided within himself, "I have lived till now without the +hundred rubles, and I will continue to live without them. If the Lord of +the Universe wishes to help me, he will do so without them too. My soul +and my portion of the world-to-come are dearer to me. Only let Moisheh +Chalfon come in to pray, I will tell him the whole truth and avert +misfortune." + +This decision gave him courage, he washed his hands, and sat down again +to the Psalms. Every few minutes he glanced at the window, to see if it +were not beginning to dawn, and if Reb Moisheh Chalfon were not coming +along to Shool. + +The day broke. + +With the first sunbeams Berel's fears and terrors began little by little +to dissipate and diminish. His resolve to restore the hundred rubles +weakened considerably. + +"If I don't confess," thought Berel, wrestling in spirit with +temptation, "I risk my world-to-come.... If I do confess, what will my +Chantzeh-Leah say to it? He writes, either the wedding takes place, or +the contract is dissolved! And what shall I do, when his father gets to +hear about it? There will be a stain on my character, the marriage +contract will be annulled, and I shall be left ... without my good name +and ... with my ugly old maid.... + +"What is to be done? Help! What is to be done?" + +The people began to gather in the Shool. The reader of the Morning +Service intoned "He is Lord of the Universe" to the special Yom Kippur +tune, a few householders and young men supported him, and Berel heard +through it all only, Help! What is to be done? + +And suddenly he beheld Moisheh Chalfon. + +Berel quickly rose from his place, he wanted to make a rush at Moisheh +Chalfon. But after all he remained where he was, and sat down again. + +"I must first think it over, and discuss it with my Chantzeh-Leah," was +Berel's decision. + + * * * * * + +Berel stood up to pray with the congregation. He was again wishful to +pray with fervor, to collect his thoughts, and attend to the meaning of +the words, but try as he would, he couldn't! Quite other things came +into his head: a dream, a fair, a horse, Moisheh Chalfon, Chantzeh-Leah, +oats, barley, _this_ world and the next were all mixed up together in +his mind, and the words of the prayers skipped about like black patches +before his eyes. He wanted to say he was sorry, to cry, but he only made +curious grimaces, and could not squeeze out so much as a single tear. + +Berel was very dissatisfied with himself. He finished the Morning +Prayer, stood through the Additional Service, and proceeded to devour +the long Piyyutim. + +The question, What is to be done? left him no peace, and he was really +reciting the Piyyutim to try and stupefy himself, to dull his brain. + +So it went on till U-Nesanneh Toikef. + +The congregation began to prepare for U-Nesanneh Toikef, coughed, to +clear their throats, and pulled the Tallesim over their heads. The +cantor sat down for a minute to rest, and unbuttoned his shroud. His +face was pale and perspiring, and his eyes betrayed a great weariness. +From the women's gallery came a sound of weeping and wailing. + +Berel had drawn his Tallis over his head, and started reciting with +earnestness and enthusiasm: + + "We will express the mighty holiness of this Day, + For it is tremendous and awful! + On which Thy kingdom is exalted, + And Thy throne established in grace; + Whereupon Thou art seated in truth. + Verily, it is Thou who art judge and arbitrator, + Who knowest all, and art witness, writer, sigillator, + recorder and teller; + And Thou recallest all forgotten things, + And openest the Book of Remembrance, and the book reads itself, + And every man's handwriting is there...." + +These words opened the source of Berel's tears, and he sobbed +unaffectedly. Every sentence cut him to the heart, like a sharp knife, +and especially the passage: + +"And Thou recallest all forgotten things, and openest the Book of +Remembrance, and the book reads itself, and every man's handwriting is +there...." At that very moment the Book of Remembrance was lying open +before the Lord of the Universe, with the handwritings of all men. It +contains his own as well, the one which he wrote with his own hand that +day when he took away the hundred-ruble-note. He pictures how his soul +flew up to Heaven while he slept, and entered everything in the eternal +book, and now the letters stood before the Throne of Glory, and cried, +"Berel is a thief, Berel is a robber!" And he has the impudence to stand +and pray before God? He, the offender, the transgressor--and the Shool +does not fall upon his head? + +The congregation concluded U-Nesanneh Toikef, and the cantor began: "And +the great trumpet of ram's horn shall be sounded..." and still Berel +stood with the Tallis over his head. + +Suddenly he heard the words: + + "And the Angels are dismayed, + Fear and trembling seize hold of them as they proclaim, + As swiftly as birds, and say: + This is the Day of Judgment!" + +The words penetrated into the marrow of Berel's bones, and he shuddered +from head to foot. The words, "This is the Day of Judgment," +reverberated in his ears like a peal of thunder. He imagined the angels +were hastening to him with one speed, with one swoop, to seize and drag +him before the Throne of Glory, and the piteous wailing that came from +the women's court was for him, for his wretched soul, for his endless +misfortune. + +"No! no! no!" he resolved, "come what may, let him annul the contract, +let them point at me with their fingers as at a thief, if they choose, +let my Chantzeh-Leah lose her chance! I will take it all in good part, +if I may only save my unhappy soul! The minute the Kedushah is over I +shall go to Moisheh Chalfon, tell him the whole story, and beg him to +forgive me." + +The cantor came to the end of U-Nesanneh Toikef, the congregation +resumed their seats, Berel also returned to his place, and did not go up +to Moisheh Chalfon. + +"Help, what shall I do, what shall I do?" he thought, as he struggled +with his conscience. "Chantzeh-Leah will lay me on the fire ... she will +cry her life out ... the Mechutton ... the bridegroom...." + + * * * * * + +The Additional Service and the Afternoon Service were over, people were +making ready for the Conclusion Service, Neïleh. The shadows were once +more lengthening, the sun was once more sinking in the west. The +Shool-Goi began to light candles and lamps, and placed them on the +tables and the window-ledges. Jews with faces white from exhaustion sat +in the anteroom resting and refreshing themselves with a pinch of snuff, +or a drop of hartshorn, and a few words of conversation. Everyone feels +more cheerful and in better humor. What had to be done, has been done +and well done. The Lord of the Universe has received His due. They have +mortified themselves a whole day, fasted continuously, recited prayers, +and begged forgiveness! + +Now surely the Almighty will do His part, accept the Jewish prayers and +have compassion on His people Israel. + +Only Berel sits in a corner by himself. He also is wearied and +exhausted. He also has fasted, prayed, wept, mortified himself, like the +rest. But he knows that the whole of his toil and trouble has been +thrown away. He sits troubled, gloomy, and depressed. He knows that they +have now reached Neïleh, that he has still time to repent, that the door +of Heaven will stand open a little while longer, his repentance may yet +pass through ... otherwise, yet a little while, and the gates of mercy +will be shut and ... too late! + +"Oh, open the gate to us, even while it is closing," sounded in Berel's +ears and heart ... yet a little while, and it will be too late! + +"No, no!" shrieked Berel to himself, "I will not lose my soul, my +world-to-come! Let Chantzeh-Leah burn me and roast me, I will take it +all in good part, so that I don't lose my world-to-come!" + +Berel rose from his seat, and went up to Moisheh Chalfon. + +"Reb Moisheh, a word with you," he whispered into his ear. + +"Afterwards, when the prayers are done." + +"No, no, no!" shrieked Berel, below his breath, "now, at once!" + +Moisheh Chalfon stood up. + +Berel led him out of the house-of-study, and aside. + +"Reb Moisheh, kind soul, have pity on me and forgive me!" cried Berel, +and burst into sobs. + +"God be with you, Berel, what has come over you all at once?" asked Reb +Moisheh, in astonishment. + +"Listen to me, Reb Moisheh!" said Berel, still sobbing. "The hundred +rubles you lost a few weeks ago are in my house!... God knows the truth, +I didn't take them out of wickedness. I came into your house, the key +was in the drawer ... there was no one in the room.... That day I'd had +a letter from my Mechutton that he'd break off his son's engagement if +the wedding didn't take place to time.... My girl is ugly and old ... +the bridegroom is a fine young man ... a precious stone.... I opened the +drawer in spite of myself ... and saw the bank-notes.... You see how it +was?... My Mechutton is a Misnaggid ... a flint-hearted screw.... I took +out the note ... but it is shortening my years!... God knows what I bore +and suffered at the time.... To-night I will bring you the note back.... +Forgive me!... Let the Mechutton break off the match, if he chooses, let +the woman fret away her years, so long as I am rid of the serpent that +is gnawing at my heart, and gives me no peace! I never before touched a +ruble belonging to anyone else, and become a thief in my latter years I +won't!" + +Moisheh Chalfon did not answer him for a little while. He took out his +snuff, and had a pinch, then he took out of the bosom of his robe a +great red handkerchief, wiped his nose, and reflected a minute or two. +Then he said quietly: + +"If a match were broken off through me, I should be sorry. You certainly +behaved as you should not have, in taking the money without leave, but +it is written: Judge not thy neighbor till thou hast stood in his place. +You shall keep the hundred rubles. Come to-night and bring me an I. O. +U., and begin to repay me little by little." + +"What are you, an angel?" exclaimed Berel, weeping. + +"God forbid," replied Moisheh Chalfon, quietly, "I am what you are. You +are a Jew, and I also am a Jew." + + + + +ISAIAH LERNER + +Born, 1861, in Zwoniec, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; co-editor of +die Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and Kishineff, +1905. + + + + +BERTZI WASSERFÜHRER + + +I + +The first night of Passover. It is already about ten o'clock. Outside it +is dark, wet, cold as the grave. A fine, close, sleety rain is driving +down, a light, sharp, fitful wind blows, whistles, sighs, and whines, +and wanders round on every side, like a returned and sinful soul seeking +means to qualify for eternal bliss. The mud is very thick, and reaches +nearly to the waist. + +At one end of the town of Kamenivke, in the Poor People's Street, which +runs along by the bath-house, it is darkest of all, and muddiest. The +houses there are small, low, and overhanging, tumbled together in such a +way that there is no seeing where the mud begins and the dwelling ends. +No gleam of light, even in the windows. Either the inhabitants of the +street are all asleep, resting their tired bones and aching limbs, or +else they all lie suffocated in the sea of mud, simply because the mud +is higher than the windows. Whatever the reason, the street is quiet as +a God's-acre, and the darkness may be felt with the hands. + +Suddenly the dead stillness of the street is broken by the heavy tread +of some ponderous creature, walking and plunging through the Kamenivke +mud, and there appears the tall, broad figure of a man. He staggers like +one tipsy or sick, but he keeps on in a straight line, at an even pace, +like one born and bred and doomed to die in the familiar mud, till he +drags his way to a low, crouching house at the very end of the street, +almost under the hillside. It grows lighter--a bright flame shines +through the little window-panes. He has not reached the door before it +opens, and a shaky, tearful voice, full of melancholy, pain, and woe, +breaks the hush a second time this night: + +"Bertzi, is it you? Are you all right? So late? Has there been another +accident? And the cart and the horse, wu senen?" + +"All right, all right! A happy holiday!" + +His voice is rough, hoarse, and muffled. + +She lets him into the passage, and opens the inner door. + +But scarcely is he conscious of the light, warmth, and cleanliness of +the room, when he gives a strange, wild cry, takes one leap, like a +hare, onto the "eating-couch" spread for him on the red-painted, wooden +sofa, and--he lies already in a deep sleep. + + +II + +The whole dwelling, consisting of one nice, large, low room, is clean, +tidy, and bright. The bits of furniture and all the household essentials +are poor, but so clean and polished that one can mirror oneself in them, +if one cares to stoop down. The table is laid ready for Passover. The +bottles of red wine, the bottle of yellow Passover brandy, and the glass +goblets of different colors reflect the light of the thick tallow +candles, and shine and twinkle and sparkle. The oven, which stands in +the same room, is nearly out, there is one sleepy little bit of fire +still flickering. But the pots, ranged round the fire as though to watch +over it and encourage it, exhale such delicious, appetizing smells that +they would tempt even a person who had just eaten his fill. But no one +makes a move towards them. All five children lie stretched in a row on +the red-painted, wooden bed. Even they have not tasted of the precious +dishes, of which they have thought and talked for weeks previous to the +festival. They cried loud and long, waiting for their father's return, +and at last they went sweetly to sleep. Only one fly is moving about the +room: Rochtzi, Bertzi Wasserführer's wife, and rivers of tears, large, +clear tears, salt with trouble and distress, flow from her eyes. + + +III + +Although Rochtzi has not seen more than thirty summers, she looks like +an old woman. Once upon a time she was pretty, she was even known as one +of the prettiest of the Kamenivke girls, and traces of her beauty are +still to be found in her uncommonly large, dark eyes, and even in her +lined face, although the eyes have long lost their fire, and her cheeks, +their color and freshness. She is dressed in clean holiday attire, but +her eyes are red from the hot, salt tears, and her expression is +darkened and sad. + +"Such a festival, such a great, holy festival, and then when it +comes...." The pale lips tremble and quiver. + +How many days and nights, beginning before Purim, has she sat with her +needle between her fingers, so that the children should have their +holiday frocks--and all depending on her hands and head! How much +thought and care and strength has she spent on preparing the room, their +poor little possessions, and the food? How many were the days, Sabbaths +excepted, on which they went without a spoonful of anything hot, so that +they might be able to give a becoming reception to that dear, great, and +holy visitor, the Passover? Everything (the Almighty forbid that she +should sin with her tongue!) of the best, ready and waiting, and then, +after all.... + +He, his sheepskin, his fur cap, and his great boots are soaked with rain +and steeped in thick mud, and there, in this condition, lies he, Bertzi +Wasserführer, her husband, her Passover "king," like a great black lump, +on the nice, clean, white, draped "eating-couch," and snores. + + +IV + +The brief tale I am telling you happened in the days before Kamenivke +had joined itself on, by means of the long, tall, and beautiful bridge, +to the great high hill that has stood facing it from everlasting, +thickly wooded, and watered by quantities of clear, crystal streams, +which babble one to another day and night, and whisper with their +running tongues of most important things. So long as the bridge had not +been flung from one of the giant rocks to the other rock, the Kamenivke +people had not been able to procure the good, wholesome water of the +wild hill, and had to content themselves with the thick, impure water of +the river Smotritch, which has flowed forever round the eminence on +which Kamenivke is built. But man, and especially the Jew, gets used to +anything, and the Kamenivke people, who are nearly all Grandfather +Abraham's grandchildren, had drunk Smotritch water all their lives, and +were conscious of no grievance. + +But the lot of the Kamenivke water-carriers was hard and bitter. +Kamenivke stands high, almost in the air, and the river Smotritch runs +deep down in the valley. + +In summer, when the ground is dry, it was bearable, for then the +Kamenivke water-carrier was merely bathed in sweat as he toiled up the +hill, and the Jewish breadwinner has been used to that for ages. But in +winter, when the snow was deep and the frost tremendous, when the steep +Skossny hill with its clay soil was covered with ice like a hill of +glass! Or when the great rains were pouring down, and the town and +especially the clay hill are confounded with the deep, thick mud! + +Our Bertzi Wasserführer was more alive to the fascinations of this +Parnosseh than any other water-carrier. He was, as though in his own +despite, a pious Jew and a great man of his word, and he had to carry +water for almost all the well-to-do householders. True, that in face of +all his good luck he was one of the poorest Jews in the Poor People's +Street, only---- + + +V + +Lord of the World, may there never again be such a winter as there was +then! + +Not the oldest man there could recall one like it. The snow came down in +drifts, and never stopped. One could and might have sworn on a scroll of +the Law, that the great Jewish God was angry with the Kamenivke Jews, +and had commanded His angels to shovel down on Kamenivke all the snow +that had lain by in all the seven heavens since the sixth day of +creation, so that the sinful town might be a ruin and a desolation. + +And the terrible, fiery frosts! + +Frozen people were brought into the town nearly every day. + +Oi, Jews, how Bertzi Wasserführer struggled, what a time he had of it! +Enemies of Zion, it was nearly the death of him! + +And suddenly the snow began to stop falling, all at once, and then +things were worse than ever--there was a sea of water, an ocean of mud. + +And Passover coming on with great strides! + +For three days before Passover he had not come home to sleep. Who talks +of eating, drinking, and sleeping? He and his man toiled day and night, +like six horses, like ten oxen. + +The last day before Passover was the worst of all. His horse suddenly +came to the conclusion that sooner than live such a life, it would die. +So it died and vanished somewhere in the depths of the Kamenivke clay. + +And Bertzi the water-carrier and his man had to drag the cart with the +great water-barrel themselves, the whole day till long after dark. + + +VI + +It is already eleven, twelve, half past twelve at night, and Bertzi's +chest, throat, and nostrils continue to pipe and to whistle, to sob and +to sigh. + +The room is colder and darker, the small fire in the oven went out long +ago, and only little stumps of candles remain. + +Rochtzi walks and runs about the room, she weeps and wrings her hands. + +But now she runs up to the couch by the table, and begins to rouse her +husband with screams and cries fit to make one's blood run cold and the +hair stand up on one's head: + +"No, no, you're not going to sleep any longer, I tell you! Bertzi, do +you hear me? Get up, Bertzi, aren't you a Jew?--a man?--the father of +children?--Bertzi, have you God in your heart? Bertzi, have you said +your prayers? My husband, what about the Seder? I won't have it!--I feel +very ill--I am going to faint!--Help!--Water!" + +"Have I forgotten somebody's water?--Whose?--Where?..." + +But Rochtzi is no longer in need of water: she beholds her "king" on his +feet, and has revived without it. With her two hands, with all the +strength she has, she holds him from falling back onto the couch. + +"Don't you see, Bertzi? The candles are burning down, the supper is cold +and will spoil. I fancy it's already beginning to dawn. The children, +long life to them, went to sleep without any food. Come, please, begin +to prepare for the Seder, and I will wake the two elder ones." + +Bertzi stands bent double and treble. His breathing is labored and loud, +his face is smeared with mud and swollen from the cold, his beard and +earlocks are rough and bristly, his eyes sleepy and red. He looks +strangely wild and unkempt. Bertzi looks at Rochtzi, at the table, he +looks round the room, and sees nothing. But now he looks at the bed: his +little children, washed, and in their holiday dresses, are all lying in +a row across the bed, and--he remembers everything, and understands +what Rochtzi is saying, and what it is she wants him to do. + +"Give me some water--I said Minchah and Maariv by the way, while I was +at work." + +"I'm bringing it already! May God grant you a like happiness! Good +health to you! Hershele, get up, my Kaddish, father has come home +already! Shmuelkil, my little son, go and ask father the Four +Questions." + +Bertzi fills a goblet with wine, takes it up in his left hand, places it +upon his right hand, and begins: + +"Savri Moronon, ve-Rabbonon, ve-Rabbosai--with the permission of the +company."--His head goes round.--"Lord of the World!--I am a +Jew.--Blessed art Thou. Lord our God, King of the Universe--" It grows +dark before his eyes: "The first night of Passover--I ought to make +Kiddush--Thou who dost create the fruit of the vine"--his feet fail him, +as though they had been cut off--"and I ought to give the Seder--This is +the bread of the poor.... Lord of the World, you know how it is: I can't +do it!--Have mercy!--Forgive me!" + + +VII + +A nasty smell of sputtered-out candles fills the room. Rochtzi weeps. +Bertzi is back on the couch and snores. + +Different sounds, like the voices of winds, cattle, and wild beasts, and +the whirr of a mill, are heard in his snoring. And her weeping--it seems +as if the whole room were sighing and quivering and shaking.... + + + + +EZRIELK THE SCRIBE + + +Forty days before Ezrielk descended upon this sinful world, his +life-partner was proclaimed in Heaven, and the Heavenly Council decided +that he was to transcribe the books of the Law, prayers, and Mezuzehs +for the Kabtzonivke Jews, and thereby make a living for his wife and +children. But the hard word went forth to him that he should not +disclose this secret decree to anyone, and should even forget it himself +for a goodly number of years. A glance at Ezrielk told one that he had +been well lectured with regard to some important matter, and was to tell +no tales out of school. Even Minde, the Kabtzonivke Bobbe, testified to +this: + +"Never in all my life, all the time I've been bringing Jewish children +into God's world, have I known a child scream so loud at birth as +Ezrielk--a sign that he'd had it well rubbed into him!" + +Either the angel who has been sent to fillip little children above the +lips when they are being born, was just then very sleepy (Ezrielk was +born late at night), or some one had put him out of temper, but one way +or another little Ezrielk, the very first minute of his Jewish +existence, caught such a blow that his top lip was all but split in two. + +After this kindly welcome, when God's angel himself had thus received +Ezrielk, slaps, blows, and stripes rained down upon his head, body, and +life, all through his days, without pause or ending. + +Ezrielk began to attend Cheder when he was exactly three years old. His +first teacher treated him very badly, beat him continually, and took all +the joy of his childhood from him. By the time this childhood of his had +passed, and he came to be married (he began to wear the phylacteries and +the prayer-scarf on the day of his marriage), he was a very poor +specimen, small, thin, stooping, and yellow as an egg-pudding, his +little face dark, dreary, and weazened, like a dried Lender herring. The +only large, full things about him were his earlocks, which covered his +whole face, and his two blue eyes. He had about as much strength as a +fly, he could not even break the wine-glass under the marriage canopy by +himself, and had to ask for help of Reb Yainkef Butz, the beadle of the +Old Shool. + +Among the German Jews a boy like that would have been left unwed till he +was sixteen or even seventeen, but our Ezrielk was married at thirteen, +for his bride had been waiting for him seventeen years. + +It was this way: Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk's father, and Reb Selig +Tachshit, his father-in-law, were Hostre Chassidim, and used to drive +every year to spend the Solemn Days at the Hostre Rebbe's. They both +(not of you be it spoken!) lost all their children in infancy, and, as +you can imagine, they pressed the Rebbe very closely on this important +point, left him no peace, till he should bestir himself on their behalf, +and exercise all his influence in the Higher Spheres. Once, on the Eve +of Yom Kippur, before daylight, after the waving of the scape-fowls, +when the Rebbe, long life to him, was in somewhat high spirits, our two +Chassidim made another set upon him, but this time they had quite a new +plan, and it simply _had_ to work out! + +"Do you know what? Arrange a marriage between your children! Good luck +to you!" The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates, and actually +drew up the marriage contract. It was a little difficult to draw up the +contract, because they did not know which of our two friends would have +the boy (the Rebbe, long life to him, was silent on this head), and +which, the girl, but--a learned Jew is never at a loss, and they wrote +out the contract with conditions. + +For three years running after this their wives bore them each a child, +but the children were either both boys or both girls, so that their vow +to unite the son of one to a daughter of the other born in the same year +could not be fulfilled, and the documents lay on the shelf. + +True, the little couples departed for the "real world" within the first +month, but the Rebbe consoled the father by saying: + +"We may be sure they were not true Jewish children, that is, not true +Jewish souls. The true Jewish soul once born into the world holds on, +until, by means of various troubles and trials, it is cleansed from +every stain. Don't worry, but wait." + +The fourth year the Rebbe's words were established: Reb Selig Tachshit +had a daughter born to him, and Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk. + +Channehle, Ezrielk's bride, was tall, when they married, as a young +fir-tree, beautiful as the sun, clever as the day is bright, and white +as snow, with sky-blue, star-like eyes. Her hair was the color of ripe +corn--in a word, she was fair as Abigail and our Mother Rachel in one, +winning as Queen Esther, pious as Leah, and upright as our Grandmother +Sarah. + +But although the bride was beautiful, she found no fault with her +bridegroom; on the contrary, she esteemed it a great honor to have him +for a husband. All the Kabtzonivke girls envied her, and every +Kabtzonivke woman who was "expecting" desired with all her heart that +she might have such a son as Ezrielk. The reason is quite plain: First, +what true Jewish maiden looks for beauty in her bridegroom? Secondly, +our Ezrielk was as full of excellencies as a pomegranate is of seeds. + +His teachers had not broken his bones for nothing. The blows had been of +great and lasting good to him. Even before his wedding, Seinwill +Bassis's Ezrielk was deeply versed in the Law, and could solve the +hardest "questions," so that you might have made a Rabbi of him. He was, +moreover, a great scribe. His "in-honor-ofs," and his "blessed bes" were +known, not only in Kabtzonivke, but all over Kamenivke, and as for his +singing--! + +When Ezrielk began to sing, poor people forgot their hunger, thirst, and +need, the sick, their aches and pains, the Kabtzonivke Jews in general, +their bitter exile. + +He mostly sang unfamiliar tunes and whole "things." + +"Where do you get them, Ezrielk?" + +The little Ezrielk would open his eyes (he kept them shut while he +sang), his two big blue eyes, and answer wonderingly: + +"Don't you hear how everything sings?" + +After a little while, when Ezrielk had been singing so well and so +sweetly and so wonderfully that the Kabtzonivke Jews began to feel too +happy, people fell athinking, and they grew extremely uneasy and +disturbed in their minds: + +"It's not all so simple as it looks, there is something behind it. +Suppose a not-good one had introduced himself into the child (which God +forbid!)? It would do no harm to take him to the Aleskev Rebbe, long +life to him." + +As good luck would have it, the Hostre Rebbe came along just then to +Kabtzonivke, and, after all, Ezrielk belonged to _him_, he was born +through the merit of the Rebbe's miracle-working! So the Chassidim told +him the story. The Rebbe, long life to him, sent for him. Ezrielk came +and began to sing. The Rebbe listened a long, long time to his sweet +voice, which rang out like a hundred thousand crystal and gold bells +into every corner of the room. + +"Do not be alarmed, he may and he must sing. He gets his tunes there +where he got his soul." + +And Ezrielk sang cheerful tunes till he was ten years old, that is, till +he fell into the hands of the teacher Reb Yainkel Vittiss. + +Now, the end and object of Reb Yainkel's teaching was not merely that +his pupils should know a lot and know it well. Of course, we know that +the Jew only enters this sinful world in order that he may more or less +perfect himself, and that it is therefore needful he should, and, +indeed, he _must_, sit day and night over the Torah and the +Commentaries. Yainkel Vittiss's course of instruction began and ended +with trying to imbue his pupils with a downright, genuine, +Jewish-Chassidic enthusiasm. + +The first day Ezrielk entered his Cheder, Reb Yainkel lifted his long, +thick lashes, and began, while he gazed fixedly at him, to shake his +head, saying to himself: "No, no, he won't do like that. There is +nothing wrong with the vessel, a goodly vessel, only the wine is still +very sharp, and the ferment is too strong. He is too cocky, too lively +for me. A wonder, too, for he's been in good hands (tell me, weren't you +under both Moisheh-Yusis?), and it's a pity, when you come to think, +that such a goodly vessel should be wasted. Yes, he wants treating in +quite another way." + +And Yainkel Vittiss set himself seriously to the task of shaping and +working up Ezrielk. + +Reb Yainkel was not in the least concerned when he beat a pupil and the +latter cried and screamed at the top of his voice. He knew what he was +about, and was convinced that, when one beats and it hurts, even a +Jewish child (which must needs get used to blows) may cry and scream, +and the more the better; it showed that his method of instruction was +taking effect. And when he was thrashing Ezrielk, and the boy cried and +yelled, Reb Yainkel would tell him: "That's right, that's the way! Cry, +scream--louder still! That's the way to get a truly contrite Jewish +heart! You sing too merrily for me--a true Jew should weep even while he +sings." + +When Ezrielk came to be twelve years old, his teacher declared that he +might begin to recite the prayers in Shool before the congregation, as +he now had within him that which beseems a good Chassidic Jew. + +So Ezrielk began to davven in the Kabtzonivke Old Shool, and a crowd of +people, not only from Kabtzonivke, but even from Kamenivke and +Ebionivke, used to fill and encircle the Shool to hear him. + +Reb Yainkel was not mistaken, he knew what he was saying. Ezrielk was +indeed fit to davven: life and the joy of life had vanished from his +singing, and the terrorful weeping, the fearful wailing of a nation's +two thousand years of misfortune, might be heard and felt in his voice. + +Ezrielk was very weakly, and too young to lead the service often, but +what a stir he caused when he lifted up his voice in the Shool! + +Kabtzonivke, Kamenivke, and Ebionivke will never forget the first +U-mipné Chatoénu led by the twelve-year-old Ezrielk, standing before the +precentor's desk in a long, wide prayer-scarf. + +The men, women, and children who were listening inside and outside the +Old Shool felt a shudder go through them, their hair stood on end, and +their hearts wept and fluttered in their breasts. + +Ezrielk's voice wept and implored, "on account of our sins." + + * * * * * + +At the time when Ezrielk was distinguishing himself on this fashion with +his chanting, the Jewish doctor from Kamenivke happened to be in the +place. He saw the crowd round the Old Shool, and he went in. As you may +suppose, he was much longer in coming out. He was simply riveted to the +spot, and it is said that he rubbed his eyes more than once while he +listened and looked. On coming away, he told them to bring Ezrielk to +see him on the following day, saying that he wished to see him, and +would take no fee. + +Next day Ezrielk came with his mother to the doctor's house. + +"A blow has struck me! A thunder has killed me! Reb Yainkel, do you know +what the doctor said?" + +"You silly woman, don't scream so! He cannot have said anything bad +about Ezrielk. What is the matter? Did he hear him intone the Gemoreh, +or perhaps sing? Don't cry and lament like that!" + +"Reb Yainkel, what are you talking about? The doctor said that my +Ezrielk is in danger, that he's ill, that he hasn't a sound organ--his +heart, his lungs, are all sick. Every little bone in him is broken. He +mustn't sing or study--the bath will be his death--he must have a long +cure--he must be sent away for air. God (he said to me) has given you a +precious gift, such as Heaven and earth might envy. Will you go and bury +it with your own hands?" + +"And you were frightened and believed him? Nonsense! I've had Ezrielk in +my Cheder two years. Do I want _him_ to come and tell me what goes on +there? If _he_ were a really good doctor, and had one drop of Jewish +blood left in his veins, wouldn't he know that every true Jew has a sick +heart, a bad lung, broken bones, and deformed limbs, and is well and +strong in spite of it, because the holy Torah is the best medicine for +all sicknesses? Ha, ha, ha! And _he_ wants Ezrielk to give up learning +and the bath? Do you know what? Go home and send Ezrielk to Cheder at +once!" + +The Kamenivke doctor made one or two more attempts at alarming Ezrielk's +parents; he sent his assistant to them more than once, but it was no +use, for after what Reb Yainkel had said, nobody would hear of any +doctoring. + +So Ezrielk continued to study the Talmud and occasionally to lead the +service in Shool, like the Chassidic child he was, had a dip nearly +every morning in the bath-house, and at thirteen, good luck to him, he +was married. + +The Hostre Rebbe himself honored the wedding with his presence. The +Rebbe, long life to him, was fond of Ezrielk, almost as though he had +been his own child. The whole time the saint stayed in Kabtzonivke, +Kamenivke, and Ebionivke, Ezrielk had to be near him. + +When they told the Rebbe the story of the doctor, he remarked, "Ett! +what do _they_ know?" + +And Ezrielk continued to recite the prayers after his marriage, and to +sing as before, and was the delight of all who heard him. + +Agreeably to the marriage contract, Ezrielk and his Channehle had a +double right to board with their parents "forever"; when they were born +and the written engagements were filled in, each was an only child, and +both Reb Seinwill and Reb Selig undertook to board them "forever." True, +when the parents wedded their "one and only children," they had both of +them a houseful of little ones and no Parnosseh (they really hadn't!), +but they did not go back upon their word with regard to the "board +forever." + +Of course, it is understood that the two "everlasting boards" lasted +nearly one whole year, and Ezrielk and his wife might well give thanks +for not having died of hunger in the course of it, such a bad, bitter +year as it was for their poor parents. It was the year of the great +flood, when both Reb Seinwill Bassis and Reb Selig Tachshit had their +houses ruined. + +Ezrielk, Channehle, and their little son had to go and shift for +themselves. But the other inhabitants of Kabtzonivke, regardless of +this, now began to envy them in earnest: what other couple of their age, +with a child and without a farthing, could so easily make a livelihood +as they? + +Hardly had it come to the ears of the three towns that Ezrielk was +seeking a Parnosseh when they were all astir. All the Shools called +meetings, and sought for means and money whereby they might entice the +wonderful cantor and secure him for themselves. There was great +excitement in the Shools. Fancy finding in a little, thin Jewish lad all +the rare and precious qualities that go to make a great cantor! The +trustees of all the Shools ran about day and night, and a fierce war +broke out among them. + +The war raged five times twenty-four hours, till the Great Shool in +Kamenivke carried the day. Not one of the others could have dreamed of +offering him such a salary--three hundred rubles and everything found! + +"God is my witness"--thus Ezrielk opened his heart, as he sat afterwards +with the company of Hostre Chassidim over a little glass of +brandy--"that I find it very hard to leave our Old Shool, where my +grandfather and great-grandfather used to pray. Believe me, brothers, I +would not do it, only they give me one hundred and fifty rubles +earnest-money, and I want to pass it on to my father and father-in-law, +so that they may rebuild their houses. To your health, brothers! Drink +to my remaining an honest Jew, and wish that my head may not be turned +by the honor done to me!" + +And Ezrielk began to davven and to sing (again without a choir) in the +Great Shool, in the large town of Kamenivke. There he intoned the +prayers as he had never done before, and showed who Ezrielk was! The Old +Shool in Kabtzonivke had been like a little box for his voice. + +In those days Ezrielk and his household lived in happiness and plenty, +and he and Channehle enjoyed the respect and consideration of all men. +When Ezrielk led the service, the Shool was filled to overflowing, and +not only with Jews, even the richest Gentiles (I beg to distinguish!) +came to hear him, and wondered how such a small and weakly creature as +Ezrielk, with his thin chest and throat, could bring out such wonderful +tunes and whole compositions of his own! Money fell upon the lucky +couple, through circumcisions, weddings, and so on, like snow. Only one +thing began, little by little, to disturb their happiness: Ezrielk took +to coughing, and then to spitting blood. + +He used to complain that he often felt a kind of pain in his throat and +chest, but they did not consult a doctor. + +"What, a doctor?" fumed Reb Yainkel. "Nonsense! It hurts, does it? +Where's the wonder? A carpenter, a smith, a tailor, a shoemaker works +with his hands, and his hands hurt. Cantors and teachers and +match-makers work with their throat and chest, and _these_ hurt, they +are bound to do so. It is simply hemorrhoids." + +So Ezrielk went on intoning and chanting, and the Kamenivke Jews licked +their fingers, and nearly jumped out of their skin for joy when they +heard him. + +Two years passed in this way, and then came a change. + +It was early in the morning of the Fast of the Destruction of the +Temple, all the windows of the Great Shool were open, and all the +tables, benches, and desks had been carried out from the men's hall and +the women's hall the evening before. Men and women sat on the floor, so +closely packed a pin could not have fallen to the floor between them. +The whole street in which was the Great Shool was chuck full with a +terrible crowd of men, women, and children, although it just happened to +be cold, wet weather. The fact is, Ezrielk's Lamentations had long been +famous throughout the Jewish world in those parts, and whoever had ears, +a Jewish heart, and sound feet, came that day to hear him. The sad +epidemic disease that (not of our days be it spoken!) swallows men up, +was devastating Kamenivke and its surroundings that year, and everyone +sought a place and hour wherein to weep out his opprest and bitter +heart. + +Ezrielk also sat on the floor reciting Lamentations, but the man who sat +there was not the same Ezrielk, and the voice heard was not his. +Ezrielk, with his sugar-sweet, honeyed voice, had suddenly been +transformed into a strange being, with a voice that struck terror into +his hearers; the whole people saw, heard, and felt, how a strange +creature was flying about among them with a fiery sword in his hand. He +slashes, hews, and hacks at their hearts, and with a terrible voice he +cries out and asks: "Sinners! Where is your holy land that flowed with +milk and honey? Slaves! Where is your Temple? Accursed slaves! You sold +your freedom for money and calumny, for honors and worldly greatness!" + +The people trembled and shook and were all but entirely dissolved in +tears. "Upon Zion and her cities!" sang out once more Ezrielk's +melancholy voice, and suddenly something snapped in his throat, just as +when the strings of a good fiddle snap when the music is at its best. +Ezrielk coughed, and was silent. A stream of blood poured from his +throat, and he grew white as the wall. + +The doctor declared that Ezrielk had lost his voice forever, and would +remain hoarse for the rest of his life. + +"Nonsense!" persisted Reb Yainkel. "His voice is breaking--it's nothing +more!" + +"God will help!" was the comment of the Hostre saint. A whole year went +by, and Ezrielk's voice neither broke nor returned to him. The Hostre +Chassidim assembled in the house of Elkoneh the butcher to consider and +take counsel as to what Ezrielk should take to in order to earn a +livelihood for wife and children. They thought it over a long, long +time, talked and gave their several opinions, till they hit upon this: +Ezrielk had still one hundred and fifty rubles in store--let him spend +one hundred rubles on a house in Kabtzonivke, and begin to traffic with +the remainder. + +Thus Ezrielk became a trader. He began driving to fairs, and traded in +anything and everything capable of being bought or sold. + +Six months were not over before Ezrielk was out of pocket. He mortgaged +his property, and with the money thus obtained he opened a grocery shop +for Channehle. He himself (nothing satisfies a Jew!) started to drive +about in the neighborhood, to collect the contributions subscribed for +the maintenance of the Hostre Rebbe, long life to him! + +Ezrielk was five months on the road, and when, torn, worn, and +penniless, he returned home, he found Channehle brought to bed of her +fourth child, and the shop bare of ware and equally without a groschen. +But Ezrielk was now something of a trader, and is there any strait in +which a Jewish trader has not found himself? Ezrielk had soon disposed +of the whole of his property, paid his debts, rented a larger lodging, +and started trading in several new and more ambitious lines: he pickled +gherkins, cabbages, and pumpkins, made beet soup, both red and white, +and offered them for sale, and so on. It was Channehle again who had to +carry on most of the business, but, then, Ezrielk did not sit with his +hands in his pockets. Toward Passover he had Shmooreh Matzes; he baked +and sold them to the richest householders in Kamenivke, and before the +Solemn Days he, as an expert, tried and recommended cantors and +prayer-leaders for the Kamenivke Shools. When it came to Tabernacles, +he trafficked in citrons and "palms." + +For three years Ezrielk and his Channehle struggled at their trades, +working themselves nearly to death (of Zion's enemies be it spoken!), +till, with the help of Heaven, they came to be twenty years old. + +By this time Ezrielk and Channehle were the parents of four living and +two dead children. Channehle, the once so lovely Channehle, looked like +a beaten Hoshanah, and Ezrielk--you remember the picture drawn at the +time of his wedding?--well, then try to imagine what he was like now, +after those seven years we have described for you! It's true that he was +not spitting blood any more, either because Reb Yainkel had been right, +when he said that would pass away, or because there was not a drop of +blood in the whole of his body. + +So that was all right--only, how were they to live? Even Reb Yainkel and +all the Hostre Chassidim together could not tell him! + +The singing had raised him and lifted him off his feet, and let him +fall. And do you know why it was and how it was that everything Ezrielk +took to turned out badly? It was because the singing was always there, +in his head and his heart. He prayed and studied, singing. He bought and +sold, singing. He sang day and night. No one heard him, because he was +hoarse, but he sang without ceasing. Was it likely he would be a +successful trader, when he was always listening to what Heaven and earth +and everything around him were singing, too? He only wished he could +have been a slaughterer or a Rav (he was apt enough at study), only, +first, Rabbonim and slaughterers don't die every day, and, second, they +usually leave heirs to take their places; third, even supposing there +were no such heirs, one has to pay "privilege-money," and where is it to +come from? No, there was nothing to be done. Only God could and must +have pity on him and his wife and children, and help them somehow. + +Ezrielk struggled and fought his need hard enough those days. One good +thing for him was this--his being a Hostre Chossid; the Hostre +Chassidim, although they have been famed from everlasting as the direst +poor among the Jews, yet they divide their last mouthful with their +unfortunate brethren. But what can the gifts of mortal men, and of such +poor ones into the bargain, do in a case like Ezrielk's? And God alone +knows what bitter end would have been his, if Reb Shmuel Bär, the +Kabtzonivke scribe, had not just then (blessed be the righteous Judge!) +met with a sudden death. Our Ezrielk was not long in feeling that he, +and only he, should, and, indeed, must, step into Reb Shmuel's shoes. +Ezrielk had been an expert at the scribe's work for years and years. +Why, his father's house and the scribe's had been nearly under one roof, +and whenever Ezrielk, as a child, was let out of Cheder, he would go and +sit any length of time in Reb Shmuel's room (something in the occupation +attracted him) and watch him write. And the little Ezrielk had more than +once tried to make a piece of parchment out of a scrap of skin; and what +Jewish boy cannot prepare the veins that are used to sew the +phylacteries and the scrolls of the Law? Nor was the scribe's ink a +secret to Ezrielk. + +So Ezrielk became scribe in Kabtzonivke. + +Of course, he did not make a fortune. Reb Shmuel Bär, who had been a +scribe all his days, died a very poor man, and left a roomful of hungry, +half-naked children behind him, but then--what Jew, I ask you (or has +Messiah come?), ever expected to find a Parnosseh with enough, really +enough, to eat? + + + + +YITZCHOK-YOSSEL BROITGEBER + + +At the time I am speaking of, the above was about forty years old. He +was a little, thin Jew with a long face, a long nose, two large, black, +kindly eyes, and one who would sooner be silent and think than talk, no +matter what was being said to him. Even when he was scolded for +something (and by whom and when and for what was he _not_ scolded?), he +used to listen with a quiet, startled, but sweet smile, and his large, +kindly eyes would look at the other with such wonderment, mingled with a +sort of pity, that the other soon stopped short in his abuse, and stood +nonplussed before him. + +"There, you may talk! You might as well argue with a horse, or a donkey, +or the wall, or a log of wood!" and the other would spit and make off. + +But if anyone observed that smile attentively, and studied the look in +his eyes, he would, to a certainty, have read there as follows: + +"O man, man, why are you eating your heart out? Seeing that you don't +know, and that you don't understand, why do you undertake to tell me +what I ought to do?" + +And when he was obliged to answer, he used to do so in a few measured +and gentle words, as you would speak to a little, ignorant child, +smiling the while, and then he would disappear and start thinking again. + +They called him "breadwinner," because, no matter how hard the man +worked, he was never able to earn a living. He was a little tailor, but +not like the tailors nowadays, who specialize in one kind of garment, +for Yitzchok-Yossel made everything: trousers, cloaks, waistcoats, +top-coats, fur-coats, capes, collars, bags for prayer-books, "little +prayer-scarfs," and so on. Besides, he was a ladies' tailor as well. +Summer and winter, day and night, he worked like an ox, and yet, when +the Kabtzonivke community, at the time of the great cholera, in order to +put an end to the plague, led him, aged thirty, out to the cemetery, and +there married him to Malkeh the orphan, she cast him off two weeks +later! She was still too young (twenty-eight), she said, to stay with +him and die of hunger. She went out into the world, together with a +large band of poor, after the great fire that destroyed nearly the whole +town, and nothing more was heard of Malkeh the orphan from that day +forward. And Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber betook himself, with needle and +flat-iron, into the women's chamber in the New Shool, the community +having assigned it to him as a workroom. + +How came it about, you may ask, that so versatile a tailor as +Yitzchok-Yossel should be so poor? + +Well, if you do, it just shows you didn't know him! + +Wait and hear what I shall tell you. + +The story is on this wise: Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber was a tailor who +could make anything, and who made nothing at all, that is, since he +displayed his imagination in cutting out and sewing on the occasion I am +referring to, nobody would trust him. + +I can remember as if it were to-day what happened in Kabtzonivke, and +the commotion there was in the little town when Yitzchok-Yossel made Reb +Yecheskel the teacher a pair of trousers (begging your pardon!) of such +fantastic cut that the unfortunate teacher had to wear them as a vest, +though he was not then in need of one, having a brand new sheepskin not +more than three years old. + +And now listen! Binyomin Droibnik the trader's mother died (blessed be +the righteous Judge!), and her whole fortune went, according to the Law, +to her only son Binyomin. She had to be buried at the expense of the +community. If she was to be buried at all, it was the only way. But the +whole town was furious with the old woman for having cheated them out of +their expectations and taken her whole fortune away with her to the real +world. None knew exactly _why_, but it was confidently believed that old +"Aunt" Leah had heaps of treasure somewhere in hiding. + +It was a custom with us in Kabtzonivke to say, whenever anyone, man or +woman, lived long, ate sicknesses by the clock, and still did not die, +that it was a sign that he had in the course of his long life gathered +great store of riches, that somewhere in a cellar he kept potsful of +gold and silver. + +The Funeral Society, the younger members, had long been whetting their +teeth for "Aunt" Leah's fortune, and now she had died (may she merit +Paradise!) and had fooled them. + +"What about her money?" + +"A cow has flown over the roof and laid an egg!" + +In that same night Reb Binyomin's cow (a real cow) calved, and the +unfortunate consequence was that she died. The Funeral Society took the +calf, and buried "Aunt" Leah at its own expense. + +Well, money or no money, inheritance or no inheritance, Reb Binyomin's +old mother left him a quilt, a large, long, wide, wadded quilt. As an +article of house furniture, a quilt is a very useful thing, especially +in a house where there is a wife (no evil eye!) and a goodly number of +children, little and big. Who doesn't see that? It looks simple enough! +Either one keeps it for oneself and the two little boys (with whom Reb +Binyomin used to sleep), or else one gives it to the wife and the two +little girls (who also sleep all together), or, if not, then to the two +bigger boys or the two bigger girls, who repose on the two bench-beds in +the parlor and kitchen respectively. But this particular quilt brought +such perplexity into Reb Binyomin's rather small head that he (not of +you be it spoken!) nearly went mad. + +"Why I and not she? Why she and not I? Or they? Or the others? Why they +and not I? Why them and not us? Why the others and not them? Well, well, +what is all this fuss? What did we cover them with before?" + +Three days and three nights Reb Binyomin split his head and puzzled his +brains over these questions, till the Almighty had pity on his small +skull and feeble intelligence, and sent him a happy thought. + +"After all, it is an inheritance from one's one and only mother (peace +be upon her!), it is a thing from Thingland! I must adapt it to some +useful purpose, so that Heaven and earth may envy me its possession!" +And he sent to fetch Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, the tailor, who could +make every kind of garment, and said to him: + +"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, you see this article?" + +"I see it." + +"Yes, you see it, but do you understand it, really and truly understand +it?" + +"I think I do." + +"But do you know what this is, ha?" + +"A quilt." + +"Ha, ha, ha! A quilt? I could have told you that myself. But the stuff, +the material?" + +"It's good material, beautiful stuff." + +"Good material, beautiful stuff? No, I beg your pardon, you are not an +expert in this, you don't know the value of merchandise. The real +artisan, the true expert, would say: The material is light, soft, and +elastic, like a lung, a sound and healthy lung. The stuff--he would say +further--is firm, full, and smooth as the best calf's leather. And +durable? Why, it's a piece out of the heart of the strongest ox, or the +tongue of the Messianic ox itself! Do you know how many winters this +quilt has lasted already? But enough! That is not why I have sent for +you. We are neither of us, thanks to His blessed Name, do-nothings. The +long and short of it is this: I wish to make out of this--you understand +me?--out of this material, out of this piece of stuff, a thing, an +article, that shall draw everybody to it, a fruit that is worth saying +the blessing over, something superfine. An instance: what, for example, +tell me, what would you do, if I gave this piece of goods into your +hands, and said to you: Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, as you are (without sin be +it spoken!) an old workman, a good workman, and, besides that, a good +comrade, and a Jew as well, take this material, this stuff, and deal +with it as you think best. Only let it be turned into a sort of costume, +a sort of garment, so that not only Kabtzonivke, but all Kamenivke, +shall be bitten and torn with envy. Eh? What would you turn it into?" + +Yitzchok-Yossel was silent, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel went nearly out of his +mind, nearly fainted for joy at these last words. He grew pale as death, +white as chalk, then burning red like a flame of fire, and sparkled and +shone. And no wonder: Was it a trifle? All his life he had dreamed of +the day when he should be given a free hand in his work, so that +everyone should see who Yitzchok-Yossel is, and at the end came--the +trousers, Reb Yecheskel Melammed's trousers! How well, how cleverly he +had made them! Just think: trousers and upper garment in one! He had +been so overjoyed, he had felt so happy. So sure that now everyone would +know who Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber is! He had even begun to think and +wonder about Malkeh the orphan--poor, unfortunate orphan! Had she ever +had one single happy day in her life? Work forever and next to no food, +toil till she was exhausted and next to no drink, sleep where she could +get it: one time in Elkoneh the butcher's kitchen, another time in +Yisroel Dintzis' attic ... and when at last she got married (good luck +to her!), she became the wife of Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber! And the +wedding took place in the burial-ground. On one side they were digging +graves, on the other they were bringing fresh corpses. There was weeping +and wailing, and in the middle of it all, the musicians playing and +fiddling and singing, and the relations dancing!... Good luck! Good +luck! The orphan and her breadwinner are being led to the marriage +canopy in the graveyard! + +He will never forget with what gusto, she, his bride, the first night +after their wedding, ate, drank, and slept--the whole of the +wedding-supper that had been given them, bridegroom and bride: a nice +roll, a glass of brandy, a tea-glass full of wine, and a heaped-up plate +of roast meat was cut up and scraped together and eaten (no evil eye!) +by _her_, by the bride herself. He had taken great pleasure in watching +her face. He had known her well from childhood, and had no need to look +at her to know what she was like, but he wanted to see what kind of +feelings her face would express during this occupation. When they led +him into the bridal chamber--she was already there--the companions of +the bridegroom burst into a shout of laughter, for the bride was already +snoring. He knew quite well why she had gone to sleep so quickly and +comfortably. Was there not sufficient reason? For the first time in her +life she had made a good meal and lain down in a bed with bedclothes! + +The six groschen candle burnt, the flies woke and began to buzz, the +mills clapt, and swung, and groaned, and he, Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, +the bridegroom, sat beside the bridal bed on a little barrel of pickled +gherkins, and looked at Malkeh the orphan, his bride, his wife, listened +to her loud thick snores, and thought. + +The town dogs howled strangely. Evidently the wedding in the cemetery +had not yet driven away the Angel of Death. From some of the +neighboring houses came a dreadful crying and screaming of women and +children. + +Malkeh the orphan heard nothing. She slept sweetly, and snored as loud +(I beg to distinguish!) as Caspar, the tall, stout miller, the owner of +both mills. + +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber sits on the little barrel, looks at her face, +and thinks. Her face is dark, roughened, and nearly like that of an old +woman. A great, fat fly knocked against the wick, the candle suddenly +began to burn brighter, and Yitzchok-Yossel saw her face become +prettier, younger, and fresher, and overspread by a smile. That was all +the effect of the supper and the soft bed. Then it was that he had +promised himself, that he had sworn, once and for all, to show the +Kabtzonivke Jews who he is, and then Malkeh the orphan will have food +and a bed every day. He would have done this long ago, had it not been +for those trousers. The people are so silly, they don't understand! That +is the whole misfortune! And it's quite the other way about: let someone +else try and turn out such an ingenious contrivance! But because it was +he, and not someone else, they laughed and made fun of him. How Reb +Yecheskel, his wife and children, did abuse him! That was his reward for +all his trouble. And just because they themselves are cattle, horses, +boors, who don't understand the tailor's art! Ha, if only they +understood that tailoring is a noble, refined calling, limitless and +bottomless as (with due distinction!) the holy Torah! + +But all is not lost. Who knows? For here comes Binyomin Droibnik, an +intelligent man, a man of brains and feeling. And think how many years +he has been a trader! A retail trader, certainly, a jobber, but still-- + +"Come, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, make an end! What will you turn it into?" + +"Everything." + +"That is to say?" + +"A dressing-gown for your Dvoshke,--" + +"And then?" + +"A morning-gown with tassels,--" + +"After that?" + +"A coat." + +"Well?" + +"A dress--" + +"And besides that?" + +"A pair of trousers and a jacket--" + +"Nothing more?" + +"Why not? A--" + +"For instance?" + +"Pelisse, a wadded winter pelisse for you." + +"There, there! Just that, and only that!" said Reb Binyomin, delighted. + +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber tucked away the quilt under his arm, and was +preparing to be off. + +"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! And what about taking my measure? And how about +your charge?" + +Yitzchok-Yossel dearly loved to take anyone's measure, and was an expert +at so doing. He had soon pulled a fair-sized sheet of paper out of one +of his deep pockets, folded it into a long paper stick, and begun to +measure Reb Binyomin Droibnik's limbs. He did not even omit to note the +length and breadth of his feet. + +"What do you want with that? Are you measuring me for trousers?" + +"Ett, don't you ask! No need to teach a skilled workman his trade!" + +"And what about the charge?" + +"We shall settle that later." + +"No, that won't do with me; I am a trader, you understand, and must have +it all pat." + +"Five gulden." + +"And how much less?" + +"How should I know? Well, four." + +"Well, and half a ruble?" + +"Well, well--" + +"Remember, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, it must be a masterpiece!" + +"Trust me!" + + * * * * * + +For five days and five nights Yitzchok-Yossel set his imagination to +work on Binyomin Droibnik's inheritance. There was no eating for him, no +drinking, and no sleeping. The scissors squeaked, the needle ran hither +and thither, up and down, the inheritance sighed and almost sobbed under +the hot iron. But how happy was Yitzchok-Yossel those lightsome days and +merry nights? Who could compare with him? Greater than the Kabtzonivke +village elder, richer than Yisroel Dintzis, the tax-gatherer, and more +exalted than the bailiff himself was Yitzchok-Yossel, that is, in his +own estimation. All that he wished, thought, and felt was forthwith +created by means of his scissors and iron, his thimble, needle, and +cotton. No more putting on of patches, sewing on of pockets, cutting +out of "Tefillin-Säcklech" and "little prayer-scarfs," no more doing up +of old dresses. Freedom, freedom--he wanted one bit of work of the right +sort, and that was all! Ha, now he would show them, the Kabtzonivke +cripples and householders, now he would show them who Yitzchok-Yossel +Broitgeber is! They would not laugh at him or tease him any more! His +fame would travel from one end of the world to the other, and Malkeh the +orphan, his bride, his wife, she also would hear of it, and-- + +She will come back to him! He feels it in every limb. It was not him she +cast off, only his bad luck. He will rent a lodging (money will pour in +from all sides)--buy a little furniture: a bed, a sofa, a table--in time +he will buy a little house of his own--she will come, she has been +homeless long enough--it is time she should rest her weary, aching +bones--it is high time she should have her own corner! + +She will come back, he feels it, she will certainly come home! + +The last night! The work is complete. Yitzchok-Yossel spread it out on +the table of the women's Shool, lighted a second groschen candle, sat +down in front of it with wide open, sparkling eyes, gazed with delight +at the product of his imagination and--was wildly happy! + +So he sat the whole night. + +It was very hard for him to part with his achievement, but hardly was it +day when he appeared with it at Reb Binyomin Droibnik's. + +"A good morning, a good year, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! I see by your eyes +that you have been successful. Is it true?" + +"You can see for yourself, there--" + +"No, no, there is no need for me to see it first. Dvoshke, Cheike, +Shprintze, Dovid-Hershel, Yitzchok-Yoelik! You understand, I want them +all to be present and see." + +In a few minutes the whole family had appeared on the scene. Even the +four little ones popped up from behind the heaps of ragged covering. + +Yitzchok-Yossel untied his parcel and-- + +"_Wuus is duuuusss???!!!_" + +"A pair of trousers with sleeves!" + + + + +JUDAH STEINBERG + + +Born, 1863, in Lipkany, Bessarabia; died, 1907, in Odessa; education +Hasidic; entered business in a small Roumanian village for a short time; +teacher, from 1889 in Jedency and from 1896 in Leowo, Bessarabia; +removed to Odessa, in 1905, to become correspondent of New York Warheit; +writer of fables, stories, and children's tales in Hebrew, and poems in +Yiddish; historical drama, Ha-Sotah; collected works in Hebrew, 3 vols., +Cracow, 1910-1911 (in course of publication). + + + + +A LIVELIHOOD + + +The two young fellows Maxim Klopatzel and Israel Friedman were natives +of the same town in New Bessarabia, and there was an old link existing +between them: a mutual detestation inherited from their respective +parents. Maxim's father was the chief Gentile of the town, for he rented +the corn-fields of its richest inhabitant; and as the lawyer of the rich +citizen was a Jew, little Maxim imagined, when his father came to lose +his tenantry, that it was owing to the Jews. Little Struli was the only +Jewish boy he knew (the children were next door neighbors), and so a +large share of their responsibility was laid on Struli's shoulders. +Later on, when Klopatzel, the father, had abandoned the plough and taken +to trade, he and old Friedman frequently came in contact with each other +as rivals. + +They traded and traded, and competed one against the other, till they +both become bankrupt, when each argued to himself that the other was at +the bottom of his misfortune--and their children grew on in mutual +hatred. + +A little later still, Maxim put down to Struli's account part of the +nails which were hammered into his Savior, over at the other end of the +town, by the well, where the Government and the Church had laid out +money and set up a crucifix with a ladder, a hammer, and all other +necessary implements. + +And Struli, on his part, had an account to settle with Maxim respecting +certain other nails driven in with hammers, and torn scrolls of the +Law, and the history of the ten martyrs of the days of Titus, not to +mention a few later ones. + +Their hatred grew with them, its strength increased with theirs. + +When Krushevan began to deal in anti-Semitism, Maxim learned that +Christian children were carried off into the Shool, Struli's Shool, for +the sake of their blood. + +Thenceforth Maxim's hatred of Struli was mingled with fear. He was +terrified when he passed the Shool at night, and he used to dream that +Struli stood over him in a prayer robe, prepared to slaughter him with a +ram's horn trumpet. + +This because he had once passed the Shool early one Jewish New Year's +Day, had peeped through the window, and seen the ram's horn blower +standing in his white shroud, armed with the Shofar, and suddenly a +heartrending voice broke out with Min ha-Mezar, and Maxim, taking his +feet on his shoulders, had arrived home more dead than alive. There was +very nearly a commotion. The priest wanted to persuade him that the Jews +had tried to obtain his blood. + +So the two children grew into youth as enemies. Their fathers died, and +the increased difficulties of their position increased their enmity. + +The same year saw them called to military service, from which they had +both counted on exemption as the only sons of widowed mothers; only +Israel's mother had lately died, bequeathing to the Czar all she had--a +soldier; and Maxim's mother had united herself to a second +provider--and there was an end of the two "only sons!" + +Neither of them wished to serve; they were too intellectually capable, +too far developed mentally, too intelligent, to be turned all at once +into Russian soldiers, and too nicely brought up to march from Port +Arthur to Mukden with only one change of shirt. They both cleared out, +and stowed themselves away till they 'fell separately into the hands of +the military. + +They came together again under the fortress walls of Mukden. + +They ate and hungered sullenly round the same cooking pot, received +punches from the same officer, and had the same longing for the same +home. + +Israel had a habit of talking in his sleep, and, like a born +Bessarabian, in his Yiddish mixed with a large portion of Roumanian +words. + +One night, lying in the barracks among the other soldiers, and sunk in +sleep after a hard day, Struli began to talk sixteen to the dozen. He +called out names, he quarrelled, begged pardon, made a fool of +himself--all in his sleep. + +It woke Maxim, who overheard the homelike names and phrases, the name of +his native town. + +He got up, made his way between the rows of sleepers, and sat down by +Israel's pallet, and listened. + +Next day Maxim managed to have a large helping of porridge, more than he +could eat, and he found Israel, and set it before him. + +"Maltzimesk!" said the other, thanking him in Roumanian, and a thrill of +delight went through Maxim's frame. + +The day following, Maxim was hit by a Japanese bullet, and there +happened to be no one beside him at the moment. + +The shock drove all the soldier-speech out of his head. "Help, I am +killed!" he called out, and fell to the ground. + +Struli was at his side like one sprung from the earth, he tore off his +Four-Corners, and made his comrade a bandage. + +The wound turned out to be slight, for the bullet had passed through, +only grazing the flesh of the left arm. A few days later Maxim was back +in the company. + +"I wanted to see you again, Struli," he said, greeting his comrade in +Roumanian. + +A flash of brotherly affection and gratitude lighted Struli's Semitic +eyes, and he took the other into his arms, and pressed him to his heart. + +They felt themselves to be "countrymen," of one and the same native +town. + +Neither of them could have told exactly when their union of spirit had +been accomplished, but each one knew that he thanked God for having +brought him together with so near a compatriot in a strange land. + +And when the battle of Mukden had made Maxim all but totally blind, and +deprived Struli of one foot, they started for home together, according +to the passage in the Midrash, "Two men with one pair of eyes and one +pair of feet between them." Maxim carried on his shoulders a wooden box, +which had now became a burden in common for them, and Struli limped a +little in front of him, leaning lightly against his companion, so as to +keep him in the smooth part of the road and out of other people's way. + +Struli had become Maxim's eyes, and Maxim, Struli's feet; they were two +men grown into one, and they provided for themselves out of one pocket, +now empty of the last ruble. + +They dragged themselves home. "A kasa, a kasa!" whispered Struli into +Maxim's ear, and the other turned on him his two glazed eyes looking +through a red haze, and set in swollen red lids. + +A childlike smile played on his lips: + +"A kasa, a kasa!" he repeated, also in a whisper. + +Home appeared to their fancy as something holy, something consoling, +something that could atone and compensate for all they had suffered and +lost. They had seen such a home in their dreams. + +But the nearer they came to it in reality, the more the dream faded. +They remembered that they were returning as conquered soldiers and +crippled men, that they had no near relations and but few friends, while +the girls who had coquetted with Maxim before he left would never waste +so much as a look on him now he was half-blind; and Struli's plans for +marrying and emigrating to America were frustrated: a cripple would not +be allowed to enter the country. + +All their dreams and hopes finally dissipated, and there remained only +one black care, one all-obscuring anxiety: how were they to earn a +living? + +They had been hoping all the while for a pension, but in their service +book was written "on sick-leave." The Russo-Japanese war was +distinguished by the fact that the greater number of wounded soldiers +went home "on sick-leave," and the money assigned by the Government for +their pension would not have been sufficient for even a hundredth part +of the number of invalids. + +Maxim showed a face with two wide open eyes, to which all the passers-by +looked the same. He distinguished with difficulty between a man and a +telegraph post, and wore a smile of mingled apprehension and confidence. +The sound feet stepped hesitatingly, keeping behind Israel, and it was +hard to say which steadied himself most against the other. Struli limped +forward, and kept open eyes for two. Sometimes he would look round at +the box on Maxim's shoulders, as though he felt its weight as much as +Maxim. + +Meantime the railway carriages had emptied and refilled, and the +locomotive gave a great blast, received an answer from somewhere a long +way off, a whistle for a whistle, and the train set off, slowly at +first, and then gradually faster and faster, till all that remained of +it were puffs of smoke hanging in the air without rhyme or reason. + +The two felt more depressed than ever. "Something to eat? Where are we +to get a bite?" was in their minds. + +Suddenly Yisroel remembered with a start: this was the anniversary of +his mother's death--if he could only say one Kaddish for her in a Klaus! + +"Is it far from here to a Klaus?" he inquired of a passer-by. + +"There is one a little way down that side-street," was the reply. + +"Maxim!" he begged of the other, "come with me!" + +"Where to?" + +"To the synagogue." + +Maxim shuddered from head to foot. His fear of a Jewish Shool had not +left him, and a thousand foolish terrors darted through his head. + +But his comrade's voice was so gentle, so childishly imploring, that he +could not resist it, and he agreed to go with him into the Shool. + +It was the time for Afternoon Prayer, the daylight and the dark held +equal sway within the Klaus, the lamps before the platform increasing +the former to the east and the latter to the west. Maxim and Yisroel +stood in the western part, enveloped in shadow. The Cantor had just +finished "Incense," and was entering upon Ashré, and the melancholy +night chant of Minchah and Maariv gradually entranced Maxim's emotional +Roumanian heart. + +The low, sad murmur of the Cantor seemed to him like the distant surging +of a sea, in which men were drowned by the hundreds and suffocating with +the water. Then, the Ashré and the Kaddish ended, there was silence. The +congregation stood up for the Eighteen Benedictions. Here and there you +heard a half-stifled sigh. And now it seemed to Maxim that he was in the +hospital at night, at the hour when the groans grow less frequent, and +the sufferers fall one by one into a sweet sleep. + +Tears started into his eyes without his knowing why. He was no longer +afraid, but a sudden shyness had come over him, and he felt, as he +watched Yisroel repeating the Kaddish, that the words, which he, Maxim, +could not understand, were being addressed to someone unseen, and yet +mysteriously present in the darkening Shool. + +When the prayers were ended, one of the chief members of the +congregation approached the "Mandchurian," and gave Yisroel a coin into +his hand. + +Yisroel looked round--he did not understand at first what the donor +meant by it. + +Then it occurred to him--and the blood rushed to his face. He gave the +coin to his companion, and explained in a half-sentence or two how they +had come by it. + +Once outside the Klaus, they both cried, after which they felt better. + +"A livelihood!" the same thought struck them both. + +"We can go into partnership!" + + + + +AT THE MATZES + + +It was quite early in the morning, when Sossye, the scribe's daughter, a +girl of seventeen, awoke laughing; a sunbeam had broken through the +rusty window, made its way to her underneath the counterpane, and there +opened her eyes. + +It woke her out of a deep dream which she was ashamed to recall, but the +dream came back to her of itself, and made her laugh. + +Had she known whom she was going to meet in her dreams, she would have +lain down in her clothes, occurs to her, and she laughs aloud. + +"Got up laughing!" scolds her mother. "There's a piece of good luck for +you! It's a sign of a black year for her (may it be to my enemies!)." + +Sossye proceeds to dress herself. She does not want to fall out with her +mother to-day, she wants to be on good terms with everyone. + +In the middle of dressing she loses herself in thought, with one naked +foot stretched out and an open stocking in her hands, wondering how the +dream would have ended, if she had not awoke so soon. + +Chayyimel, a villager's son, who boards with her mother, passes the open +doors leading to Sossye's room, and for the moment he is riveted to the +spot. His eyes dance, the blood rushes to his cheeks, he gets all he can +by looking, and then hurries away to Cheder without his breakfast, to +study the Song of Songs. + +And Sossye, fresh and rosy from sleep, her brown eyes glowing under the +tumbled gold locks, betakes herself to the kitchen, where her mother, +with her usual worried look, is blowing her soul out before the oven +into a smoky fire of damp wood. + +"Look at the girl standing round like a fool! Run down to the cellar, +and fetch me an onion and some potatoes!" + +Sossye went down to the cellar, and found the onions and potatoes +sprouting. + +At sight of a green leaf, her heart leapt. Greenery! greenery! summer is +coming! And the whole of her dream came back to her! + +"Look, mother, green sprouts!" she cried, rushing into the kitchen. + +"A thousand bad dreams on your head! The onions are spoilt, and she +laughs! My enemies' eyes will creep out of their lids before there will +be fresh greens to eat, and all this, woe is me, is only fit to throw +away!" + +"Greenery, greenery!" thought Sossye, "summer is coming!" + +Greenery had got into her head, and there it remained, and from greenery +she went on to remember that to-day was the first Passover-cake baking +at Gedalyeh the baker's, and that Shloimeh Shieber would be at work +there. + +Having begged of her mother the one pair of boots that stood about in +the room and fitted everyone, she put them on, and was off to the +Matzes. + +It was, as we have said, the first day's work at Gedalyeh the baker's, +and the sack of Passover flour had just been opened. Gravely, the +flour-boy, a two weeks' orphan, carried the pot of flour for the +Mehereh, and poured it out together with remembrances of his mother, who +had died in the hospital of injuries received at _their_ hands, and the +water-boy came up behind him, and added recollections of his own. + +"The hooligans threw his father into the water off the bridge--may they +pay for it, süsser Gott! May they live till he is a man, and can settle +his account with them!" + +Thus the grey-headed old Henoch, the kneader, and he kneaded it all into +the dough, with thoughts of his own grandchildren: this one fled abroad, +the other in the regiment, and a third in prison. + +The dough stiffens, the horny old hands work it with difficulty. The +dough gets stiffer every year, and the work harder, it is time for him +to go to the asylum! + +The dough is kneaded, cut up in pieces, rolled and riddled--is that a +token for the whole Congregation of Israel? And now appear the round +Matzes, which must wander on a shovel into the heated oven of Shloimeh +Shieber, first into one corner, and then into another, till another +shovel throws them out into a new world, separated from the old by a +screen thoroughly scoured for Passover, which now rises and now falls. +There they are arranged in columns, a reminder of Pithom and Rameses. +Kuk-ruk, kuk-ruk, ruk-ruk, whisper the still warm Matzes one to another; +they also are remembering, and they tell the tale of the Exodus after +their fashion, the tale of the flight out of Egypt--only they have seen +more flights than one. + +Thus are the Matzes kneaded and baked by the Jews, with "thoughts." The +Gentiles call them "blood," and assert that Jews need blood for their +Matzes, and they take the trouble to supply us with fresh "thoughts" +every year! + +But at Gedalyeh the baker's all is still cheerfulness. Girls and boys, +in their unspent vigor, surround the tables, there is rolling and +riddling and cleaning of clean rolling-pins with pieces of broken glass +(from where ever do Jews get so much broken glass?), and the whole town +is provided with kosher Matzes. Jokes and silver trills escape the +lively young workers, the company is as merry as though the Exodus were +to-morrow. + +But it won't be to-morrow. Look at them well, because another day you +will not find them so merry, they will not seem like the same. + +One of the likely lads has left his place, and suddenly appeared at a +table beside a pretty, curly-haired girl. He has hurried over his +Matzes, and now he wants to help her. + +She thanks him for his attention with a rolling-pin over the fingers, +and there is such laughter among the spectators that Berke, the old +overseer, exclaims, "What impertinence!" + +But he cannot finish, because he has to laugh himself. There is a spark +in the embers of his being which the girlish merriment around him +kindles anew. + +And the other lads are jealous of the beaten one. They know very well +that no girl would hit a complete stranger, and that the blow only +meant, "Impudent boy, why need the world know of anything between us?" + +Shloimehle Shieber, armed with the shovels, stands still for a minute +trying to distinguish Sossye's voice in the peals of laughter. The +Matzes under his care are browning in the oven. + +And Sossye takes it into her head to make her Matzes with one pointed +corner, so that he may perhaps know them for hers, and laughs to herself +as she does so. + +There is one table to the side of the room which was not there last +year; it was placed there for the formerly well-to-do housemistresses, +who last year, when they came to bake their Matzes, gave Yom-tov money +to the others. Here all goes on quietly; the laughter of the merry +people breaks against the silence, and is swallowed up. + +The work grows continually pleasanter and more animated. The riddler +stamps two or three Matzes with hieroglyphs at once, in order to show +off. Shloimeh at the oven cannot keep pace with him, and grows angry: + +"May all bad...." + +The wish is cut short in his mouth, he has caught a glance of Sossye's +through the door of the baking-room, he answers with two, gets three +back, Sossye pursing her lips to signify a kiss. Shloimeh folds his +hands, which also means something. + +Meantime ten Matzes get scorched, and one of Sossye's is pulled in two. +"Brennen brennt mir mein Harz," starts a worker singing in a plaintive +key. + +"Come! hush, hush!" scolds old Berke. "Songs, indeed! What next, you +impudent boy?" + +"My sorrows be on their head!" sighs a neighbor of Sossye's. "They'd +soon be tired of their life, if they were me. I've left two children at +home fit to scream their hearts out. The other is at the breast, I have +brought it along. It is quiet just now, by good luck." + +"What is the use of a poor woman's having children?" exclaims another, +evidently "expecting" herself. Indeed, she has a child a year--and a +seven-days' mourning a year afterwards. + +"Do you suppose I ask for them? Do you think I cry my eyes out for them +before God?" + +"If she hasn't any, who's to inherit her place at the Matzes-baking--a +hundred years hence?" + +"All very well for you to talk, _you're_ a grass-widow (to no Jewish +daughter may it apply!)!" + +"May such a blow be to my enemies as he'll surely come back again!" + +"It's about time! After three years!" + +"Will you shut up, or do you want another beating?" + +Sossye went off into a fresh peal of laughter, and the shovel fell out +of Shloimeh's hand. + +Again he caught a glance, but this time she wrinkled her nose at him, as +much as to say, "Fie, you shameless boy! Can't you behave yourself even +before other people?" + +Hereupon the infant gave account of itself in a small, shrill voice, and +the general commotion went on increasing. The overseer scolded, the +Matzes-printing-wheel creaked and squeaked, the bits of glass were +ground against the rolling-pins, there was a humming of songs and a +proclaiming of secrets, followed by bursts of laughter, Sossye's voice +ringing high above the rest. + +And the sun shone into the room through the small window--a white spot +jumped around and kissed everyone there. + +Is it the Spirit of Israel delighting in her young men and maidens and +whispering in their ears: "What if it _is_ Matzes-kneading, and what if +it _is_ Exile? Only let us be all together, only let us all be merry!" + +Or is it the Spring, transformed into a white patch of sunshine, in +which all have equal share, and which has not forgotten to bring good +news into the house of Gedalyeh the Matzeh-baker? + +A beautiful sun was preparing to set, and promised another fine day for +the morrow. + +"Ding-dong, gul-gul-gul-gul-gul-gul!" + +It was the convent bells calling the Christians to confession! + +All tongues were silenced round the tables at Gedalyeh the baker's. + +A streak of vapor dimmed the sun, and gloomy thoughts settled down upon +the hearts of the workers. + +"Easter! _Their_ Easter is coming on!" and mothers' eyes sought their +children. + +The white patch of sunshine suddenly gave a terrified leap across the +ceiling and vanished in a corner. + +"Kik-kik, kik-rik, kik-rik," whispered the hot Matzes. Who is to know +what they say? + +Who can tell, now that the Jews have baked this year's Matzes, how soon +_they_ will set about providing them with material for the +next?--"thoughts," and broken glass for the rolling-pins. + + + + +DAVID FRISCHMANN + + +Born, 1863, in Lodz, Russian Poland, of a family of merchants; +education, Jewish and secular, the latter with special attention to +foreign languages and literatures; has spent most of his life in Warsaw; +Hebrew critic, editor, poet, satirist, and writer of fairy tales; +translator of George Eliot's Daniel Deronda into Hebrew; contributor to +Sholom-Alechem's Jüdische Volksbibliothek, Spektor's Hausfreund, and +various periodicals; editor of monthly publication Reshafim; collected +works in Hebrew, Ketabim Nibharim, 2 vols., Warsaw, 1899-1901, and +Reshimot, 4 parts, Warsaw, 1911. + + + + +THREE WHO ATE + + +Once upon a time three people ate. I recall the event as one recalls a +dream. Black clouds obscure the men, because it happened long ago. + +Only sometimes it seems to me that there are no clouds, but a pillar of +fire lighting up the men and their doings, and the fire grows bigger and +brighter, and gives light and warmth to this day. + +I have only a few words to tell you, two or three words: once upon a +time three people ate. Not on a workday or an ordinary Sabbath, but on a +Day of Atonement that fell on a Sabbath. + +Not in a corner where no one sees or hears, but before all the people in +the great Shool, in the principal Shool of the town. + +Neither were they ordinary men, these three, but the chief Jews of the +community: the Rabbi and his two Dayonim. + +The townsfolk looked up to them as if they had been angels, and +certainly held them to be saints. And now, as I write these words, I +remember how difficult it was for me to understand, and how I sometimes +used to think the Rabbi and his Dayonim had done wrong. But even then I +felt that they were doing a tremendous thing, that they were holy men +with holy instincts, and that it was not easy for them to act thus. Who +knows how hard they fought with themselves, who knows how they +suffered, and what they endured? + +And even if I live many years and grow old, I shall never forget the day +and the men, and what was done on it, for they were no ordinary men, but +great heroes. + +Those were bitter times, such as had not been for long, and such as will +not soon return. + +A great calamity had descended on us from Heaven, and had spread abroad +among the towns and over the country: the cholera had broken out. + +The calamity had reached us from a distant land, and entered our little +town, and clutched at young and old. + +By day and by night men died like flies, and those who were left hung +between life and death. + +Who can number the dead who were buried in those days! Who knows the +names of the corpses which lay about in heaps in the streets! + +In the Jewish street the plague made great ravages: there was not a +house where there lay not one dead--not a family in which the calamity +had not broken out. + +In the house where we lived, on the second floor, nine people died in +one day. In the basement there died a mother and four children, and in +the house opposite we heard wild cries one whole night through, and in +the morning we became aware that there was no one left in it alive. + +The grave-diggers worked early and late, and the corpses lay about in +the streets like dung. They stuck one to the other like clay, and one +walked over dead bodies. + +The summer broke up, and there came the Solemn Days, and then the most +dreadful day of all--the Day of Atonement. + +I shall remember that day as long as I live. + +The Eve of the Day of Atonement--the reciting of Kol Nidré! + +At the desk before the ark there stands, not as usual the precentor and +two householders, but the Rabbi and his two Dayonim. + +The candles are burning all round, and there is a whispering of the +flames as they grow taller and taller. The people stand at their +reading-desks with grave faces, and draw on the robes and prayer-scarfs, +the Spanish hoods and silver girdles; and their shadows sway this way +and that along the walls, and might be the ghosts of the dead who died +to-day and yesterday and the day before yesterday. Evidently they could +not rest in their graves, and have also come into the Shool. + +Hush!... the Rabbi has begun to say something, and the Dayonim, too, and +a groan rises from the congregation. + +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed." + +And a great fear fell upon me and upon all the people, young and old. In +that same moment I saw the Rabbi mount the platform. Is he going to +preach? Is he going to lecture the people at a time when they are +falling dead like flies? But the Rabbi neither preached nor lectured. He +only called to remembrance the souls of those who had died in the +course of the last few days. But how long it lasted! How many names he +mentioned! The minutes fly one after the other, and the Rabbi has not +finished! Will the list of souls never come to an end? Never? And it +seems to me the Rabbi had better call out the names of those who are +left alive, because they are few, instead of the names of the dead, who +are without number and without end. + +I shall never forget that night and the praying, because it was not +really praying, but one long, loud groan rising from the depth of the +human heart, cleaving the sky and reaching to Heaven. Never since the +world began have Jews prayed in greater anguish of soul, never have +hotter tears fallen from human eyes. + +_That_ night no one left the Shool. + +After the prayers they recited the Hymn of Unity, and after that the +Psalms, and then chapters from the Mishnah, and then ethical books.... + +And I also stand among the congregation and pray, and my eyelids are +heavy as lead, and my heart beats like a hammer. + +"U-Malochim yechofézun--and the angels fly around." + +And I fancy I see them flying in the Shool, up and down, up and down. +And among them I see the bad angel with the thousand eyes, full of eyes +from head to feet. + +That night no one left the Shool, but early in the morning there were +some missing--two of the congregation had fallen during the night, and +died before our eyes, and lay wrapped in their prayer-scarfs and white +robes--nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead. + +They kept on bringing messages into the Shool from the Gass, but nobody +wanted to listen or to ask questions, lest he should hear what had +happened in his own house. No matter how long I live, I shall never +forget that night, and all I saw and heard. + +But the Day of Atonement, the day that followed, was more awful still. + +And even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole picture, and I think +I am standing once more among the people in the Shool. + +It is Atonement Day in the afternoon. + +The Rabbi stands on the platform in the centre of the Shool, tall and +venerable, and there is a fascination in his noble features. And there, +in the corner of the Shool, stands a boy who never takes his eyes off +the Rabbi's face. + +In truth I never saw a nobler figure. + +The Rabbi is old, seventy or perhaps eighty years, but tall and straight +as a fir-tree. His long beard is white like silver, but the thick, long +hair of his head is whiter still, and his face is blanched, and his lips +are pale, and only his large black eyes shine and sparkle like the eyes +of a young lion. + +I stood in awe of him when I was a little child. I knew he was a man of +God, one of the greatest authorities in the Law, whose advice was sought +by the whole world. + +I knew also that he inclined to leniency in all his decisions, and that +none dared oppose him. + +The sight I saw that day in Shool is before my eyes now. + +The Rabbi stands on the platform, and his black eyes gleam and shine in +the pale face and in the white hair and beard. + +The Additional Service is over, and the people are waiting to hear what +the Rabbi will say, and one is afraid to draw one's breath. + +And the Rabbi begins to speak. + +His weak voice grows stronger and higher every minute, and at last it is +quite loud. + +He speaks of the sanctity of the Day of Atonement and of the holy Torah; +of repentance and of prayer, of the living and of the dead, and of the +pestilence that has broken out and that destroys without pity, without +rest, without a pause--for how long? for how much longer? + +And by degrees his pale cheeks redden and his lips also, and I hear him +say: "And when trouble comes to a man, he must look to his deeds, and +not only to those which concern him and the Almighty, but to those which +concern himself, to his body, to his flesh, to his own health." + +I was a child then, but I remember how I began to tremble when I heard +these words, because I had understood. + +The Rabbi goes on speaking. He speaks of cleanliness and wholesome air, +of dirt, which is dangerous to man, and of hunger and thirst, which are +men's bad angels when there is a pestilence about, devouring without +pity. + +And the Rabbi goes on to say: + +"And men shall live by My commandments, and not die by them. There are +times when one must turn aside from the Law, if by so doing a whole +community may be saved." + +I stand shaking with fear. What does the Rabbi want? What does he mean +by his words? What does he think to accomplish? And suddenly I see that +he is weeping, and my heart beats louder and louder. What has happened? +Why does he weep? And there I stand in the corner, in the silence, and I +also begin to cry. + +And to this day, if I shut my eyes, I see him standing on the platform, +and he makes a sign with his hand to the two Dayonim to the left and +right of him. He and they whisper together, and he says something in +their ear. What has happened? Why does his cheek flame, and why are +theirs as white as chalk? + +And suddenly I hear them talking, but I cannot understand them, because +the words do not enter my brain. And yet all three are speaking so +sharply and clearly! + +And all the people utter a groan, and after the groan I hear the words, +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to eat and drink on the Day of Atonement." + +Silence. Not a sound is heard in the Shool, not an eyelid quivers, not a +breath is drawn. + +And I stand in my corner and hear my heart beating: one--two--one--two. +A terror comes over me, and it is black before my eyes. The shadows move +to and fro on the wall, and amongst the shadows I see the dead who died +yesterday and the day before yesterday and the day before the day +before yesterday--a whole people, a great assembly. + +And suddenly I grasp what it is the Rabbi asks of us. The Rabbi calls on +us to eat, to-day! The Rabbi calls on Jews to eat on the Day of +Atonement--not to fast, because of the cholera--because of the +cholera--because of the cholera ... and I begin to cry loudly. And it is +not only I--the whole congregation stands weeping, and the Dayonim on +the platform weep, and the greatest of all stands there sobbing like a +child. + +And he implores like a child, and his words are soft and gentle, and +every now and then he weeps so that his voice cannot be heard. + +"Eat, Jews, eat! To-day we must eat. This is a time to turn aside from +the Law. We are to live through the commandments, and not die through +them!" + +But no one in the Shool has stirred from his place, and there he stands +and begs of them, weeping, and declares that he takes the whole +responsibility on himself, that the people shall be innocent. But no one +stirs. And presently he begins again in a changed voice--he does not +beg, he commands: + +"I give you leave to eat--I--I--I!" + +And his words are like arrows shot from the bow. + +But the people are deaf, and no one stirs. + +Then he begins again with his former voice, and implores like a child: + +"What would you have of me? Why will you torment me till my strength +fails? Think you I have not struggled with myself from early this +morning till now?" + +And the Dayonim also plead with the people. + +And of a sudden the Rabbi grows as white as chalk, and lets his head +fall on his breast. There is a groan from one end of the Shool to the +other, and after the groan the people are heard to murmur among +themselves. + +Then the Rabbi, like one speaking to himself, says: + +"It is God's will. I am eighty years old, and have never yet +transgressed a law. But this is also a law, it is a precept. Doubtless +the Almighty wills it so! Beadle!" + +The beadle comes, and the Rabbi whispers a few words into his ear. + +He also confers with the Dayonim, and they nod their heads and agree. + +And the beadle brings cups of wine for Sanctification, out of the +Rabbi's chamber, and little rolls of bread. And though I should live +many years and grow very old, I shall never forget what I saw then, and +even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole thing: three Rabbis +standing on the platform in Shool, and eating before the whole people, +on the Day of Atonement! + +The three belong to the heroes. + +Who shall tell how they fought with themselves, who shall say how they +suffered, and what they endured? + +"I have done what you wished," says the Rabbi, and his voice does not +shake, and his lips do not tremble. + +"God's Name be praised!" + +And all the Jews ate that day, they ate and wept. + +Rays of light beam forth from the remembrance, and spread all around, +and reach the table at which I sit and write these words. + +Once again: three people ate. + +At the moment when the awesome scene in the Shool is before me, there +are three Jews sitting in a room opposite the Shool, and they also are +eating. + +They are the three "enlightened" ones of the place: the tax-collector, +the inspector, and the teacher. + +The window is wide open, so that all may see; on the table stands a +samovar, glasses of red wine, and eatables. And the three sit with +playing-cards in their hands, playing Preference, and they laugh and eat +and drink. + +Do they also belong to the heroes? + + + + +MICHA JOSEPH BERDYCZEWSKI + + +Born, 1865, in Berschad, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; educated in +Yeshibah of Volozhin; studied also modern literatures in his youth; has +been living alternately in Berlin and Breslau; Hebrew, Yiddish, and +German writer, on philosophy, æsthetics, and Jewish literary, spiritual, +and timely questions; contributor to Hebrew periodicals; editor of +Bet-Midrash, supplement to Bet-Ozar ha-Sifrut; contributed Ueber den +Zusammenhang zwischen Ethik und Aesthetik to Berner Studien zur +Philosophie und ihrer Geschichte; author of two novels, Mibayit u-Mihuz, +and Mahanaim; a book on the Hasidim, Warsaw, 1900; Jüdische Ketobim vun +a weiten Korov, Warsaw; Hebrew essays on miscellaneous subjects, eleven +parts, Warsaw and Breslau (in course of publication). + + + + +MILITARY SERVICE + + +"They look as if they'd enough of me!" + +So I think to myself, as I give a glance at my two great top-boots, my +wide trousers, and my shabby green uniform, in which there is no whole +part left. + +I take a bit of looking-glass out of my box, and look at my reflection. +Yes, the military cap on my head is a beauty, and no mistake, as big as +Og king of Bashan, and as bent and crushed as though it had been sat +upon for years together. + +Under the cap appears a small, washed-out face, yellow and weazened, +with two large black eyes that look at me somewhat wildly. + +I don't recognize myself; I remember me in a grey jacket, narrow, +close-fitting trousers, a round hat, and a healthy complexion. + +I can't make out where I got those big eyes, why they shine so, why my +face should be yellow, and my nose, pointed. + +And yet I know that it is I myself, Chayyim Blumin, and no other; that I +have been handed over for a soldier, and have to serve only two years +and eight months, and not three years and eight months, because I have a +certificate to the effect that I have been through the first four +classes in a secondary school. + +Though I know quite well that I am to serve only two years and eight +months, I feel the same as though it were to be forever; I can't, +somehow, believe that my time will some day expire, and I shall once +more be free. + +I have tried from the very beginning not to play any tricks, to do my +duty and obey orders, so that they should not say, "A Jew won't work--a +Jew is too lazy." + +Even though I am let off manual labor, because I am on "privileged +rights," still, if they tell me to go and clean the windows, or polish +the flooring with sand, or clear away the snow from the door, I make no +fuss and go. I wash and clean and polish, and try to do the work well, +so that they should find no fault with me. + +They haven't yet ordered me to carry pails of water. + +Why should I not confess it? The idea of having to do that rather +frightens me. When I look at the vessel in which the water is carried, +my heart begins to flutter: the vessel is almost as big as I am, and I +couldn't lift it even if it were empty. + +I often think: What shall I do, if to-morrow, or the day after, they +wake me at three o'clock in the morning and say coolly: + +"Get up, Blumin, and go with Ossadtchok to fetch a pail of water!" + +You ought to see my neighbor Ossadtchok! He looks as if he could squash +me with one finger. It is as easy for him to carry a pail of water as to +drink a glass of brandy. How can I compare myself with him? + +I don't care if it makes my shoulder swell, if I could only carry the +thing. I shouldn't mind about that. But God in Heaven knows the truth, +that I won't be able to lift the pail off the ground, only they won't +believe me, they will say: + +"Look at the lazy Jew, pretending he is a poor creature that can't lift +a pail!" + +There--I mind that more than anything. + +I don't suppose they _will_ send me to fetch water, for, after all, I am +on "privileged rights," but I can't sleep in peace: I dream all night +that they are waking me at three o'clock, and I start up bathed in a +cold sweat. + +Drill does not begin before eight in the morning, but they wake us at +six, so that we may have time to clean our rifles, polish our boots and +leather girdle, brush our coat, and furbish the brass buttons with +chalk, so that they should shine like mirrors. + +I don't mind the getting up early, I am used to rising long before +daylight, but I am always worrying lest something shouldn't be properly +cleaned, and they should say that a Jew is so lazy, he doesn't care if +his things are clean or not, that he's afraid of touching his rifle, and +pay me other compliments of the kind. + +I clean and polish and rub everything all I know, but my rifle always +seems in worse condition than the other men's. I can't make it look the +same as theirs, do what I will, and the head of my division, a corporal, +shouts at me, calls me a greasy fellow, and says he'll have me up before +the authorities because I don't take care of my arms. + +But there is worse than the rifle, and that is the uniform. Mine is +_years_ old--I am sure it is older than I am. Every day little pieces +fall out of it, and the buttons tear themselves out of the cloth, +dragging bits of it after them. + +I never had a needle in my hand in all my life before, and now I sit +whole nights and patch and sew on buttons. And next morning, when the +corporal takes hold of a button and gives a pull, to see if it's firmly +sewn, a pang goes through my heart: the button is dragged out, and a +piece of the uniform follows. + +Another whole night's work for me! + +After the inspection, they drive us out into the yard and teach us to +stand: it must be done so that our stomachs fall in and our chests stick +out. I am half as one ought to be, because my stomach is flat enough +anyhow, only my chest is weak and narrow and also flat--flat as a board. + +The corporal squeezes in my stomach with his knee, pulls me forward by +the flaps of the coat, but it's no use. He loses his temper, and calls +me greasy fellow, screams again that I am pretending, that I _won't_ +serve, and this makes my chest fall in more than ever. + +I like the gymnastics. + +In summer we go out early into the yard, which is very wide and covered +with thick grass. + +It smells delightfully, the sun warms us through, it feels so pleasant. + +The breeze blows from the fields, I open my mouth and swallow the +freshness, and however much I swallow, it's not enough, I should like to +take in all the air there is. Then, perhaps, I should cough less, and +grow a little stronger. + +We throw off the old uniforms, and remain in our shirts, we run and leap +and go through all sorts of performances with our hands and feet, and +it's splendid! At home I never had so much as an idea of such fun. + +At first I was very much afraid of jumping across the ditch, but I +resolved once and for all--I've _got_ to jump it. If the worst comes to +the worst, I shall fall and bruise myself. Suppose I do? What then? Why +do all the others jump it and don't care? One needn't be so very strong +to jump! + +And one day, before the gymnastics had begun, I left my comrades, took +heart and a long run, and when I came to the ditch, I made a great +bound, and, lo and behold, I was over on the other side! I couldn't +believe my own eyes that I had done it so easily. + +Ever since then I have jumped across ditches, and over mounds, and down +from mounds, as well as any of them. + +Only when it comes to climbing a ladder or swinging myself over a high +bar, I know it spells misfortune for me. + +I spring forward, and seize the first rung with my right hand, but I +cannot reach the second with my left. + +I stretch myself, and kick out with my feet, but I cannot reach any +higher, not by so much as a vershok, and so there I hang and kick with +my feet, till my right arm begins to tremble and hurt me. My head goes +round, and I fall onto the grass. The corporal abuses me as usual, and +the soldiers laugh. + +I would give ten years of my life to be able to get higher, if only +three or four rungs, but what can I do, if my arms won't serve me? + +Sometimes I go out to the ladder by myself, while the soldiers are still +asleep, and stand and look at it: perhaps I can think of a way to +manage? But in vain. Thinking, you see, doesn't help you in these cases. + +Sometimes they tell one of the soldiers to stand in the middle of the +yard with his back to us, and we have to hop over him. He bends down a +little, lowers his head, rests his hands on his knees, and we hop over +him one at a time. One takes a good run, and when one comes to him, one +places both hands on his shoulders, raises oneself into the air, +and--over! + +I know exactly how it ought to be done; I take the run all right, and +plant my hands on his shoulders, only I can't raise myself into the air. +And if I do lift myself up a little way, I remain sitting on the +soldier's neck, and were it not for his seizing me by the feet, I should +fall, and perhaps kill myself. + +Then the corporal and another soldier take hold of me by the arms and +legs, and throw me over the man's head, so that I may see there is +nothing dreadful about it, as though I did not jump right over him +because I was afraid, while it is that my arms are so weak, I cannot +lean upon them and raise myself into the air. + +But when I say so, they only laugh, and don't believe me. They say, "It +won't help you; you will have to serve anyhow!" + + * * * * * + +When, on the other hand, it comes to "theory," the corporal is very +pleased with me. + +He says that except himself no one knows "theory" as I do. + +He never questions me now, only when one of the others doesn't know +something, he turns to me: + +"Well, Blumin, _you_ tell me!" + +I stand up without hurrying, and am about to answer, but he is +apparently not pleased with my way of rising from my seat, and orders me +to sit down again. + +"When your superior speaks to you," says he, "you ought to jump up as +though the seat were hot," and he looks at me angrily, as much as to +say, "You may know theory, but you'll please to know your manners as +well, and treat me with proper respect." + +"Stand up again and answer!" + +I start up as though I felt a prick from a needle, and answer the +question as he likes it done: smartly, all in one breath, and word for +word according to the book. + +He, meanwhile, looks at the primer, to make sure I am not leaving +anything out, but as he reads very slowly, he cannot catch me up, and +when I have got to the end, he is still following with his finger and +reading. And when he has finished, he gives me a pleased look, and says +enthusiastically "Right!" and tells me to sit down again. + +"Theory," he says, "that you _do_ know!" + +Well, begging his pardon, it isn't much to know. And yet there are +soldiers who are four years over it, and don't know it then. For +instance, take my comrade Ossadtchok; he says that, when it comes to +"theory", he would rather go and hang or drown himself. He says, he +would rather have to carry three pails of water than sit down to +"theory." + +I tell him, that if he would learn to read, he could study the whole +thing by himself in a week; but he won't listen. + +"Nobody," he says, "will ever ask _my_ advice." + +One thing always alarmed me very much: However was I to take part in the +manoeuvres? + +I cannot lift a single pud (I myself only weigh two pud and thirty +pounds), and if I walk three versts, my feet hurt, and my heart beats so +violently that I think it's going to burst my side. + +At the manoeuvres I should have to carry as much as fifty pounds' +weight, and perhaps more: a rifle, a cloak, a knapsack with linen, +boots, a uniform, a tent, bread, and onions, and a few other little +things, and should have to walk perhaps thirty to forty versts a day. + +But when the day and the hour arrived, and the command was given +"Forward, march!" when the band struck up, and two thousand men set +their feet in motion, something seemed to draw me forward, and I went. +At the beginning I found it hard, I felt weighted to the earth, my left +shoulder hurt me so, I nearly fainted. But afterwards I got very hot, I +began to breathe rapidly and deeply, my eyes were starting out of my +head like two cupping-glasses, and I not only walked, I ran, so as not +to fall behind--and so I ended by marching along with the rest, forty +versts a day. + +Only I did not sing on the march like the others. First, because I did +not feel so very cheerful, and second, because I could not breathe +properly, let alone sing. + +At times I felt burning hot, but immediately afterwards I would grow +light, and the marching was easy, I seemed to be carried along rather +than to tread the earth, and it appeared to me as though another were +marching in my place, only that my left shoulder ached, and I was hot. + +I remember that once it rained a whole night long, it came down like a +deluge, our tents were soaked through, and grew heavy. The mud was +thick. At three o'clock in the morning an alarm was sounded, we were +ordered to fold up our tents and take to the road again. So off we went. + +It was dark and slippery. It poured with rain. I was continually +stepping into a puddle, and getting my boot full of water. I shivered +and shook, and my teeth chattered with cold. That is, I was cold one +minute and hot the next. But the marching was no difficulty to me, I +scarcely felt that I was on the march, and thought very little about it. +Indeed, I don't know what I _was_ thinking about, my mind was a blank. + +We marched, turned back, and marched again. Then we halted for half an +hour, and turned back again. + +And this went on a whole night and a whole day. + +Then it turned out that there had been a mistake: it was not we who +ought to have marched, but another regiment, and we ought not to have +moved from the spot. But there was no help for it then. + +It was night. We had eaten nothing all day. The rain poured down, the +mud was ankle-deep, there was no straw on which to pitch our tents, but +we managed somehow. And so the days passed, each like the other. But I +got through the manoeuvres, and was none the worse. + +Now I am already an old soldier; I have hardly another year and a half +to serve--about sixteen months. I only hope I shall not be ill. It seems +I got a bit of a chill at the manoeuvres, I cough every morning, and +sometimes I suffer with my feet. I shiver a little at night till I get +warm, and then I am very hot, and I feel very comfortable lying abed. +But I shall probably soon be all right again. + +They say, one may take a rest in the hospital, but I haven't been there +yet, and don't want to go at all, especially now I am feeling better. +The soldiers are sorry for me, and sometimes they do my work, but not +just for love. I get three pounds of bread a day, and don't eat more +than one pound. The rest I give to my comrade Ossadtchok. He eats it +all, and his own as well, and then he could do with some more. In return +for this he often cleans my rifle, and sometimes does other work for me, +when he sees I have no strength left. + +I am also teaching him and a few other soldiers to read and write, and +they are very pleased. + +My corporal also comes to me to be taught, but he never gives me a word +of thanks. + +The superior of the platoon, when he isn't drunk, and is in good humor, +says "you" to me instead of "thou," and sometimes invites me to share +his bed--I can breathe easier there, because there is more air, and I +don't cough so much, either. + +Only it sometimes happens that he comes back from town tipsy, and makes +a great to-do: How do I, a common soldier, come to be sitting on his +bed? + +He orders me to get up and stand before him "at attention," and declares +he will "have me up" for it. + +When, however, he has sobered down, he turns kind again, and calls me to +him; he likes me to tell him "stories" out of books. + +Sometimes the orderly calls me into the orderly-room, and gives me a +report to draw up, or else a list or a calculation to make. He himself +writes badly, and is very poor at figures. + +I do everything he wants, and he is very glad of my help, only it +wouldn't do for him to confess to it, and when I have finished, he +always says to me: + +"If the commanding officer is not satisfied, he will send you to fetch +water." + +I know it isn't true, first, because the commanding officer mustn't know +that I write in the orderly-room, a Jew can't be an army secretary; +secondly, because he is certain to be satisfied: he once gave me a note +to write himself, and was very pleased with it. + +"If you were not a Jew," he said to me then, "I should make a corporal +of you." + +Still, my corporal always repeats his threat about the water, so that I +may preserve a proper respect for him, although I not only respect him, +I tremble before his size. When _he_ comes back tipsy from town, and +finds me in the orderly-room, he commands me to drag his muddy boots off +his feet, and I obey him and drag off his boots. + +Sometimes I don't care, and other times it hurts my feelings. + + + + +ISAIAH BERSCHADSKI + + +Pen name of Isaiah Domaschewitski; born, 1871, near Derechin, Government +of Grodno (Lithuania), White Russia; died, 1909, in Warsaw; education, +Jewish and secular; teacher of Hebrew in Ekaterinoslav, Southern Russia; +in business, in Ekaterinoslav and Baku; editor, in 1903, of Ha-Zeman, +first in St. Petersburg, then in Wilna; after a short sojourn in Riga +removed to Warsaw; writer of novels and short stories, almost +exclusively in Hebrew; contributor to Ha-Meliz, Ha-Shiloah, and other +periodicals; pen names besides Berschadski: Berschadi, and Shimoni; +collected works in Hebrew, Tefusim u-Zelalim, Warsaw, 1899, and Ketabim +Aharonim, Warsaw, 1909. + + + + +FORLORN AND FORSAKEN + + +Forlorn and forsaken she was in her last years. Even when she lay on the +bed of sickness where she died, not one of her relations or friends came +to look after her; they did not even come to mourn for her or accompany +her to the grave. There was not even one of her kin to say the first +Kaddish over her resting-place. My wife and I were the only friends she +had at the close of her life, no one but us cared for her while she was +ill, or walked behind her coffin. The only tears shed at the lonely old +woman's grave were ours. I spoke the only Kaddish for her soul, but we, +after all, were complete strangers to her! + +Yes, we were strangers to her, and she was a stranger to us! We made her +acquaintance only a few years before her death, when she was living in +two tiny rooms opposite the first house we settled in after our +marriage. Nobody ever came to see her, and she herself visited nowhere, +except at the little store where she made her necessary purchases, and +at the house-of-study near by, where she prayed twice every day. She was +about sixty, rather undersized, and very thin, but more lithesome in her +movements than is common at that age. Her face was full of creases and +wrinkles, and her light brown eyes were somewhat dulled, but her ready +smile and quiet glance told of a good heart and a kindly temper. Her +simple old gown was always neat, her wig tastefully arranged, her +lodging and its furniture clean and tidy--and all this attracted us to +her from the first day onward. We were still more taken with her +retiring manner, the quiet way in which she kept herself in the +background and the slight melancholy of her expression, telling of a +life that had held much sadness. + +We made advances. She was very willing to become acquainted with us, and +it was not very long before she was like a mother to us, or an old aunt. +My wife was then an inexperienced "housemistress" fresh to her duties, +and found a great help in the old woman, who smilingly taught her how to +proceed with the housekeeping. When our first child was born, she took +it to her heart, and busied herself with its upbringing almost more than +the young mother. It was evident that dandling the child in her arms was +a joy to her beyond words. At such moments her eyes would brighten, her +wrinkles grew faint, a curiously satisfied smile played round her lips, +and a new note of joy came into her voice. + +At first sight all this seemed quite simple, because a woman is +naturally inclined to care for little children, and it may have been so +with her to an exceptional degree, but closer examination convinced me +that here lay yet another reason; her attentions to the child, so it +seemed, awakened pleasant memories of a long-ago past, when she herself +was a young mother caring for children of her own, and looking at this +strange child had stirred a longing for those other children, further +from her eyes, but nearer to her heart, although perhaps quite unknown +to her--who perhaps existed only in her imagination. + +And when we were made acquainted with the details of her life, we knew +our conjectures to be true. Her history was very simple and commonplace, +but very tragic. Perhaps the tragedy of such biographies lies in their +being so very ordinary and simple! + +She lived quietly and happily with her husband for twenty years after +their marriage. They were not rich, but their little house was a kingdom +of delight, where no good thing was wanting. Their business was farming +land that belonged to a Polish nobleman, a business that knows of good +times and of bad, of fat years and lean years, years of high prices and +years of low. But on the whole it was a good business and profitable, +and it afforded them a comfortable living. Besides, they were used to +the country, they could not fancy themselves anywhere else. The very +thing that had never entered their head is just what happened. In the +beginning of the "eighties" they were obliged to leave the estate they +had farmed for ten years, because the lease was up, and the recently +promulgated "temporary laws" forbade them to renew it. This was bad for +them from a material point of view, because it left them without regular +income just when their children were growing up and expenses had +increased, but their mental distress was so great, that, for the time, +the financial side of the misfortune was thrown into the shade. + +When we made her acquaintance, many years had passed since then, many +another trouble had come into her life, but one could hear tears in her +voice while she told the story of that first misfortune. It was a +bitter Tisho-b'ov for them when they left the house, the gardens, the +barns, and the stalls, their whole life, all those things concerning +which they had forgotten, and their children had hardly known, that they +were not their own possession. + +Their town surroundings made them more conscious of their altered +circumstances. She herself, the elder children oftener still, had been +used to drive into the town now and again, but that was on pleasure +trips, which had lasted a day or two at most; they had never tried +staying there longer, and it was no wonder if they felt cramped and +oppressed in town after their free life in the open. + +When they first settled there, they had a capital of about ten thousand +rubles, but by reason of inexperience in their new occupation they were +worsted in competition with others, and a few turns of bad luck brought +them almost to ruin. The capital grew less from year to year; everything +they took up was more of a struggle than the last venture; poverty came +nearer and nearer, and the father of the family began to show signs of +illness, brought on by town life and worry. This, of course, made their +material position worse, and the knowledge of it reacted disastrously on +his health. Three years after he came to town, he died, and she was left +with six children and no means of subsistence. Already during her +husband's life they had exchanged their first lodging for a second, a +poorer and cheaper one, and after his death they moved into a third, +meaner and narrower still, and sold their precious furniture, for which, +indeed, there was no place in the new existence. But even so the +question of bread and meat was not answered. They still had about six +hundred rubles, but, as they were without a trade, it was easy to +foresee that the little stock of money would dwindle day by day till +there was none of it left--and what then? + +The eldest son, Yossef, aged twenty-one, had gone from home a year +before his father's death, to seek his fortune elsewhere; but his first +letters brought no very good news, and now the second, Avròhom, a lad of +eighteen, and the daughter Rochel, who was sixteen, declared their +intention to start for America. The mother was against it, begged them +with tears not to go, but they did not listen to her. Parting with them, +forever most likely, was bad enough in itself, but worst of all was the +thought that her children, for whose Jewish education their father had +never grudged money even when times were hardest, should go to America, +and there, forgetting everything they had learned, become "ganze Goyim." +She was quite sure that her husband would never have agreed to his +children's being thus scattered abroad, and this encouraged her to +oppose their will with more determination. She urged them to wait at +least till their elder brother had achieved some measure of success, and +could help them. She held out this hope to them, because she believed in +her son Yossef and his capacity, and was convinced that in a little time +he would become their support. + +If only Avròhom and Rochel had not been so impatient (she would lament +to us), everything would have turned out differently! They would not +have been bustled off to the end of creation, and she would not have +been left so lonely in her last years, but--it had apparently been so +ordained! + +Avròhom and Rochel agreed to defer the journey, but when some months had +passed, and Yossef was still wandering from town to town, finding no +rest for the sole of his foot, she had to give in to her children and +let them go. They took with them two hundred rubles and sailed for +America, and with the remaining three hundred rubles she opened a tiny +shop. Her expenses were not great now, as only the three younger +children were left her, but the shop was not sufficient to support even +these. The stock grew smaller month by month, there never being anything +over wherewith to replenish it, and there was no escaping the fact that +one day soon the shop would remain empty. + +And as if this were not enough, there came bad news from the children in +America. They did not complain much; on the contrary, they wrote most +hopefully about the future, when their position would certainly, so they +said, improve; but the mother's heart was not to be deceived, and she +felt instinctively that meanwhile they were doing anything but well, +while later--who could foresee what would happen later? + +One day she got a letter from Yossef, who wrote that, convinced of the +impossibility of earning a livelihood within the Pale, he was about to +make use of an opportunity that offered itself, and settle in a distant +town outside of it. This made her very sad, and she wept over her +fate--to have a son living in a Gentile city, where there were hardly +any Jews at all. And the next letter from America added sorrow to +sorrow. Avròhom and Rochel had parted company, and were living in +different towns. She could not bear the thought of her young daughter +fending for herself among strangers--a thought that tortured her all the +more as she had a peculiar idea of America. She herself could not +account for the terror that would seize her whenever she remembered that +strange, distant life. + +But the worst was nearly over; the turn for the better came soon. She +received word from Yossef that he had found a good position in his new +home, and in a few weeks he proved his letter true by sending her money. +From America, too, the news that came was more cheerful, even joyous. +Avròhom had secured steady work with good pay, and before long he wrote +for his younger brother to join him in America, and provided him with +all the funds he needed for travelling expenses. Rochel had engaged +herself to a young man, whose praises she sounded in her letters. Soon +after her wedding, she sent money to bring over another brother, and her +husband added a few lines, in which he spoke of "his great love for his +new relations," and how he "looked forward with impatience to having one +of them, his dear brother-in-law, come to live with him." + +This was good and cheering news, and it all came within a year's time, +but the mother's heart grieved over it more than it rejoiced. Her +delight at her daughter's marriage with a good man she loved was +anything but unmixed. Melancholy thoughts blended with it, whether she +would or not. The occasion was one which a mother's fancy had painted in +rainbow colors, on the preparations for which it had dwelt with untold +pleasure--and now she had had no share in it at all, and her heart +writhed under the disappointment. To make her still sadder, she was +obliged to part with two more children. She tried to prevent their +going, but they had long ago set their hearts on following their brother +and sister to America, and the recent letters had made them more anxious +to be off. + +So they started, and there remained only the youngest daughter, Rivkeh, +a girl of thirteen. Their position was materially not a bad one, for +every now and then the old woman received help from her children in +America and from her son Yossef, so that she was not even obliged to +keep up the shop, but the mother in her was not satisfied, because she +wanted to see her children's happiness with her own eyes. The good news +that continued to arrive at intervals brought pain as well as pleasure, +by reminding her how much less fortunate she was than other mothers, who +were counted worthy to live together with their children, and not at a +distance from them like her. + +The idea that she should go out to those of them who were in America, +never occurred to her, or to them, either! But Yossef, who had taken a +wife in his new town, and who, soon after, had set up for himself, and +was doing very well, now sent for his mother and little sister to come +and live with him. At first the mother was unwilling, fearing that she +might be in the way of her daughter-in-law, and thus disturb the +household peace; even later, when she had assured herself that the young +wife was very kind, and there was nothing to be afraid of, she could not +make up her mind to go, even though she longed to be with Yossef, her +oldest son, who had always been her favorite, and however much she +desired to see his wife and her little grandchildren. + +Why she would not fulfil his wish and her own, she herself was not +clearly conscious; but she shrank from the strange fashion of the life +they led, and she never ceased to hope, deep down in her heart, that +some day they would come back to her. And this especially with regard to +Yossef, who sometimes complained in his letters that his situation was +anything but secure, because the smallest circumstance might bring about +an edict of expulsion. She quite understood that her son would consider +this a very bad thing, but she herself looked at it with other eyes; +round about _here_, too, were people who made a comfortable living, and +Yossef was no worse than others, that he should not do the same. + +Six or seven years passed in this way; the youngest daughter was twenty, +and it was time to think of a match for her. Her mother felt sure that +Yossef would provide the dowry, but she thought best Rivkeh and her +brother should see each other, and she consented readily to let Rivkeh +go to him, when Yossef invited her to spend several months as his guest. +No sooner had she gone, than the mother realized what it meant, this +parting with her youngest and, for the last years, her only child. She +was filled with regret at not having gone with her, and waited +impatiently for her return. Suddenly she heard that Rivkeh had found +favor with a friend of Yossef's, the son of a well-to-do merchant, and +that Rivkeh and her brother were equally pleased with him. The two were +already engaged, and the wedding was only deferred till she, the mother, +should come and take up her abode with them for good. + +The longing to see her daughter overcame all her doubts. She resolved to +go to her son, and began preparations for the start. These were just +completed, when there came a letter from Yossef to say that the +situation had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and he and his family +might have to leave their town. + +This sudden news was distressing and welcome at one and the same time. +She was anxious lest the edict of expulsion should harm her son's +position, and pleased, on the other hand, that he should at last be +coming back, for God would not forsake him here, either; what with the +fortune he had, and his aptitude for trade, he would make a living right +enough. She waited anxiously, and in a few months had gone through all +the mental suffering inherent in a state of uncertainty such as hers, +when fear and hope are twined in one. + +The waiting was the harder to bear that all this time no letter from +Yossef or Rivkeh reached her promptly. And the end of it all was this: +news came that the danger was over, and Yossef would remain where he +was; but as far as she was concerned, it was best she should do +likewise, because trailing about at her age was a serious thing, and it +was not worth while her running into danger, and so on. + +The old woman was full of grief at remaining thus forlorn in her old +age, and she longed more than ever for her children after having hoped +so surely that she would be with them soon. She could not understand +Yossef's reason for suddenly changing his mind with regard to her +coming; but it never occurred to her for one minute to doubt her +children's affection. And we, when we had read the treasured bundle of +letters from Yossef and Rivkeh, we could not doubt it, either. There was +love and longing for the distant mother in every line, and several of +the letters betrayed a spirit of bitterness, a note of complaining +resentment against the hard times that had brought about the separation +from her. And yet we could not help thinking, "Out of sight, out of +mind," that which is far from the eyes, weighs lighter at the heart. It +was the only explanation we could invent, for why, otherwise, should the +mother have to remain alone among strangers? + +All these considerations moved me to interfere in the matter without the +old woman's knowledge. She could read Yiddish, but could not write it, +and before we made friends, her letters to the children were written by +a shopkeeper of her acquaintance. But from the time we got to know her, +I became her constant secretary, and one day, when writing to Yossef for +her, I made use of the opportunity to enclose a letter from myself. I +asked his forgiveness for mixing myself up in another's family affairs, +and tried to justify the interference by dwelling on our affectionate +relations with his mother. I then described, in the most touching words +at my command, how hard it was for her to live forlorn, how she pined +for the presence of her children and grandchildren, and ended by telling +them, that it was their duty to free their mother from all this mental +suffering. + +There was no direct reply to this letter of mine, but the next one from +the son to his mother gave her to understand that there are certain +things not to be explained, while the impossibility of explaining them +may lead to a misunderstanding. This hint made the position no clearer +to us, and the fact of Yossef's not answering me confirmed us in our +previous suspicions. + +Meanwhile our old friend fell ill, and quickly understood that she would +soon die. Among the things she begged me to do after her death and +having reference to her burial, there was one particular petition +several times repeated: to send a packet of Hebrew books, which had been +left by her husband, to her son Yossef, and to inform him of her death +by telegram. "My American children"--she explained with a sigh--"have +certainly forgotten everything they once learned, forgotten all their +Jewishness! But my son Yossef is a different sort; I feel sure of him, +that he will say Kaddish after me and read a chapter in the Mishnah, and +the books will come in useful for his children--Grandmother's legacy to +them." + +When I fulfilled the old woman's last wish, I learned how mistaken she +had been. The answer to my letter written during her lifetime came now +that she was dead. Her children thanked us warmly for our care of her, +and they also explained why she and they had remained apart. + +She had never known--and it was far better so--by what means her son had +obtained the right to live outside the Pale. It was enough that she +should have to live _forlorn_, where would have been the good of her +knowing that she was _forsaken_ as well--that the one of her children +who had gone altogether over to "them" was Yossef? + + + + +TASHRAK + + +Pen name of Israel Joseph Zevin; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government +of Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; came to New York in 1889; first +Yiddish sketch published in Jüdisches Tageblatt, 1893; first English +story in The American Hebrew, 1906; associate editor of Jüdisches +Tageblatt; writer of sketches, short stories, and biographies, in +Hebrew, Yiddish, and English; contributor to Ha-Ibri, Jewish Comment, +and numerous Yiddish periodicals; collected works, Geklibene Schriften, +1 vol., New York, 1910, and Tashrak's Beste Erzählungen, 4 vols., New +York, 1910. + + + + +THE HOLE IN A BEIGEL + + +When I was a little Cheder-boy, my Rebbe, Bunem-Breine-Gite's, a learned +man, who was always tormenting me with Talmudical questions and with +riddles, once asked me, "What becomes of the hole in a Beigel, when one +has eaten the Beigel?" + +This riddle, which seemed to me then very hard to solve, stuck in my +head, and I puzzled over it day and night. I often bought a Beigel, took +a bite out of it, and immediately replaced the bitten-out piece with my +hand, so that the hole should not escape. But when I had eaten up the +Beigel, the hole had somehow always disappeared, which used to annoy me +very much. I went about preoccupied, thought it over at prayers and at +lessons, till the Rebbe noticed that something was wrong with me. + +At home, too, they remarked that I had lost my appetite, that I ate +nothing but Beigel--Beigel for breakfast, Beigel for dinner, Beigel for +supper, Beigel all day long. They also observed that I ate it to the +accompaniment of strange gestures and contortions of both my mouth and +my hands. + +One day I summoned all my courage, and asked the Rebbe, in the middle of +a lesson on the Pentateuch: + +"Rebbe, when one has eaten a Beigel, what becomes of the hole?" + +"Why, you little silly," answered the Rebbe, "what is a hole in a +Beigel? Just nothing at all! A bit of emptiness! It's nothing _with_ the +Beigel and nothing _without_ the Beigel!" + +Many years have passed since then, and I have not yet been able to +satisfy myself as to what is the object of a hole in a Beigel. I have +considered whether one could not have Beigels without holes. One lives +and learns. And America has taught me this: One _can_ have Beigels +without holes, for I saw them in a dairy-shop in East Broadway. I at +once recited the appropriate blessing, and then I asked the shopman +about these Beigels, and heard a most interesting history, which shows +how difficult it is to get people to accept anything new, and what +sacrifices it costs to introduce the smallest reform. + +This is the story: + +A baker in an Illinois city took it into his head to make straight +Beigels, in the shape of candles. But this reform cost him dear, because +the united owners of the bakeries in that city immediately made a set at +him and boycotted him. + +They argued: "Our fathers' fathers baked Beigels with holes, the whole +world eats Beigels with holes, and here comes a bold coxcomb of a +fellow, upsets the order of the universe, and bakes Beigels _without_ +holes! Have you ever heard of such impertinence? It's just revolution! +And if a person like this is allowed to go on, he will make an end of +everything: to-day it's Beigels without holes, to-morrow it will be +holes without Beigels! Such a thing has never been known before!" + +And because of the hole in a Beigel, a storm broke out in that city that +grew presently into a civil war. The "bosses" fought on, and dragged the +bakers'-hands Union after them into the conflict. Now the Union +contained two parties, of which one declared that a hole and a Beigel +constituted together a private affair, like religion, and that everyone +had a right to bake Beigels as he thought best, and according to his +conscience. The other party maintained, that to sell Beigels without +holes was against the constitution, to which the first party replied +that the constitution should be altered, as being too ancient, and +contrary to the spirit of the times. At this the second party raised a +clamor, crying that the rules could not be altered, because they were +Toras-Lokshen and every letter, every stroke, every dot was a law in +itself! The city papers were obliged to publish daily accounts of the +meetings that were held to discuss the hole in a Beigel, and the papers +also took sides, and wrote fiery polemical articles on the subject. The +quarrel spread through the city, until all the inhabitants were divided +into two parties, the Beigel-with-a-hole party and the +Beigel-without-a-hole party. Children rose against their parents, wives +against their husbands, engaged couples severed their ties, families +were broken up, and still the battle raged--and all on account of the +hole in a Beigel! + + + + +AS THE YEARS ROLL ON + + +Rosalie laid down the cloth with which she had been dusting the +furniture in her front parlor, and began tapping the velvet covering of +the sofa with her fingers. The velvet had worn threadbare in places, and +there was a great rent in the middle. + +Had the rent been at one of the ends, it could have been covered with a +cushion, but there it was, by bad luck, in the very centre, and making a +shameless display of itself: Look, here I am! See what a rent! + +Yesterday she and her husband had invited company. The company had +brought children, and you never have children in the house without +having them leave some mischief behind them. + +To-day the sun was shining more brightly than ever, and lighting up the +whole room. Rosalie took the opportunity to inspect her entire set of +furniture. Eight years ago, when she was given the set at her marriage, +how happy, she had been! Everything was so fresh and new. + +She had noticed before that the velvet was getting worn, and the polish +of the chairs disappearing, and the seats losing their spring, but +to-day all this struck her more than formerly. The holes, the rents, the +damaged places, stared before them with such malicious mockery--like a +poor man laughing at his own evil plight. + +Rosalie felt a painful melancholy steal over her. Now she could not but +see that her furniture was old, that she would soon be ashamed to +invite people into her parlor. And her husband will be in no hurry to +present her with a new one--he has grown so parsimonious of late! + +She replaced the holland coverings of the sofa and chairs, and went out +to do her bedroom. There, on a chair, lay her best dress, the one she +had put on yesterday for her guests. + +She considered the dress: that, too, was frayed in places; here and +there even drawn together and sewn over. The bodice was beyond ironing +out again--and this was her best dress. She opened the wardrobe, for she +wanted to make a general survey of her belongings. It was such a light +day, one could see even in the back rooms. She took down one dress after +another, and laid them out on the made beds, observing each with a +critical eye. Her sense of depression increased the while, and she felt +as though stone on stone were being piled upon her heart. + +She began to put the clothes back into the wardrobe, and she hung up +every one of them with a sigh. When she had finished with the bedroom, +she went into the dining-room, and stood by the sideboard on which were +set out her best china service and colored plates. She looked them over. +One little gold-rimmed cup had lost its handle, a bowl had a piece glued +in at the side. On the top shelf stood the statuette of a little god +with a broken bow and arrow in his hand, and here there was one little +goblet missing out of a whole service. + +As soon as everything was in order, Rosalie washed her face and hands, +combed up her hair, and began to look at herself in a little +hand-glass, but the bath-room, to which she had retired, was dark, and +she betook herself back into the front parlor, towel in hand, where she +could see herself in the big looking-glass on the wall. Time, which had +left traces on the furniture, on the contents of the wardrobe, and on +the china, had not spared the woman, though she had been married only +eight years. She looked at the crow's-feet by her eyes, and the lines in +her forehead, which the worrying thoughts of this day had imprinted +there even more sharply than usual. She tried to smile, but the smile in +the glass looked no more attractive than if she had given her mouth a +twist. She remembered that the only way to remain young is to keep free +from care. But how is one to set about it? She threw on a scarlet +Japanese kimono, and stuck an artificial flower into her hair, after +which she lightly powdered her face and neck. The scarlet kimono lent a +little color to her cheeks, and another critical glance at the mirror +convinced her that she was still a comely woman, only no more a young +one. + +The bloom of youth had fled, never to return. Verfallen! And the desire +to live was stronger than ever, even to live her life over again from +the beginning, sorrows and all. + +She began to reflect what she should cook for supper. There was time +enough, but she must think of something new: her husband was tired of +her usual dishes. He said her cooking was old-fashioned, that it was +always the same thing, day in and day out. His taste was evidently +getting worn-out, too. + +And she wondered what she could prepare, so as to win back her husband's +former good temper and affectionate appreciation. + +At one time he was an ardent young man, with a fiery tongue. He had +great ideals, and he strove high. He talked of making mankind happy, +more refined, more noble and free. He had dreamt of a world without +tears and troubles, of a time when men should live as brothers, and +jealousy and hatred should be unknown. In those days he loved with all +the warmth of his youth, and when he talked of love, it was a delight to +listen. The world grew to have another face for her then, life, another +significance, Paradise was situated on the earth. + +Gradually his ideals lost their freshness, their shine wore off, and he +became a business man, racking his brain with speculations, trying to +grow rich without the necessary qualities and capabilities, and he was +left at last with prematurely grey hair as the only result of his +efforts. + +Eight years after their marriage he was as worn as their furniture in +the front parlor. + +Rosalie looked out of the window. It was even much brighter outside than +indoors. She saw people going up and down the street with different +anxieties reflected in their faces, with wrinkles telling different +histories of the cares of life. She saw old faces, and the young faces +of those who seemed to have tasted of age ere they reached it. +"Everything is old and worn and shabby," whispered a voice in her ear. + +A burst of childish laughter broke upon her meditations. Round the +corner came with a rush a lot of little boys with books under their +arms, their faces full of the zest of life, and dancing and jumping till +the whole street seemed to be jumping and dancing, too. Elder people +turned smilingly aside to make way for them. Among the children Rosalie +espied two little girls, also with books under their arms, her little +girls! And the mother's heart suddenly brimmed with joy, a delicious +warmth stole into her limbs and filled her being. + +Rosalie went to the door to meet her two children on their return from +school, and when she had given each little face a motherly kiss, she +felt a breath of freshness and new life blowing round her. + +She took off their cloaks, and listened to their childish prattle about +their teachers and the day's lessons. + +The clear voices rang through the rooms, awaking sympathetic echoes in +every corner. The home wore a new aspect, and the sun shone even more +brightly than before and in more friendly, kindly fashion. + +The mother spread a little cloth at the edge of the table, gave them +milk and sandwiches, and looked at them as they ate--each child the +picture of the mother, her eyes, her hair, her nose, her look, her +gestures--they ate just as she would do. + +And Rosalie feels much better and happier. She doesn't care so much now +about the furniture being old, the dresses worn, the china service not +being whole, about the wrinkles round her eyes and in her forehead. She +only minds about her husband's being so worn-out, so absent-minded that +he cannot take pleasure in the children as she can. + + + + +DAVID PINSKI + + +Born, 1872, in Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; refused admission to +Gymnasium in Moscow under percentage restrictions; 1889-1891, secretary +to Bene Zion in Vitebsk; 1891-1893, student in Vienna; 1893, co-editor +of Spektor's Hausfreund and Perez's Yom-tov Blättlech; 1893, first +sketch published in New York Arbeiterzeitung; 1896, studied philosophy +in Berlin; 1899, came to New York, and edited Das Abendblatt, a daily, +and Der Arbeiter, a weekly; 1912, founder and co-editor of Die Yiddishe +Wochenschrift; author of short stories, sketches, an essay on the +Yiddish drama, and ten dramas, among them Yesurun, Eisik Scheftel, Die +Mutter, Die Familie Zwie, Der Oitzer, Der eibiger Jüd (first part of a +series of Messiah dramas), Der stummer Moschiach, etc.; one volume of +collected dramas, Dramen, Warsaw, 1909. + + + + +REB SHLOIMEH + + +The seventy-year-old Reb Shloimeh's son, whose home was in the country, +sent his two boys to live with their grandfather and acquire town, that +is, Gentile, learning. + +"Times have changed," considered Reb Shloimeh; "it can't be helped!" and +he engaged a good teacher for the children, after making inquiries here +and there. + +"Give me a teacher who can tell the whole of _their_ Law, as the saying +goes, standing on one leg!" he would say to his friends, with a smile. + +At seventy-one years of age, Reb Shloimeh lived more indoors than out, +and he used to listen to the teacher instructing his grandchildren. + +"I shall become a doctor in my old age!" he would say, laughing. + +The teacher was one day telling his pupils about mathematical geography. +Reb Shloimeh sat with a smile on his lips, and laughing in his heart at +the little teacher who told "such huge lies" with so much earnestness. + +"The earth revolves," said the teacher to his pupils, and Reb Shloimeh +smiles, and thinks, "He must have seen it!" But the teacher shows it to +be so by the light of reason, and Reb Shloimeh becomes graver, and +ceases smiling; he is endeavoring to grasp the proofs; he wants to ask +questions, but can find none that will do, and he sits there as if he +had lost his tongue. + +The teacher has noticed his grave look, and understands that the old man +is interested in the lesson, and he begins to tell of even greater +wonders. He tells how far the sun is from the earth, how big it is, how +many earths could be made out of it--and Reb Shloimeh begins to smile +again, and at last can bear it no longer. + +"Look here," he exclaimed, "that I cannot and will not listen to! You +may tell me the earth revolves--well, be it so! Very well, I'll allow +you, that, perhaps, according to reason--even--the size of the +earth--the appearance of the earth--do you see?--all that sort of thing. +But the sun! Who has measured the sun! Who, I ask you! Have _you_ been +on it? A pretty thing to say, upon my word!" Reb Shloimeh grew very +excited. The teacher took hold of Reb Shloimeh's hand, and began to +quiet him. He told him by what means the astronomers had discovered all +this, that it was no matter of speculation; he explained the telescope +to him, and talked of mathematical calculations, which he, Reb Shloimeh, +was not able to understand. Reb Shloimeh had nothing to answer, but he +frowned and remained obstinate. "Hê" (he said, and made a contemptuous +motion with his hand), "it's nothing to me, not knowing that or being +able to understand it! Science, indeed! Fiddlesticks!" + +He relapsed into silence, and went on listening to the teacher's +"stories." "We even know," the teacher continued, "what metals are to be +found in the sun." + +"And suppose I won't believe you?" and Reb Shloimeh smiled maliciously. + +"I will explain directly," answered the teacher. + +"And tell us there's a fair in the sky!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, +impatiently. He was very angry, but the teacher took no notice of his +anger. + +"Two hundred years ago," began the teacher, "there lived, in England, a +celebrated naturalist and mathematician, Isaac Newton. It was told of +him that when God said, Let there be light, Newton was born." + +"Psh! I should think, very likely!" broke in Reb Shloimeh. "Why not?" + +The teacher pursued his way, and gave an explanation of spectral +analysis. He spoke at some length, and Reb Shloimeh sat and listened +with close attention. "Now do you understand?" asked the teacher, coming +to an end. + +Reb Shloimeh made no reply, he only looked up from under his brows. + +The teacher went on: + +"The earth," he said, "has stood for many years. Their exact number is +not known, but calculation brings it to several million--" + +"Ê," burst in the old man, "I should like to know what next! I thought +everyone knew _that_--that even _they_--" + +"Wait a bit, Reb Shloimeh," interrupted the teacher, "I will explain +directly." + +"Ma! It makes me sick to hear you," was the irate reply, and Reb +Shloimeh got up and left the room. + + * * * * * + +All that day Reb Shloimeh was in a bad temper, and went about with +knitted brows. He was angry with science, with the teacher, with +himself, because he must needs have listened to it all. + +"Chatter and foolishness! And there I sit and listen to it!" he said to +himself with chagrin. But he remembered the "chatter," something begins +to weigh on his heart and brain, he would like to find a something to +catch hold of, a proof of the vanity and emptiness of their teaching, to +invent some hard question, and stick out a long red tongue at them +all--those nowadays barbarians, those nowadays Newtons. + +"After all, it's mere child's play," he reflects. "It's ridiculous to +take their nonsense to heart." + +"Only their proofs, their proofs!" and the feeling of helplessness comes +over him once more. + +"Ma!" He pulls himself together. "Is it all over with us? Is it all up?! +All up?! The earth revolves! Gammon! As to their explanations--very +wonderful, to be sure! O, of course, it's all of the greatest +importance! Dear me, yes!" + +He is very angry, tears the buttons off his coat, puts his hat straight +on his head, and spits. + +"Apostates, nothing but apostates nowadays," he concludes. Then he +remembers the teacher--with what enthusiasm he spoke! + +His explanations ring in Reb Shloimeh's head, and prove things, and once +more the old gentleman is perplexed. + +Preoccupied, cross, with groans and sighs, he went to bed. But he was +restless all night, turning from one side to the other, and groaning. +His old wife tried to cheer him. + +"Such weather as it is to-day," she said, and coughed. "I have a pain in +the side, too." + +Next morning when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh inquired with a +displeased expression: + +"Well, are you going to tell stories again to-day?" + +"We shall not take geography to-day," answered the teacher. + +"Have your 'astronomers' found out by calculation on which days we may +learn geography?" asked Reb Shloimeh, with malicious irony. + +"No, that's a discovery of mine!" and the teacher smiled. + +"And when have 'your' astronomers decreed the study of geography?" +persisted Reb Shloimeh. + +"To-morrow." + +"To-morrow!" he repeated crossly, and left the room, missing a lesson +for the first time. + +Next day the teacher explained the eclipses of the sun and moon to his +pupils. Reb Shloimeh sat with his chair drawn up to the table, and +listened without a movement. + +"It is all so exact," the teacher wound up his explanation, "that the +astronomers are able to calculate to a minute _when_ there will be an +eclipse, and have never yet made a mistake." + +At these last words Reb Shloimeh nodded in a knowing way, and looked at +the pupils as much as to say, "You ask _me_ about that!" + +The teacher went on to tell of comets, planets, and other suns. Reb +Shloimeh snorted, and was continually interrupting the teacher with +exclamations. "If you don't believe me, go and measure for +yourself!"--"If it is not so, call me a liar!"--"Just so!"--"Within one +yard of it!" + +Reb Shloimeh repaid his Jewish education with interest. There were not +many learned men in the town like Reb Shloimeh. The Rabbis without +flattery called him "a full basket," and Reb Shloimeh could not picture +to himself the existence of sciences other than "Jewish," and when at +last he did picture it, he would not allow that they were right, +unfalsified and right. He was so far intelligent, he had received a so +far enlightened education, that he could understand how among non-Jews +also there are great men. He would even have laughed at anyone who had +maintained the contrary. But that among non-Jews there should be men as +great as any Jewish ones, that he did _not_ believe!--let alone, of +course, still greater ones. + +And now, little by little, Reb Shloimeh began to believe that "their" +learning was not altogether insignificant, for he, "the full basket," +was not finding it any too easy to master. And what he had to deal with +were not empty speculations, unfounded opinions. No, here were +mathematical computations, demonstrations which almost anyone can test +for himself, which impress themselves on the mind! And Reb Shloimeh is +vexed in his soul. He endeavored to cling to his old thoughts, his old +conceptions. He so wished to cry out upon the clear reasoning, the +simple explanations, with the phrases that are on the lips of every +ignorant obstructionist. And yet he felt that he was unjust, and he gave +up disputing with the teacher, as he paid close attention to the +latter's demonstrations. And the teacher would say quite simply: + +"One _can_ measure," he would say, "why not? Only it takes a lot of +learning." + +When the teacher was at the door, Reb Shloimeh stayed him with a +question. + +"Then," he asked angrily, "the whole of 'your' learning is nothing but +astronomy and geography?" + +"Oh, no!" said the teacher, "there's a lot besides--a lot!" + +"For instance?" + +"Do you want me to tell you standing on one leg?" + +"Well, yes, 'on one leg,'" he answered impatiently, as though in anger. + +"But one can't tell you 'on one leg,'" said the teacher. "If you like, I +shall come on Sabbath, and we can have a chat." + +"Sabbath?" repeated Reb Shloimeh in a dissatisfied tone. + +"Sabbath, because I can't come at any other time," said the teacher. + +"Then let it be Sabbath," said Reb Shloimeh, reflectively. + +"But soon after dinner," he called after the teacher, who was already +outside the door. "And everything else is as right as your astronomy?" +he shouted, when the teacher had already gone a little way. + +"You will see!" and the teacher smiled. + + * * * * * + +Never in his whole life had Reb Shloimeh waited for a Sabbath as he +waited for this one, and the two days that came before it seemed very +long to him; he never relaxed his frown, or showed a cheerful face the +whole time. And he was often seen, during those two days, to lift his +hands to his forehead. He went about as though there lay upon him a +heavy weight, which he wanted to throw off; or as if he had a very +disagreeable bit of business before him, and wished he could get it +over. + +On Sabbath he could hardly wait for the teacher's appearance. "You +wanted a lot of asking," he said to him reproachfully. + +The old lady went to take her nap, the grandchildren to their play, and +Reb Shloimeh took the snuff-box between his fingers, leant against the +back of the "grandfather's chair" in which he was sitting, and listened +with close attention to the teacher's words. + +The teacher talked a long time, mentioned the names of sciences, and +explained their meaning, and Reb Shloimeh repeated each explanation in +brief. "Physics, then, is the science of--" "That means, then, that we +have here--that physiology explains--" + +The teacher would help him, and then immediately begin to talk of +another branch of science. By the time the old lady woke up, the teacher +had given examples of anatomy, physiology, physics, chemistry, zoology, +and sociology. + +It was quite late; people were coming back from the Afternoon Service, +and those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the sky. But +Reb Shloimeh had forgotten in what sort of world he was living. He sat +with wrinkled forehead and drawn brows, listening attentively, seeing +nothing before him but the teacher's face, only catching up his every +word. + +"You are still talking?" asked the old lady, in astonishment, rubbing +her eyes. + +Reb Shloimeh turned his head toward his wife with a dazed look, as +though wondering what she meant by her question. + +"Oho!" said the old lady, "you only laugh at us women!" + +Reb Shloimeh drew his brows closer together, wrinkled his forehead still +more, and once more fastened his eyes on the teacher's lips. + +"It will soon be time to light the fire," muttered the old lady. + +The teacher glanced at the clock. "It's late," he said. + +"I should think it was!" broke in the old lady. "Why I was allowed to +sleep so long, I'm sure I don't know! People get to talking and even +forget about tea." + +Reb Shloimeh gave a look out of the window. + +"O wa!" he exclaimed, somewhat vexed, "they are already coming out of +Shool, the service is over! What a thing it is to sit talking! O wa!" + +He sprang from his seat, gave the pane a rub with his hand, and began to +recite the Afternoon Prayer. The teacher put on his things, but "Wait!" +Reb Shloimeh signed to him with his hand. + +Reb Shloimeh finished reciting "Incense." + +"When shall you teach the children all that?" he asked then, looking +into the prayer-book with a scowl. + +"Not for a long time, not so quickly," answered the teacher. "The +children cannot understand everything." + +"I should think not, anything so wonderful!" replied Reb Shloimeh, +ironically, gazing at the prayer-book and beginning "Happy are we." He +swallowed the prayers as he said them, half of every word; no matter how +he wrinkled his forehead, he could not expel the stranger thoughts from +his brain, and fix his attention on the prayers. After the service he +tried taking up a book, but it was no good, his head was a jumble of +all the new sciences. By means of the little he had just learned, he +wanted to understand and know everything, to fashion a whole body out of +a single hair, and he thought, and thought, and thought.... + +Sunday, when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh told him that he wished to +have a little talk with him. Meantime he sat down to listen. The hour +during which the teacher taught the children was too long for him, and +he scarcely took his eyes off the clock. + +"Do you want another pupil?" he asked the teacher, stepping with him +into his own room. He felt as though he were getting red, and he made a +very angry face. + +"Why not?" answered the teacher, looking hard into Reb Shloimeh's face. +Reb Shloimeh looked at the floor, his brows, as was usual with him in +those days, drawn together. + +"You understand me--a pupil--" he stammered, "you understand--not a +little boy--a pupil--an elderly man--you understand--quite another +sort--" + +"Well, well, we shall see!" answered the teacher, smiling. + +"I mean myself!" he snapped out with great displeasure, as if he had +been forced to confess some very evil deed. "Well, I have sinned--what +do you want of me?" + +"Oh, but I should be delighted!" and the teacher smiled. + +"I always said I meant to be a doctor!" said Reb Shloimeh, trying to +joke. But his features contracted again directly, and he began to talk +about the terms, and it was arranged that every day for an hour and a +half the teacher should read to him and explain the sciences. To begin +with, Reb Shloimeh chose physiology, sociology, and mathematical +geography. + + * * * * * + +Days, weeks, and months have gone by, and Reb Shloimeh has become +depressed, very depressed. He does not sleep at night, he has lost his +appetite, doesn't care to talk to people. + +Bad, bitter thoughts oppress him. + +For seventy years he had not only known nothing, but, on the contrary, +he had known everything wrong, understood head downwards. And it seemed +to him that if he had known in his youth what he knew now, he would have +lived differently, that his years would have been useful to others. + +He could find no stain on his life--it was one long record of deeds of +charity; but they appeared to him now so insignificant, so useless, and +some of them even mischievous. Looking round him, he saw no traces of +them left. The rich man of whom he used to beg donations is no poorer +for them, and the pauper for whom he begged them is the same pauper as +before. It is true, he had always thought of the paupers as sacks full +of holes, and had only stuffed things into them because he had a soft +heart, and could not bear to see a look of disappointment, or a tear +rolling down the pale cheek of a hungry pauper. His own little world, as +he had found it and as it was now, seemed to him much worse than before, +in spite of all the good things he had done in it. + +Not one good rich man! Not one genuine pauper! They are all just as +hungry and their palms itch--there is no easing them. Times get harder, +the world gets poorer. Now he understands the reason of it all, now it +all lies before him as clear as on a map--he would be able to make every +one understand. Only now--now it was getting late--he has no strength +left. His spent life grieves him. If he had not been so active, such a +"father of the community," it would not have grieved him so much. But he +_had_ had a great influence in the town, and this influence had been +badly, blindly used! And Reb Shloimeh grew sadder day by day. + +He began to feel a pain at his heart, a stitch in the side, a burning in +his brain, and he was wrapt in his thoughts. Reb Shloimeh was +philosophizing. + +To be of use to somebody, he reflected, means to leave an impress of +good in their life. One ought to help once for all, so that the other +need never come for help again. That can be accomplished by wakening and +developing a man's intelligence, so that he may always know for himself +wherein his help lies. + +And in such work he would have spent his life. If he had only understood +long ago, ah, how useful he would have been! And a shudder runs through +him. + +Tears of vexation come more than once into his eyes. + + * * * * * + +It was no secret in the town that old Reb Shloimeh spent two to three +hours daily sitting with the teacher, only what they did together, that +nobody knew. They tried to worm something out of the maid, but what was +to be got out of a "glomp with two eyes," whose one reply was, "I don't +know." They scolded her for it. "How can you not know, glomp?" they +exclaimed. "Aren't you sometimes in the room with them?" + +"Look here, good people, what's the use of coming to me?" the maid would +cry. "How can I know, sitting in the kitchen, what they are about? When +I bring in the tea, I see them talking, and I go!" + +"Dull beast!" they would reply. Then they left her, and betook +themselves to the grandchildren, who knew nothing, either. + +"They have tea," was their answer to the question, "What does +grandfather do with the teacher?" + +"But what do they talk about, sillies?" + +"We haven't heard!" the children answered gravely. + +They tried the old lady. + +"Is it my business?" she answered. + +They tried to go in to Reb Shloimeh's house, on the pretext of some +business or other, but that didn't succeed, either. At last, a few near +and dear friends asked Reb Shloimeh himself. + +"How people do gossip!" he answered. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"We just sit and talk!" + +There it remained. The matter was discussed all over the town. Of +course, nobody was satisfied. But he pacified them little by little. + +The apostate teacher must turn hot and cold with him! + +They imagined that they were occupied with research, and that Reb +Shloimeh was opening the teacher's eyes for him--and they were pacified. +When Reb Shloimeh suddenly fell on melancholy, it never came into +anyone's head that there might be a connection between this and the +conversations. The old lady settled that it was a question of the +stomach, which had always troubled him, and that perhaps he had taken a +chill. At his age such things were frequent. "But how is one to know, +when he won't speak?" she lamented, and wondered which would be best, +cod-liver oil or dried raspberries. + +Every one else said that he was already in fear of death, and they +pitied him greatly. "That is a sickness which no doctor can cure," +people said, and shook their heads with sorrowful compassion. They +talked to him by the hour, and tried to prevent him from being alone +with his thoughts, but it was all no good; he only grew more depressed, +and would often not speak at all. + +"Such a man, too, what a pity!" they said, and sighed. "He's pining +away--given up to the contemplation of death." + +"And if you come to think, why should he fear death?" they wondered. "If +_he_ fears it, what about us? Och! och! och! Have we so much to show in +the next world?" And Reb Shloimeh had a lot to show. Jews would have +been glad of a tenth part of his world-to-come, and Christians declared +that he was a true Christian, with his love for his fellow-men, and +promised him a place in Paradise. "Reb Shloimeh is goodness itself," the +town was wont to say. His one lifelong occupation had been the affairs +of the community. "They are my life and my delight," he would repeat to +his intimate friends, "as indispensable to me as water to a fish." He +was a member of all the charitable societies. The Talmud Torah was +established under his own roof, and pretty nearly maintained at his +expense. The town called him the "father of the community," and all +unfortunate, poor, and bitter hearts blessed him unceasingly. + +Reb Shloimeh was the one person in the town almost without an enemy, +perhaps the one in the whole province. Rich men grumbled at him. He was +always after their money--always squeezing them for charities. They +called him the old fool, the old donkey, but without meaning what they +said. They used to laugh at him, to make jokes upon him, of course among +themselves; but they had no enmity against him. They all, with a full +heart, wished him joy of his tranquil life. + +Reb Shloimeh was born, and had spent years, in wealth. After making an +excellent marriage, he set up a business. His wife was the leading +spirit within doors, the head of the household, and his whole life had +been apparently a success. + +When he had married his last child, and found himself a grandfather, he +retired from business, and lived his last years on the interest of his +fortune. + +Free from the hate and jealousy of neighbors, pleasant and satisfactory +in every respect, such was Reb Shloimeh's life, and for all that he +suddenly became melancholy! It can be nothing but the fear of death! + + * * * * * + +But very soon Reb Shloimeh, as it were with a wave of the hand, +dismissed the past altogether. + +He said to himself with a groan that what had been was over and done; he +would never grow young again, and once more a shudder went through him +at the thought, and there came again the pain in his side and caught his +breath, but Reb Shloimeh took no notice, and went on thinking. +"Something must be done!" he said to himself, in the tone of one who has +suddenly lost his whole fortune--the fortune he has spent his life in +getting together, and there is nothing for him but to start work again +with his five fingers. + +And Reb Shloimeh started. He began with the Talmud Torah, where he had +already long provided for the children's bodily needs--food and +clothing. + +Now he would supply them with spiritual things--instruction and +education. + +He dismissed the old teachers, and engaged young ones in their stead, +even for Jewish subjects. Out of the Talmud Torah he wanted to make a +little university. He already fancied it a success. He closed his eyes, +laid his forehead on his hands, and a sweet, happy smile parted his +lips. He pictured to himself the useful people who would go forth out of +the Talmud Torah. Now he can die happy, he thinks. But no, he does not +want to die! He wants to live! To live and to work, work, work! He will +not and cannot see an end to his life! Reb Shloimeh feels more and more +cheerful, lively, and fresh--to work----to work--till-- + +The whole town was in commotion. + +There was a perfect din in the Shools, in the streets, in the houses. +Hypocrites and crooked men, who had never before been seen or heard of, +led the dance. + +"To make Gentiles out of the children, forsooth! To turn the Talmud +Torah into a school! That we won't allow! No matter if we have to turn +the world upside down, no matter what happens!" + +Reb Shloimeh heard the cries, and made as though he heard nothing. He +thought it would end there, that no one would venture to oppose him +further. + +"What do you say to that?" he asked the teachers. "Fanaticism has broken +out already!" + +"It will give trouble," replied the teachers. + +"Eh, nonsense!" said Reb Shloimeh, with conviction. But on Sabbath, at +the Reading of the Law, he saw that he had been mistaken. The opposition +had collected, and they got onto the platform, and all began speaking at +once. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, beyond a word +here and there, or the fragment of a sentence: "--none of it!" "we won't +allow--!" "--made into Gentiles!" + +Reb Shloimeh sat in his place by the east wall, his hands on the desk +where lay his Pentateuch. He had taken off his spectacles, and glanced +at the platform, put them on again, and was once more reading the +Pentateuch. They saw this from the platform, and began to shout louder +than ever. Reb Shloimeh stood up, took off his prayer-scarf, and was +moving toward the door, when he heard some one call out, with a bang of +his fist on the platform: + +"With the consent of the Rabbis and the heads of the community, and in +the name of the Holy Torah, it is resolved to take the children away +from the Talmud Torah, seeing that in place of the Torah there is +uncleanness----" + +Reb Shloimeh grew pale, and felt a rent in his heart. He stared at the +platform with round eyes and open mouth. + +"The children are to be made into Gentiles," shouted the person on the +platform meantime, "and we have plenty of Gentiles, thank God, already! +Thus may they perish, with their name and their remembrance! We are not +short of Gentiles--there are more every day! And hatred increases, and +God knows what the Jews are coming to! Whoso has God in his heart, and +is jealous for the honor of the Law, let him see to it that the children +cease going to the place of peril!" + +Reb Shloimeh wanted to call out, "Silence, you scoundrel!" The words all +but rolled off his tongue, but he contained himself, and moved on. + +"The one who obeys will be blessed," proclaimed the individual on the +platform, "and whoso despises the decree, his end shall be Gehenna, with +that of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who sinned and made Israel to sin!" + +With these last words the speaker threw a fiery glance at Reb Shloimeh. + +A quiver ran through the Shool, and all eyes were turned on Reb +Shloimeh, expecting him to begin abusing the speaker. A lively scene was +anticipated. But Reb Shloimeh smiled. + +He quietly handed his prayer-scarf to the beadle, wished the bystanders +"good Sabbath," and walked out of Shool, leaving them all disconcerted. + + * * * * * + +That Sabbath Reb Shloimeh was the quietest man in the whole town. He was +convinced that the interdict would have no effect on anyone. "People +are not so foolish as all that," he thought, "and they wouldn't treat +_him_ in that way!" He sat and laid plans for carrying on the education +in the Talmud Torah, and he felt so light of heart that he sang to +himself for very pleasure. + +The old wife, meanwhile, was muttering and moaning. She had all her life +been quite content with her husband and everything he did, and had +always done her best to help him, hoping that in the world to come she +would certainly share his portion of immortality. And now she saw with +horror that he was like to throw away his future. But how ever could it +be? she wondered, and was bathed in tears: "What has come over you? What +has happened to make you like that? They are not just to you, are they, +when they say that about taking children and making Gentiles of them?" +Reb Shloimeh smiled. "Do you think," he said to her, "that I have gone +mad in my old age? Don't be afraid. I'm in my right mind, and you shall +not lose your place in Paradise." + +But the wife was not satisfied with the reply, and continued to mutter +and to weep. There were goings-on in the town, too. The place was aboil +with excitement. Of course they talked about Reb Shloimeh; nobody could +make out what had come to him all of a sudden. + +"That is the teacher's work!" explained one of a knot of talkers. + +"And we thought Reb Shloimeh such a sage, such a clever man, so +book-learned. How can the teacher (may his name perish!) have talked him +over?" + +"It's a pity on the children's account!" one would exclaim here and +there. "In the Talmud Torah, under his direction, they wanted for +nothing, and what's to become of them now! They'll be running wild in +the streets!" + +"What then? Do you mean it would be better to make Gentiles of them?" + +"Well, there! Of course, I understand!" he would hasten to say, +penitently. And a resolution was passed, to the effect that the children +should not be allowed to attend the Talmud Torah. + +Reb Shloimeh stood at his window, and watched the excited groups in the +street, saw how the men threw themselves about, rocked themselves, bit +their beards, described half-circles with their thumbs, and he smiled. + +In the evening the teachers came and told him what had been said in the +town, and how all held that the children were not to be allowed to go to +the Talmud Torah. Reb Shloimeh was a little disturbed, but he composed +himself again and thought: + +"Eh, they will quiet down, never mind! They won't do it to _me_!----" + +Entering the Talmud Torah on Sunday, he was greeted by four empty walls. +Even two orphans, who had no relations or protector in the town, had not +come. They had been frightened and talked at and not allowed to attend, +and free meals had been secured for all of them, so that they should not +starve. + +For the moment Reb Shloimeh lost his head. He glanced at the teachers as +though ashamed in their presence, and his glance said, "What is to be +done now?" + +Suddenly he pulled himself together. + +"No!" he exclaimed, "they shall not get the better of me," and he ran +out of the Talmud Torah, and was gone. + +He ran from house to house, to the parents and relations of the +children. But they all looked askance at him, and he accomplished +nothing: they all kept to it--"No!" + +"Come, don't be silly! Send, send the children to the Talmud Torah," he +begged. "You will see, you will not regret it!" + +And he drew a picture for them of the sort of people the children would +become. + +But it was no use. + +"_We_ haven't got to manage the world," they answered him. "We have +lived without all that, and our children will live as we are living now. +We have no call to make Gentiles of them!" + +"We know, we know! People needn't come to us with stories," they would +say in another house. "We don't intend to sell our souls!" was the cry +in a third. + +"And who says I have sold mine?" Reb Shloimeh would ask sharply. + +"How should we know? Besides, who was talking of you?" they answered +with a sweet smile. + +Reb Shloimeh reached home tired and depressed. The old wife had a shock +on seeing him. + +"Dear Lord!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "What is the matter with +you? What makes you look like that?" + +The teachers, who were there waiting for him, asked no questions: they +had only to look at his ghastly appearance to know what had happened. + +Reb Shloimeh sank into his arm-chair. + +"Nothing," he said, looking sideways, but meaning it for the teachers. + +"Nothing is nothing!" and they betook themselves to consoling him. "We +will find something else to do, get hold of some other children, or else +wait a little--they'll ask to be taken back presently." + +Reb Shloimeh did not hear them. He had let his head sink on to his +breast, turned his look sideways, and thoughts he could not piece +together, fragments of thoughts, went round and round in the drooping +head. + +"Why? Why?" He asked himself over and over. "To do such a thing to _me_! +Well, there you are! There you have it!--You've lived your life--like a +man!--" + +His heart felt heavy and hurt him, and his brain grew warm, warm. In one +minute there ran through his head the impression which his so nearly +finished life had made on him of late, and immediately after it all the +plans he had thought out for setting to right his whole past life by +means of the little bit left him. And now it was all over and done! +"Why? Why?" he asked himself without ceasing, and could not understand +it. + +He felt his old heart bursting with love to all men. It beat more and +more strongly, and would not cease from loving; and he would fain have +seen everyone so happy, so happy! He would have worked with his last bit +of strength, he would have drawn his last breath for the cause to which +he had devoted himself. He is no longer conscious of the whereabouts of +his limbs, he feels his head growing heavier, his feet cold, and it is +dark before his eyes. + +When he came to himself again, he was in bed; on his head was a bandage +with ice; the old wife was lamenting; the teachers stood not far from +the bed, and talked among themselves. He wanted to lift his hand and +draw it across his forehead, but somehow he does not feel his hand at +all. He looks at it--it lies stretched out beside him. And Reb Shloimeh +understood what had happened to him. + +"A stroke!" he thought, "I am finished, done for!" + +He tried to give a whistle and make a gesture with his hand: +"Verfallen!" but the lips would not meet properly, and the hand never +moved. + +"There you are, done for!" the lips whispered. He glanced round, and +fixed his eyes on the teachers, and then on his wife, wishing to read in +their faces whether there was danger, whether he was dying, or whether +there was still hope. He looked, and could not make out anything. Then, +whispering, he called one of the teachers, whose looks had met his, to +his side. + +The teacher came running. + +"Done for, eh?" asked Reb Shloimeh. + +"No, Reb Shloimeh, the doctors give hope," the teacher replied, so +earnestly that Reb Shloimeh's spirits revived. + +"Nu, nu," said Reb Shloimeh, as though he meant, "So may it be! Out of +your mouth into God's ears!" + +The other teachers all came nearer. + +"Good?" whispered Reb Shloimeh, "good, ha? There's a hero for you!" he +smiled. + +"Never mind," they said cheeringly, "you will get well again, and work, +and do many things yet!" + +"Well, well, please God!" he answered, and looked away. + +And Reb Shloimeh really got better every day. The having lived wisely +and the will to live longer saved him. + +The first time that he was able to move a hand or lift a foot, a broad, +sweet smile spread itself over his face, and a fire kindled in his all +but extinguished eyes. + +"Good luck to you!" he cried out to those around. He was very cheerful +in himself, and began to think once more about doing something or other. +"People must be taught, they must be taught, even if the world turn +upside down," he thought, and rubbed his hands together with impatience. + +"If it's not to be in the Talmud Torah, it must be somewhere else!" And +he set to work thinking where it should be. He recalled all the +neighbors to his memory, and suddenly grew cheerful. + +Not far away there lived a bookbinder, who employed as many as ten +workmen. They work sometimes from fifteen to sixteen hours, and have no +strength left for study. One must teach _them_, he thinks. The master is +not likely to object. Reb Shloimeh was the making of him, he it was who +protected him, introduced him into all the best families, and finally +set him on his feet. + +Reb Shloimeh grows more and more lively, and is continually trying to +rise from his couch. + +Once out of bed, he could hardly endure to stay in the room, and how +happy he felt, when, leaning on a stick, he stept out into the street! +He hurried in the direction of the bookbinder's. + +He was convinced that people's feelings toward him had changed for the +better, that they would rejoice on seeing him. + +How he looked forward to seeing a friendly smile on every face! He would +have counted himself the happiest of men, if he had been able to hope +that now everything was different, and would come right. + +But he did not see the smile. + +The town looked upon the apoplectic stroke as God's punishment--it was +obvious. "Aha!" they had cried on hearing of it, and everyone saw in it +another proof, and it also was "obvious"--of the fact that there is a +God in the world, and that people cannot do just what they like. The +great fanatics overflowed with eloquence, and saw in it an act of +Heavenly vengeance. "Serves him right! Serves him right!" they thought. +"Whose fault is it?" people replied, when some one reminded them that it +was very sad--such a man as he had been, "Who told him to do it? He has +himself to thank for his misfortunes." + +The town had never ceased talking of him the whole time. Every one was +interested in knowing how he was, and what was the matter with him. And +when they heard that he was better, that he was getting well, they +really were pleased; they were sure that he would give up all his +foolish plans, and understand that God had punished him, and that he +would be again as before. + +But it soon became known that he clung to his wickedness, and people +ceased to rejoice. + +The Rabbi and his fanatical friends came to see him one day by way of +visiting the sick. Reb Shloimeh felt inclined to ask them if they had +come to stare at him as one visited by a miracle, but he refrained, and +surveyed them with indifference. + +"Well, how are you, Reb Shloimeh?" they asked. + +"Gentiles!" answered Reb Shloimeh, almost in spite of himself, and +smiled. + +The Rabbi and the others became confused. + +They sat a little while, couldn't think of anything to say, and got up +from their seats. Then they stood a bit, wished him a speedy return to +health, and went away, without hearing any answer from Reb Shloimeh to +their "good night." + +It was not long before the whole town knew of the visit, and it began to +boil like a kettle. + +To commit such sin is to play with destiny. Once you are in, there is no +getting out! Give the devil a hair, and he'll snatch at the whole beard. + +So when Reb Shloimeh showed himself in the street, they stared at him +and shook their heads, as though to say, "Such a man--and gone to ruin!" + +Reb Shloimeh saw it, and it cut him to the heart. Indeed, it brought the +tears to his eyes, and he began to walk quicker in the direction of the +bookbinder's. + +At the bookbinder's they received him in friendly fashion, with a hearty +"Welcome!" but he fancied that here also they looked at him askance, +and therefore he gave a reason for his coming. + +"Walking is hard work," he said, "one must have stopping-places." + +With this same excuse he went there every day. He would sit for an hour +or two, talking, telling stories, and at last he began to tell the +"stories" which the teacher had told. + +He sat in the centre of the room, and talked away merrily, with a pun +here and a laugh there, and interested the workmen deeply. Sometimes +they would all of one accord stop working, open their mouths, fix their +eyes, and hang on his lips with an intelligent smile. + +Or else they stood for a few minutes tense, motionless as statues, till +Reb Shloimeh finished, before the master should interpose. + +"Work, work--you will hear it all in time!" he would say, in a cross, +dissatisfied tone. + +And the workmen would unwillingly bend their backs once more over their +task, but Reb Shloimeh remained a little thrown out. He lost the thread +of what he was telling, began buttoning and unbuttoning his coat, and +glanced guiltily at the binder. + +But he went his own way nevertheless. + +As to his hearers, he was overjoyed with them. When he saw that the +workmen began to take interest in every book that was brought them to be +bound, he smiled happily, and his eyes sparkled with delight. + +And if it happened to be a book treating of the subjects on which they +had heard something from Reb Shloimeh, they threw themselves upon it, +nearly tore it to pieces, and all but came to blows as to who should +have the binding of it. + +Reb Shloimeh began to feel that he was doing something, that he was +being really useful, and he was supremely happy. + +The town, of course, was aware of Reb Shloimeh's constant visits to the +bookbinder's, and quickly found out what he did there. + +"He's just off his head!" they laughed, and shrugged their shoulders. +They even laughed in Reb Shloimeh's face, but he took no notice of it. + +His pleasure, however, came to a speedy end. One day the binder spoke +out. + +"Reb Shloimeh," he said shortly, "you prevent us from working with your +stories. What do you mean by it? You come and interfere with the work." + +"But do I disturb?" he asked. "They go on working all the time----" + +"And a pretty way of working," answered the bookbinder. "The boys are +ready enough at finding an excuse for idling as it is! And why do you +choose me? There are plenty of other workshops----" + +It was an honest "neck and crop" business, and there was nothing left +for Reb Shloimeh but to take up his stick and go. + +"Nothing--again!" he whispered. + +There was a sting in his heart, a beating in his temples, and his head +burned. + +"Nothing--again! This time it's all over. I must die--die--a story +_with_ an end." + +Had he been young, he would have known what to do. He would never have +begun to think about death, but now--where was the use of living on? +What was there to wait for? All over!--all over!-- + +It was as much as he could do to get home. He sat down in the arm-chair, +laid his head back, and thought. + +He pictured to himself the last weeks at the bookbinder's and the change +that had taken place in the workmen; how they had appeared +better-mannered, more human, more intelligent. It seemed to him that he +had implanted in them the love of knowledge and the inclination to +study, had put them in the way of viewing more rightly what went on +around them. He had been of some account with them--and all of a +sudden--! + +"No!" he said to himself. "They will come to me--they must come!" he +thought, and fixed his eyes on the door. + +He even forgot that they worked till nine o'clock at night, and the +whole evening he never took his eyes off the door. + +The time flew, it grew later and later, and the book-binders did not +come. + +At last he could bear it no longer, and went out into the street; +perhaps he would see them, and then he would call them in. + +It was dark in the street; the gas lamps, few and far between, scarcely +gave any light. A chilly autumn night; the air was saturated with +moisture, and there was dreadful mud under foot. There were very few +passers-by, and Reb Shloimeh remained standing at his door. + +When he heard a sound of footsteps or voices, his heart began to beat +quicker. His old wife came out three times to call him into the house +again, but he did not hear her, and remained standing outside. + +The street grew still. There was nothing more to be heard but the +rattles of the night-watchmen. Reb Shloimeh gave a last look into the +darkness, as though trying to see someone, and then, with a groan, he +went indoors. + +Next morning he felt very weak, and stayed in bed. He began to feel that +his end was near, that he was but a guest tarrying for a day. + +"It's all the same, all the same!" he said to himself, thinking quietly +about death. + +All sorts of ideas went through his head. He thought as it were +unconsciously, without giving himself a clear account of what he was +thinking of. + +A variety of images passed through his mind, scenes out of his long +life, certain people, faces he had seen here and there, comrades of his +childhood, but they all had no interest for him. He kept his eyes fixed +on the door of his room, waiting for death, as though it would come in +by the door. + +He lay like that the whole day. His wife came in continually, and asked +him questions, and he was silent, not taking his eyes off the door, or +interrupting the train of his thoughts. It seemed as if he had ceased +either to see or to hear. In the evening the teachers began coming. + +"Finished!" said Reb Shloimeh, looking at the door. Suddenly he heard a +voice he knew, and raised his head. + +"We have come to visit the sick," said the voice. + +The door opened, and there came in four workmen at once. + +At first Reb Shloimeh could not believe his eyes, but soon a smile +appeared upon his lips, and he tried to sit up. + +"Come, come!" he said joyfully, and his heart beat rapidly with +pleasure. + +The workmen remained standing some way from the bed, not venturing to +approach the sick man, but Reb Shloimeh called them to him. + +"Nearer, nearer, children!" he said. + +They came a little nearer. + +"Come here, to me!" and he pointed to the bed. + +They came up to the bed. + +"Well, what are you all about?" he asked with a smile. + +The workmen were silent. + +"Why did you not come last night?" he asked, and looked at them smiling. + +The workmen were silent, and shuffled with their feet. + +"How are you, Reb Shloimeh?" asked one of them. + +"Very well, very well," answered Reb Shloimeh, still smiling. "Thank +you, children! Thank you!" + +"Sit down, children, sit down." he said after a pause. "I will tell you +some more stories." + +"It will tire you, Reb Shloimeh," said a workman. "When you are +better----" + +"Sit down, sit down!" said Reb Shloimeh, impatiently. "That's _my_ +business!" + +The workmen exchanged glances with the teachers and the teachers signed +to them _not_ to sit down. + +"Not to-day, Reb Shloimeh, another time, when you--" + +"Sit down, sit down!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, "Do me the pleasure!" + +Once more the workmen exchanged looks with the teachers, and, at a sign +from them, they sat down. + +Reb Shloimeh began telling them the long story of the human race, he +spoke with ardor, and it was long since his voice had sounded as it +sounded then. + +He spoke for a long, long time. + +They interrupted him two or three times, and reminded him that it was +bad for him to talk so much. But he only signified with a gesture that +they were to let him alone. + +"I am getting better," he said, and went on. + +At length the workmen rose from their seats. + +"Let us go, Reb Shloimeh. It's getting late for us," they begged. + +"True, true," he replied, "but to-morrow, do you hear? Look here, +children, to-morrow!" he said, giving them his hand. + +The workmen promised to come. They moved away a few steps, and then Reb +Shloimeh called them back. + +"And the others?" he inquired feebly, as though he were ashamed of +asking. + +"They were lazy, they wouldn't come," was the reply. + +"Well, well," he said, in a tone that meant "Well, well, I know, you +needn't say any more, but look here, to-morrow!" + +"Now I am well again," he whispered as the workmen went out. He could +scarcely move a limb, but he was very cheerful, looked at every one with +a happy smile, and his eyes shone. + +"Now I am well," he whispered when they had been obliged to put him into +bed and cover him up. "Now I am well," he repeated, feeling the while +that his head was strangely heavy, his heart faint, and that he was very +poorly. Before many minutes he had fallen into a state of +unconsciousness. + +A dreadful, heartbreaking cry recalled him to himself. He opened his +eyes. The room was full of people. In many eyes were tears. + +"Soon, then," he thought, and began to remember something. + +"What o'clock is it?" he asked of the person who stood beside him. + +"Five." + +"They stop work at nine," he whispered to himself, and called one of the +teachers to him. + +"When the workmen come, they are to let them in, do you hear!" he said. +The teacher promised. + +"They will come at nine," added Reb Shloimeh. + +In a little while he asked to write his will. After writing the will, he +undressed and closed his eyes. + +They thought he had fallen asleep, but Reb Shloimeh was not asleep. He +lay and thought, not about his past life, but about the future, the +future in which men would live. He thought of what man would come to be. +He pictured to himself a bright, glad world, in which all men would be +equal in happiness, knowledge, and education, and his dying heart beat a +little quicker, while his face expressed joy and contentment. He opened +his eyes, and saw beside him a couple of teachers. + +"And will it really be?" he asked and smiled. + +"Yes, Reb Shloimeh," they answered, without knowing to what his question +referred, for his face told them it was something good. The smile +accentuated itself on his lips. + +Once again he lost himself in thought. + +He wanted to imagine that happy world, and see with his mind's eye +nothing but happy people, educated people, and he succeeded. + +The picture was not very distinct. He was imagining a great heap of +happiness--happiness with a body and soul, and he felt _himself_ so +happy. + +A sound of lamentation disturbed him. + +"Why do they weep?" he wondered. "Every one will have a good +time--everyone!" + +He opened his eyes; there were already lights burning. The room was +packed with people. Beside him stood all his children, come together to +take leave of their father. + +He fixed his gaze on the little grandchildren, a gaze of love and +gladness. + +"_They_ will see the happy time," he thought. + +He was just going to ask the people to stop lamenting, but at that +moment his eye caught the workmen of the evening before. + +"Come here, come here, children!" and he raised his voice a little, and +made a sign with his head. People did not know what he meant. He begged +them to send the workmen to him, and it was done. + +He tried to sit up; those around helped him. + +"Thank you--children--for coming--thank you!" he said. "Stop--weeping!" +he implored of the bystanders. "I want to die quietly--I want every one +to--to--be as happy--as I am! Live, all of you, in the--hope of a--good +time--as I die--in--that hope. Dear chil--dren--" and he turned to the +workmen, "I told you--last night--how man has lived so far. How he lives +now, you know for yourselves--but the coming time will be a very happy +one: all will be happy--all! Only work honestly, and learn! Learn, +children! Everything will be all right! All will be hap----" + +A sweet smile appeared on his lips, and Reb Shloimeh died. + +In the town they--but what else _could_ they say in the town of a man +who had died without repeating the Confession, without a tremor at his +heart, without any sign of repentance? What else _could_ they say of a +man who spent his last minutes in telling people to learn, to educate +themselves? What else _could_ they say of a man who left his whole +capital to be devoted to educational purposes and schools? + +What was to be expected of them, when his own family declared in court +that their father was not responsible when he made his last will? + + * * * * * + +Forgive them, Reb Shloimeh, for they mean well--they know not what they +say and do. + + + + +S. LIBIN + + +Pen name of Israel Hurewitz; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government of +Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; assistant to a druggist at thirteen; +went to London at twenty, and, after seven months there, to New York +(1893); worked as capmaker; first sketch, "A Sifz vun a Arbeiterbrust"; +contributor to Die Arbeiterzeitung, Das Abendblatt, Die Zukunft, +Vorwärts, etc.; prolific Yiddish playwright and writer of sketches on +New York Jewish life; dramas to the number of twenty-six produced on the +stage; collected works, Geklibene Skizzen, 1 vol., New York, 1902, and 2 +vols., New York, 1907. + + + + +A PICNIC + + +Ask Shmuel, the capmaker, just for a joke, if he would like to come for +a picnic! He'll fly out at you as if you had invited him to a swing on +the gallows. The fact is, he and his Sarah once _went_ for a picnic, and +the poor man will remember it all his days. + +It was on a Sabbath towards the end of August. Shmuel came home from +work, and said to his wife: + +"Sarah, dear!" + +"Well, husband?" was her reply. + +"I want to have a treat," said Shmuel, as though alarmed at the boldness +of the idea. + +"What sort of a treat? Shall you go to the swimming-bath to-morrow?" + +"Ett! What's the fun of that?" + +"Then, what have you thought of by way of an exception? A glass of ice +water for supper?" + +"Not that, either." + +"A whole siphon?" + +Shmuel denied with a shake of the head. + +"Whatever can it be!" wondered Sarah. "Are you going to fetch a pint of +beer?" + +"What should I want with beer?" + +"Are you going to sleep on the roof?" + +"Wrong again!" + +"To buy some more carbolic acid, and drive out the bugs?" + +"Not a bad idea," observed Shmuel, "but that is not it, either." + +"Well, then, whatever is it, for goodness' sake! The moon?" asked Sarah, +beginning to lose patience. "What have you been and thought of? Tell me +once for all, and have done with it!" + +And Shmuel said: + +"Sarah, you know, we belong to a lodge." + +"Of course I do!" and Sarah gave him a look of mingled astonishment and +alarm. "It's not more than a week since you took a whole dollar there, +and I'm not likely to have forgotten what it cost you to make it up. +What is the matter now? Do they want another?" + +"Try again!" + +"Out with it!" + +"I--want us, Sarah," stammered Shmuel,--"to go for a picnic." + +"A picnic!" screamed Sarah. "Is that the only thing you have left to +wish for?" + +"Look here, Sarah, we toil and moil the whole year through. It's nothing +but trouble and worry, trouble and worry. Call that living! When do we +ever have a bit of pleasure?" + +"Well, what's to be done?" said his wife, in a subdued tone. + +"The summer will soon be over, and we haven't set eyes on a green blade +of grass. We sit day and night sweating in the dark." + +"True enough!" sighed his wife, and Shmuel spoke louder: + +"Let us have an outing, Sarah. Let us enjoy ourselves for once, and give +the children a breath of fresh air, let us have a change, if it's only +for five minutes!" + +"What will it cost?" asks Sarah, suddenly, and Shmuel has soon made the +necessary calculation. + +"A family ticket is only thirty cents, for Yossele, Rivele, Hannahle, +and Berele; for Resele and Doletzke I haven't to pay any carfare at all. +For you and me, it will be ten cents there and ten back--that makes +fifty cents. Then I reckon thirty cents for refreshments to take with +us: a pineapple (a damaged one isn't more than five cents), a few +bananas, a piece of watermelon, a bottle of milk for the children, and a +few rolls--the whole thing shouldn't cost us more than eighty cents at +the outside." + +"Eighty cents!" and Sarah clapped her hands together in dismay. "Why, +you can live on that two days, and it takes nearly a whole day's +earning. You can buy an old ice-box for eighty cents, you can buy a pair +of trousers--eighty cents!" + +"Leave off talking nonsense!" said Shmuel, disconcerted. "Eighty cents +won't make us rich. We shall get on just the same whether we have them +or not. We must live like human beings one day in the year! Come, Sarah, +let us go! We shall see lots of other people, and we'll watch them, and +see how _they_ enjoy themselves. It will do you good to see the world, +to go where there's a bit of life! Listen, Sarah, what have you been to +worth seeing since we came to America? Have you seen Brooklyn Bridge, or +Central Park, or the Baron Hirsch baths?" + +"You know I haven't!" Sarah broke in. "I've no time to go about +sight-seeing. I only know the way from here to the market." + +"And what do you suppose?" cried Shmuel. "I should be as great a +greenhorn as you, if I hadn't been obliged to look everywhere for work. +Now I know that America is a great big place. Thanks to the slack times, +I know where there's an Eighth Street, and a One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street with tin works, and an Eighty-Fourth Street with a match factory. +I know every single lane round the World Building. I know where the +cable car line stops. But you, Sarah, know nothing at all, no more than +if you had just landed. Let us go, Sarah, I am sure you won't regret +it!" + +"Well, you know best!" said his wife, and this time she smiled. "Let us +go!" + +And thus it was that Shmuel and his wife decided to join the lodge +picnic on the following day. + +Next morning they all rose much earlier than usual on a Sunday, and +there was a great noise, for they took the children and scrubbed them +without mercy. Sarah prepared a bath for Doletzke, and Doletzke screamed +the house down. Shmuel started washing Yossele's feet, but as Yossele +habitually went barefoot, he failed to bring about any visible +improvement, and had to leave the little pair of feet to soak in a basin +of warm water, and Yossele cried, too. It was twelve o'clock before the +children were dressed and ready to start, and then Sarah turned her +attention to her husband, arranged his trousers, took the spots out of +his coat with kerosene, sewed a button onto his vest. After that she +dressed herself, in her old-fashioned satin wedding dress. At two +o'clock they set forth, and took their places in the car. + +"Haven't we forgotten anything?" asked Sarah of her husband. + +Shmuel counted his children and the traps. "No, nothing, Sarah!" he +said. + +Doletzke went to sleep, the other children sat quietly in their places. +Sarah, too, fell into a doze, for she was tired out with the +preparations for the excursion. + +All went smoothly till they got some way up town, when Sarah gave a +start. + +"I don't feel very well--my head is so dizzy," she said to Shmuel. + +"I don't feel very well, either," answered Shmuel. "I suppose the fresh +air has upset us." + +"I suppose it has," said his wife. "I'm afraid for the children." + +Scarcely had she spoken when Doletzke woke up, whimpering, and was sick. +Yossele, who was looking at her, began to cry likewise. The mother +scolded him, and this set the other children crying. The conductor cast +a wrathful glance at poor Shmuel, who was so frightened that he dropped +the hand-bag with the provisions, and then, conscious of the havoc he +had certainly brought about inside the bag by so doing, he lost his head +altogether, and sat there in a daze. Sarah was hushing the children, but +the look in her eyes told Shmuel plainly enough what to expect once they +had left the car. And no sooner had they all reached the ground in +safety than Sarah shot out: + +"So, nothing would content him but a picnic? Much good may it do him! +You're a workman, and workmen have no call to go gadding about!" + +Shmuel was already weary of the whole thing, and said nothing, but he +felt a tightening of the heart. + +He took up Yossele on one arm and Resele on the other, and carried the +bag with the presumably smashed-up contents besides. + +"Hush, my dears! Hush, my babies!" he said. "Wait a little and mother +will give you some bread and sugar. Hush, be quiet!" He went on, but +still the children cried. + +Sarah carried Doletzke, and rocked her as she walked, while Berele and +Hannahle trotted alongside. + +"He has shortened my days," said Sarah, "may his be shortened likewise." + +Soon afterwards they turned into the park. + +"Let us find a tree and sit down in the shade," said Shmuel. "Come, +Sarah!" + +"I haven't the strength to drag myself a step further," declared Sarah, +and she sank down like a stone just inside the gate. Shmuel was about to +speak, but a glance at Sarah's face told him she was worn out, and he +sat down beside his wife without a word. Sarah gave Doletzke the breast. +The other children began to roll about in the grass, laughed and played, +and Shmuel breathed easier. + +Girls in holiday attire walked about the park, and there were groups +under the trees. Here was a handsome girl surrounded by admiring boys, +and there a handsome young man encircled by a bevy of girls. + +Out of the leafy distance of the park came the melancholy song of a +workman; near by stood a man playing on a fiddle. Sarah looked about her +and listened, and by degrees her vexation vanished. It is true that her +heart was still sore, but it was not with the soreness of anger. She was +taking her life to pieces and thinking it over, and it seemed a very +hard and bitter one, and when she looked at her husband and thought of +his life, she was near crying, and she laid her hands upon his knee. + +Shmuel also sat lost in thought. He was thinking about the trees and the +roses and the grass, and listening to the fiddle. And he also was sad at +heart. + +"O Sarah!" he sighed, and he would have said more, but just at that +moment it began to spot with rain, and before they had time to move +there came a downpour. People started to scurry in all directions, but +Shmuel stood like a statue. + +"Shlimm-mazel, look after the children!" commanded Sarah. Shmuel caught +up two of them, Sarah another two or three, and they ran to a shelter. +Doletzke began to cry afresh. + +"Mame, hungry!" began Berele. + +"Hungry, hungry!" wailed Yossele. "I want to eat!" + +Shmuel hastily opened the hand-bag, and then for the first time he saw +what had really happened: the bottle had broken, and the milk was +flooding the bag; the rolls and bananas were soaked, and the pineapple +(a damaged one to begin with) looked too nasty for words. Sarah caught +sight of the bag, and was so angry, she was at a loss how to wreak +vengeance on her husband. She was ashamed to scream and scold in the +presence of other people, but she went up to him, and whispered +fervently into his ear, "The same to you, my good man!" + +The children continued to clamor for food. + +"I'll go to the refreshment counter and buy a glass of milk and a few +rolls," said Shmuel to his wife. + +"Have you actually some money left?" asked Sarah. "I thought it had all +been spent on the picnic." + +"There are just five cents over." + +"Well, then go and be quick about it. The poor things are starving." + +Shmuel went to the refreshment stall, and asked the price of a glass of +milk and a few rolls. + +"Twenty cents, mister," answered the waiter. + +Shmuel started as if he had burnt his finger, and returned to his wife +more crestfallen than ever. + +"Well, Shlimm-mazel, where's the milk?" inquired Sarah. + +"He asked twenty cents." + +"Twenty cents for a glass of milk and a roll? Are you Montefiore?" Sarah +could no longer contain herself. "They'll be the ruin of us! If you want +to go for another picnic, we shall have to sell the bedding." + +The children never stopped begging for something to eat. + +"But what are we to do?" asked the bewildered Shmuel. + +"Do?" screamed Sarah. "Go home, this very minute!" + +Shmuel promptly caught up a few children, and they left the park. Sarah +was quite quiet on the way home, merely remarking to her husband that +she would settle her account with him later. + +"I'll pay you out," she said, "for my satin dress, for the hand-bag, for +the pineapple, for the bananas, for the milk, for the whole blessed +picnic, for the whole of my miserable existence." + +"Scold away!" answered Shmuel. "It is you who were right. I don't know +what possessed me. A picnic, indeed! You may well ask what next? A poor +wretched workman like me has no business to think of anything beyond the +shop." + +Sarah, when they reached home, was as good as her word. Shmuel would +have liked some supper, as he always liked it, even in slack times, but +there was no supper given him. He went to bed a hungry man, and all +through the night he repeated in his sleep: + +"A picnic, oi, a picnic!" + + + + +MANASSEH + + +It was a stifling summer evening. I had just come home from work, taken +off my coat, unbuttoned my waistcoat, and sat down panting by the window +of my little room. + +There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for my reply, in came +a woman with yellow hair, and very untidy in her dress. + +I judged from her appearance that she had not come from a distance. She +had nothing on her head, her sleeves were tucked up, she held a ladle in +her hand, and she was chewing something or other. + +"I am Manasseh's wife," said she. + +"Manasseh Gricklin's?" I asked. + +"Yes," said my visitor, "Gricklin's, Gricklin's." + +I hastily slipped on a coat, and begged her to be seated. + +Manasseh was an old friend of mine, he was a capmaker, and we worked +together in one shop. + +And I knew that he lived somewhere in the same tenement as myself, but +it was the first time I had the honor of seeing his wife. + +"Look here," began the woman, "don't you work in the same shop as my +husband?" + +"Yes, yes," I said. + +"Well, and now tell me," and the yellow-haired woman gave a bound like a +hyena, "how is it I see you come home from work with all other +respectable people, and my husband not? And it isn't the first time, +either, that he's gone, goodness knows where, and come home two hours +after everyone else. Where's he loitering about?" + +"I don't know," I replied gravely. + +The woman brandished her ladle in such a way that I began to think she +meant murder. + +"You don't know?" she exclaimed with a sinister flash in her eyes. "What +do you mean by that? Don't you two leave the shop together? How can you +help seeing what becomes of him?" + +Then I remembered that when Manasseh and I left the shop, he walked with +me a few blocks, and then went off in another direction, and that one +day, when I asked him where he was going, he had replied, "To some +friends." + +"He must go to some friends," I said to the woman. + +"To some friends?" she repeated, and burst into strange laughter. "Who? +Whose? Ours? We're greeners, we are, we have no friends. What friends +should he have, poor, miserable wretch?" + +"I don't know," I said, "but that is what he told me." + +"All right!" said Manasseh's wife. "I'll teach him a lesson he won't +forget in a hurry." + +With these words she departed. + +When she had left the room, I pictured to myself poor consumptive +Manasseh being taught a "lesson" by his yellow-haired wife, and I pitied +him. + +Manasseh was a man of about thirty. His yellowish-white face was set in +a black beard; he was very thin, always ailing and coughing, had never +learnt to write, and he read only Yiddish--a quiet, respectable man, I +might almost say the only hand in the shop who never grudged a +fellow-worker his livelihood. He had been only a year in the country, +and the others made sport of him, but I always stood up for him, because +I liked him very much. + +Wherever does he go, now? I wondered to myself, and I resolved to find +out. + +Next morning I met Manasseh as usual, and at first I intended to tell +him of his wife's visit to me the day before; but the poor operative +looked so low-spirited, so thoroughly unhappy, that I felt sure his wife +had already given him the promised "lesson," and I hadn't the courage to +mention her to him just then. + +In the evening, as we were going home from the workshop, Manasseh said +to me: + +"Did my wife come to see you yesterday?" + +"Yes, Brother Manasseh," I answered. "She seemed something annoyed with +you." + +"She has a dreadful temper," observed the workman. "When she is really +angry, she's fit to kill a man. But it's her bitter heart, poor +thing--she's had so many troubles! We're so poor, and she's far away +from her family." + +Manasseh gave a deep sigh. + +"She asked you where I go other days after work?" he continued. + +"Yes." + +"Would you like to know?" + +"Why not, Mister Gricklin!" + +"Come along a few blocks further," said Manasseh, "and I'll show you." + +"Come along!" I agreed, and we walked on together. + +A few more blocks and Manasseh led me into a narrow street, not yet +entirely built in with houses. + +Presently he stopped, with a contented smile. I looked round in some +astonishment. We were standing alongside a piece of waste ground, with a +meagre fencing of stones and burnt wire, and utilized as a garden. + +"Just look," said the workman, pointing at the garden, "how delightful +it is! One so seldom sees anything of the kind in New York." + +Manasseh went nearer to the fence, and his eyes wandered thirstily over +the green, flowering plants, just then in full beauty. I also looked at +the garden. The things that grew there were unknown to me, and I was +ignorant of their names. Only one thing had a familiar look--a few tall, +graceful "moons" were scattered here and there over the place, and stood +like absent-minded dreamers, or beautiful sentinels. And the roses were +in bloom, and their fragrance came in wafts over the fencing. + +"You see the 'moons'?" asked Manasseh, in rapt tones, but more to +himself than to me. "Look how beautiful they are! I can't take my eyes +off them. I am capable of standing and looking at them for hours. They +make me feel happy, almost as if I were at home again. There were a lot +of them at home!" + +The operative sighed, lost himself a moment in thought, and then said: + +"When I smell the roses, I think of old days. We had quite a large +garden, and I was so fond of it! When the flowers began to come out, I +used to sit there for hours, and could never look at it enough. The +roses appeared to be dreaming with their great golden eyes wide open. +The cucumbers lay along the ground like pussy-cats, and the stalks and +leaves spread ever so far across the beds. The beans fought for room +like street urchins, and the pumpkins and the potatoes--you should have +seen them! And the flowers were all colors--pink and blue and yellow, +and I felt as if everything were alive, as if the whole garden were +alive--I fancied I heard them talking together, the roses, the potatoes, +the beans. I spent whole evenings in my garden. It was dear to me as my +own soul. Look, look, look, don't the roses seem as if they were alive?" + +But I looked at Manasseh, and thought the consumptive workman had grown +younger and healthier. His face was less livid, and his eyes shone with +happiness. + +"Do you know," said Manasseh to me, as we walked away from the garden, +"I had some cuttings of rose-trees at home, in a basket out on the +fire-escape, and they had begun to bud." + +There was a pause. + +"Well," I inquired, "and what happened?" + +"My wife laid out the mattress to air on the top of the basket, and they +were all crushed." + +Manasseh made an outward gesture with his hand, and I asked no more +questions. + +The poky, stuffy shop in which he worked came into my mind, and my heart +was sore for him. + + + + +YOHRZEIT FOR MOTHER + + +The Ginzburgs' first child died of inflammation of the lungs when it was +two years and three months old. + +The young couple were in the depths of grief and despair--they even +thought seriously of committing suicide. + +But people do not do everything they think of doing. Neither Ginzburg +nor his wife had the courage to throw themselves into the cold and +grizzly arms of death. They only despaired, until, some time after, a +newborn child bound them once more to life. + +It was a little girl, and they named her Dvoreh, after Ginzburg's dead +mother. + +The Ginzburgs were both free-thinkers in the full sense of the word, and +their naming the child after the dead had no superstitious significance +whatever. + +It came about quite simply. + +"Dobinyu," Ginzburg had asked his wife, "how shall we call our +daughter?" + +"I don't know," replied the young mother. + +"No more do I," said Ginzburg. + +"Let us call her Dvorehle," suggested Dobe, automatically, gazing at her +pretty baby, and very little concerned about its name. + +Had Ginzburg any objection to make? None at all, and the child's name +was Dvorehle henceforward. When the first child had lived to be a year +old, the parents had made a feast-day, and invited guests to celebrate +their first-born's first birthday with them. + +With the second child it was not so. + +The Ginzburgs loved their Dvorehle, loved her painfully, infinitely, but +when it came to the anniversary of her birth they made no rejoicings. + +I do not think I shall be going too far if I say they did not dare to do +so. + +Dvorehle was an uncommon child: a bright girlie, sweet-tempered, pretty, +and clever, the light of the house, shining into its every corner. She +could be a whole world of delight to her parents, this wee Dvorehle. But +it was not the delight, not the happiness they had known with the first +child, not the same. _That_ had been so free, so careless. Now it was +different: terrible pictures of death, of a child's death, would rise up +in the midst of their joy, and their gladness suddenly ended in a heavy +sigh. They would be at the height of enchantment, kissing and hugging +the child and laughing aloud, they would be singing to it and romping +with it, everything else would be forgotten. Then, without wishing to do +so, they would suddenly remember that not so long ago it was another +child, also a girl, that went off into just the same silvery little +bursts of laughter--and now, where is it?--dead! O how it goes through +the heart! The parents turn pale in the midst of their merrymaking, the +mother's eyes fill with tears, and the father's head droops. + +"Who knows?" sighs Dobe, looking at their little laughing Dvorehle. "Who +knows?" + +Ginzburg understands the meaning of her question and is silent, because +he is afraid to say anything in reply. + +It seems to me that parents who have buried their first-born can never +be really happy again. + +So Dvorehle's first birthday was allowed to pass as it were unnoticed. +When it came to her second, it was nearly the same thing, only Dobe +said, "Ginzburg, when our daughter is three years old, then we will have +great rejoicings!" + +They waited for the day with trembling hearts. Their child's third year +was full of terror for them, because their eldest-born had died in her +third year, and they felt as though it must be the most dangerous one +for their second child. + +A dreadful conviction began to haunt them both, only they were afraid to +confess it one to the other. This conviction, this fixed idea of theirs, +was that when Dvorehle reached the age of their eldest child when it +died, Death would once more call their household to mind. + +Dvorehle grew to be two years and eight months old. O it was a terrible +time! And--and the child fell ill, with inflammation of the lungs, just +like the other one. + +O pictures that arose and stood before the parents! O terror, O +calamity! They were free-thinkers, the Ginzburgs, and if any one had +told them that they were not free from what they called superstition, +that the belief in a Higher Power beyond our understanding still had a +root in their being, if you had spoken thus to Ginzburg or to his wife, +they would have laughed at you, both of them, out of the depths of a +full heart and with laughter more serious than many another's words. But +what happened now is wonderful to tell. + +Dobe, sitting by the sick child's cot, began to speak, gravely, and as +in a dream: + +"Who knows? Who knows? Perhaps? Perhaps?" She did not conclude. + +"Perhaps what?" asked Ginzburg, impatiently. + +"Why should it come like this?" Dobe went on. "The same time, the same +sickness?" + +"A simple blind coincidence of circumstances," replied her husband. + +"But so exactly--one like the other, as if somebody had made it happen +on purpose." + +Ginzburg understood his wife's meaning, and answered short and sharp: + +"Dobe, don't talk nonsense." + +Meanwhile Dvorehle's illness developed, and the day came on which the +doctor said that a crisis would occur within twenty-four hours. What +this meant to the Ginzburgs would be difficult to describe, but each of +them determined privately not to survive the loss of their second child. + +They sat beside it, not lifting their eyes from its face. They were pale +and dazed with grief and sleepless nights, their hearts half-dead within +them, they shed no tears, they were so much more dead than alive +themselves, and the child's flame of life flickered and dwindled, +flickered and dwindled. + +A tangle of memories was stirring in Ginzburg's head, all relating to +deaths and graves. He lived through the death of their first child with +all details--his father's death, his mother's--early in a summer +morning--that was--that was--he recalls it--as though it were to-day. + +"What is to-day?" he wonders. "What day of the month is it?" And then he +remembers, it is the first of May. + +"The same day," he murmurs, as if he were talking in his sleep. + +"What the same day?" asks Dobe. + +"Nothing," says Ginzburg. "I was thinking of something." + +He went on thinking, and fell into a doze where he sat. + +He saw his mother enter the room with a soft step, take a chair, and sit +down by the sick child. + +"Mother, save it!" he begs her, his heart is full to bursting, and he +begins to cry. + +"Isrolik," says his mother, "I have brought a remedy for the child that +bears my name." + +"Mame!!!" + +He is about to throw himself upon her neck and kiss her, but she motions +him lightly aside. + +"Why do you never light a candle for my Yohrzeit?" she inquires, and +looks at him reproachfully. + +"Mame, have pity on us, save the child!" + +"The child will live, only you must light me a candle." + +"Mame" (he sobs louder), "have pity!" + +"Light my candle--make haste, make haste--" + +"Ginzburg!" a shriek from his wife, and he awoke with a start. + +"Ginzburg, the child is dying! Fly for the doctor." + +Ginzburg cast a look at the child, a chill went through him, he ran to +the door. + +The doctor came in person. + +"Our child is dying! Help save it!" wailed the unhappy mother, and he, +Ginzburg, stood and shivered as with cold. + +The doctor scrutinized the child, and said: + +"The crisis is coming on." There was something dreadful in the quiet of +his tone. + +"What can be done?" and the Ginzburgs wrung their hands. + +"Hush! Nothing! Bring some hot water, bottles of hot +water!--Champagne!--Where is the medicine? Quick!" commanded the doctor. + +Everything was to hand and ready in an instant. + +The doctor began to busy himself with the child, the parents stood by +pale as death. + +"Well," asked Dobe, "what?" + +"We shall soon know," said the doctor. + +Ginzburg looked round, glided like a shadow into a corner of the room, +and lit the little lamp that stood there. + +"What is that for?" asked Dobe, in a fright. + +"Nothing, Yohrzeit--my mother's," he answered in a strange voice, and +his hands never ceased trembling. + +"Your child will live," said the doctor, and father and mother fell upon +the child's bed with their faces, and wept. + +The flame in the lamp burnt brighter and brighter. + + + + +SLACK TIMES THEY SLEEP + + +Despite the fact of the winter nights being long and dark as the Jewish +exile, the Breklins go to bed at dusk. + +But you may as well know that when it is dusk outside in the street, the +Breklins are already "way on" in the night, because they live in a +basement, separated from the rest of the world by an air-shaft, and when +the sun gathers his beams round him before setting, the first to be +summoned are those down the Breklins' shaft, because of the time +required for them to struggle out again. + +The same thing in the morning, only reversed. People don't usually get +up, if they can help it, before it is really light, and so it comes to +pass that when other people have left their beds, and are going about +their business, the Breklins are still asleep and making the long, long +night longer yet. + +If you ask me, "How is it they don't wear their sides out with lying in +bed?" I shall reply: They _do_ rise with aching sides, and if you say, +"How can people be so lazy?" I can tell you, They don't do it out of +laziness, and they lie awake a great part of the time. + +What's the good of lying in bed if one isn't asleep? + +There you have it in a nutshell--it's a question of the economic +conditions. The Breklins are very poor, their life is a never-ending +struggle with poverty, and they have come to the conclusion that the +cheapest way of waging it, and especially in winter, is to lie in bed +under a great heap of old clothes and rags of every description. + +Breklin is a house-painter, and from Christmas to Purim (I beg to +distinguish!) work is dreadfully slack. When you're not earning a +crooked penny, what are you to do? + +In the first place, you must live on "cash," that is, on the few dollars +scraped together and put by during the "season," and in the second +place, you must cut down your domestic expenses, otherwise the money +won't hold out, and then you might as well keep your teeth in a drawer. + +But you may neither eat nor drink, nor live at all to mention--if it's +winter, the money goes all the same: it's bitterly cold, and you can't +do without the stove, and the nights are long, and you want a lamp. + +And the Breklins saw that their money would _not_ hold out till +Purim--that their Fast of Esther would be too long. Coal was beyond +them, and kerosene as dear as wine, and yet how could they possibly +spend less? How could they do without a fire when it was so cold? +Without a lamp when it was so dark? And the Breklins had an "idea"! + +Why sit up at night and watch the stove and the lamp burning away their +money, when they might get into bed, bury themselves in rags, and defy +both poverty and cold? There is nothing in particular to do, anyhow. +What should there be, a long winter evening through? Nothing! They only +sat and poured out the bitterness in their heart one upon the other, +quarrelled, and scolded. They could do that in bed just as well, and +save firing and light into the bargain. + +So, at the first approach of darkness, the bed was made ready for Mr. +Breklin, and his wife put to sleep their only, three-year-old child. +Avremele did not understand why he was put to bed so early, but he asked +no questions. The room began to feel cold, and the poor little thing was +glad to nestle deep into the bedcoverings. + +The lamp and the fire were extinguished, the stove would soon go out of +itself, and the Breklin family slept. + +They slept, and fought against poverty by lying in bed. + +It was waging cheap warfare. + + * * * * * + +Having had his first sleep out, Breklin turns to his wife: + +"What do you suppose the time to be now, Yudith?" + +Yudith listens attentively. + +"It must be past eight o'clock," she says. + +"What makes you think so?" asks Breklin. + +"Don't you hear the clatter of knives and forks? Well-to-do folk are +having supper." + +"We also used to have supper about this time, in the Tsisin," said +Breklin, and he gave a deep sigh of longing. + +"We shall soon forget the good times altogether," says Yudith, and +husband and wife set sail once more for the land of dreams. + +A few hours later Breklin wakes with a groan. + +"What is the matter?" inquires Yudith. + +"My sides ache with lying." + +"Mine, too," says Yudith, and they both begin yawning. + +"What o'clock would it be now?" wonders Breklin, and Yudith listens +again. + +"About ten o'clock," she tells him. + +"No later? I don't believe it. It must be a great deal later than that." + +"Well, listen for yourself," persists Yudith, "and you'll hear the +housekeeper upstairs scolding somebody. She's putting out the gas in the +hall." + +"Oi, weh is mir! How the night drags!" sighs Breklin, and turns over +onto his other side. + +Yudith goes on talking, but as much to herself as to him: + +"Upstairs they are still all alive, and we are asleep in bed." + +"Weh is mir, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin over and over, and once more +there is silence. + +The night wears on. + +"Are you asleep?" asks Breklin, suddenly. + +"I wish I were! Who could sleep through such a long night? I'm lying +awake and racking my brains." + +"What over?" asks Breklin, interested. + +"I'm trying to think," explains Yudith, "what we can have for dinner +to-morrow that will cost nothing, and yet be satisfying." + +"Oi, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin again, and is at a loss what to advise. + +"I wonder" (this time it is Yudith) "what o'clock it is now!" + +"It will soon be morning," is Breklin's opinion. + +"Morning? Nonsense!" Yudith knows better. + +"It must be morning soon!" He holds to it. + +"You are very anxious for the morning," says Yudith, good-naturedly, +"and so you think it will soon be here, and I tell you, it's not +midnight yet." + +"What are you talking about? You don't know what you're saying! I shall +go out of my mind." + +"You know," says Yudith, "that Avremele always wakes at midnight and +cries, and he's still fast asleep." + +"No, Mame," comes from under Avremele's heap of rags. + +"Come to me, my beauty! So he was awake after all!" and Yudith reaches +out her arms for the child. + +"Perhaps he's cold," says Breklin. + +"Are you cold, sonny?" asks Yudith. + +"Cold, Mame!" replies Avremele. + +Yudith wraps the coverlets closer and closer round him, and presses him +to her side. + +And the night wears on. + +"O my sides!" groans Breklin. + +"Mine, too!" moans Yudith, and they start another conversation. + +One time they discuss their neighbors; another time the Breklins try to +calculate how long it is since they married, how much they spend a week +on an average, and what was the cost of Yudith's confinement. + +It is seldom they calculate anything right, but talking helps to while +away time, till the basement begins to lighten, whereupon the Breklins +jump out of bed, as though it were some perilous hiding-place, and set +to work in a great hurry to kindle the stove. + + + + +ABRAHAM RAISIN + + +Born, 1876, in Kaidanov, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White Russia; +traditional Jewish education; self-taught in Russian language; teacher +at fifteen, first in Kaidanov, then in Minsk; first poem published in +Perez's Jüdische Bibliothek, in 1891; served in the army, in Kovno, for +four years; went to Warsaw in 1900, and to New York in 1911; Yiddish +lyric poet and novelist; occasionally writes Hebrew; contributor to +Spektor's Hausfreund, New York Abendpost, and New York Arbeiterzeitung; +co-editor of Das zwanzigste Jahrhundert; in 1903, published and edited, +in Cracow, Das jüdische Wort, first to urge the claim of Yiddish as the +national Jewish language; publisher and editor, since 1911, of Dos neie +Land, in New York; collected works (poems and tales), 4 vols., Warsaw, +1908-1912. + + + + +SHUT IN + + +Lebele is a little boy ten years old, with pale cheeks, liquid, dreamy +eyes, and black hair that falls in twisted ringlets, but, of course, the +ringlets are only seen when his hat falls off, for Lebele is a pious +little boy, who never uncovers his head. + +There are things that Lebele loves and never has, or else he has them +only in part, and that is why his eyes are always dreamy and troubled, +and always full of longing. + +He loves the summer, and sits the whole day in Cheder. He loves the sun, +and the Rebbe hangs his caftan across the window, and the Cheder is +darkened, so that it oppresses the soul. Lebele loves the moon, the +night, but at home they close the shutters, and Lebele, on his little +bed, feels as if he were buried alive. And Lebele cannot understand +people's behaving so oddly. + +It seems to him that when the sun shines in at the window, it is a +delight, it is so pleasant and cheerful, and the Rebbe goes and curtains +it--no more sun! If Lebele dared, he would ask: + +"What ails you, Rebbe, at the sun? What harm can it do you?" + +But Lebele will never put that question: the Rebbe is such a great and +learned man, he must know best. Ai, how dare he, Lebele, disapprove? He +is only a little boy. When he is grown up, he will doubtless curtain the +window himself. But as things are now, Lebele is not happy, and feels +sadly perplexed at the behavior of his elders. + +Late in the evening, he comes home from Cheder. The sun has already set, +the street is cheerful and merry, the cockchafers whizz and, flying, hit +him on the nose, the ear, the forehead. + +He would like to play about a bit in the street, let them have supper +without him, but he is afraid of his father. His father is a kind man +when he talks to strangers, he is so gentle, so considerate, so +confidential. But to him, to Lebele, he is very unkind, always shouting +at him, and if Lebele comes from Cheder a few minutes late, he will be +angry. + +"Where have you been, my fine fellow? Have you business anywhere?" + +Now go and tell him that it is not at all so bad out in the street, that +it's a pleasure to hear how the cockchafers whirr, that even the hits +they give you on the wing are friendly, and mean, "Hallo, old fellow!" +Of course it's a wild absurdity! It amuses him, because he is only a +little boy, while his father is a great man, who trades in wood and +corn, and who always knows the current prices--when a thing is dearer +and when it is cheaper. His father can speak the Gentile language, and +drive bargains, his father understands the Prussian weights. Is that a +man to be thought lightly of? Go and tell him, if you dare, that it's +delightful now out in the street. + +And Lebele hurries straight home. When he has reached it, his father +asks him how many chapters he has mastered, and if he answers five, his +father hums a tune without looking at him; but if he says only three, +his father is angry, and asks: + +"How's that? Why so little, ha?" + +And Lebele is silent, and feels guilty before his father. + +After that his father makes him translate a Hebrew word. + +"Translate _Kimlùnah_!" + +"_Kimlùnah_ means 'like a passing the night,'" answers Lebele, +terrified. + +His father is silent--a sign that he is satisfied--and they sit down to +supper. Lebele's father keeps an eye on him the whole time, and +instructs him how to eat. + +"Is that how you hold your spoon?" inquires the father, and Lebele holds +the spoon lower, and the food sticks in his throat. + +After supper Lebele has to say grace aloud and in correct Hebrew, +according to custom. If he mumbles a word, his father calls out: + +"What did I hear? what? once more, 'Wherewith Thou dost feed and sustain +us.' Well, come, say it! Don't be in a hurry, it won't burn you!" + +And Lebele says it over again, although he _is_ in a great hurry, +although he longs to run out into the street, and the words _do_ seem to +burn him. + +When it is dark, he repeats the Evening Prayer by lamplight; his father +is always catching him making a mistake, and Lebele has to keep all his +wits about him. The moon, round and shining, is already floating through +the sky, and Lebele repeats the prayers, and looks at her, and longs +after the street, and he gets confused in his praying. + +Prayers over, he escapes out of the house, puzzling over some question +in the Talmud against the morrow's lesson. He delays there a while +gazing at the moon, as she pours her pale beams onto the Gass. But he +soon hears his father's voice: + +"Come indoors, to bed!" + +It is warm outside, there is not a breath of air stirring, and yet it +seems to Lebele as though a wind came along with his father's words, and +he grows cold, and he goes in like one chilled to the bone, takes his +stand by the window, and stares at the moon. + +"It is time to close the shutters--there's nothing to sit up for!" +Lebele hears his father say, and his heart sinks. His father goes out, +and Lebele sees the shutters swing to, resist, as though they were being +closed against their will, and presently there is a loud bang. No more +moon!--his father has hidden it! + +A while after, the lamp has been put out, the room is dark, and all are +asleep but Lebele, whose bed is by the window. He cannot sleep, he wants +to be in the street, whence sounds come in through the chinks. He tries +to sit up in bed, to peer out, also through the chinks, and even to open +a bit of the shutter, without making any noise, and to look, look, but +without success, for just then his father wakes and calls out: + +"What are you after there, eh? Do you want me to come with the strap?" + +And Lebele nestles quietly down again into his pillow, pulls the +coverlet over his head, and feels as though he were buried alive. + + + + +THE CHARITABLE LOAN + + +The largest fair in Klemenke is "Ulas." The little town waits for Ulas +with a beating heart and extravagant hopes. "Ulas," say the Klemenke +shopkeepers and traders, "is a Heavenly blessing; were it not for Ulas, +Klemenke would long ago have been 'äus Klemenke,' America would have +taken its last few remaining Jews to herself." + +But for Ulas one must have the wherewithal--the shopkeepers need wares, +and the traders, money. + +Without the wherewithal, even Ulas is no good! And Chayyim, the dealer +in produce, goes about gloomily. There are only three days left before +Ulas, and he hasn't a penny wherewith to buy corn to trade with. And the +other dealers in produce circulate in the market-place with caps awry, +with thickly-rolled cigarettes in their mouths and walking-sticks in +their hands, and they are talking hard about the fair. + +"In three days it will be lively!" calls out one. + +"Pshshsh," cries another in ecstasy, "in three days' time the place will +be packed!" + +And Chayyim turns pale. He would like to call down a calamity on the +fair, he wishes it might rain, snow, or storm on that day, so that not +even a mad dog should come to the market-place; only Chayyim knows that +Ulas is no weakling, Ulas is not afraid of the strongest wind--Ulas is +Ulas! + +And Chayyim's eyes are ready to start out of his head. A charitable +loan--where is one to get a charitable loan? If only five and twenty +rubles! + +He asks it of everyone, but they only answer with a merry laugh: + +"Are you mad? Money--just before a fair?" + +And it seems to Chayyim that he really will go mad. + +"Suppose you went across to Loibe-Bäres?" suggests his wife, who takes +her full share in his distress. + +"I had thought of that myself," answers Chayyim, meditatively. + +"But what?" asks the wife. + +Chayyim is about to reply, "But I can't go there, I haven't the +courage," only that it doesn't suit him to be so frank with his wife, +and he answers: + +"Devil take him! He won't lend anything!" + +"Try! It won't hurt," she persists. + +And Chayyim reflects that he has no other resource, that Loibe-Bäres is +a rich man, and living in the same street, a neighbor in fact, and that +_he_ requires no money for the fair, being a dealer in lumber and +timber. + +"Give me out my Sabbath overcoat!" says Chayyim to his wife, in a +resolute tone. + +"Didn't I say so?" the wife answers. "It's the best thing you can do, to +go to him." + +Chayyim placed himself before a half-broken looking-glass which was +nailed to the wall, smoothed his beard with both hands, tightened his +earlocks, and then took off his hat, and gave it a polish with his +sleeve. + +"Just look and see if I haven't got any white on my coat off the wall!" + +"If you haven't?" the wife answered, and began slapping him with both +hands over the shoulders. + +"I thought we once had a little clothes-brush. Where is it? ha?" + +"Perhaps you dreamt it," replied his wife, still slapping him on the +shoulders, and she went on, "Well, I should say you had got some white +on your coat!" + +"Come, that'll do!" said Chayyim, almost angrily. "I'll go now." + +He drew on his Sabbath overcoat with a sigh, and muttering, "Very +likely, isn't it, he'll lend me money!" he went out. + +On the way to Loibe-Bäres, Chayyim's heart began to fail him. Since the +day that Loibe-Bäres came to live at the end of the street, Chayyim had +been in the house only twice, and the path Chayyim was treading now was +as bad as an examination: the "approach" to him, the light rooms, the +great mirrors, the soft chairs, Loibe-Bäres himself with his long, thick +beard and his black eyes with their "gevirish" glance, the lady, the +merry, happy children, even the maid, who had remained in his memory +since those two visits--all these things together terrified him, and he +asked himself, "Where are you going to? Are you mad? Home with you at +once!" and every now and then he would stop short on the way. Only the +thought that Ulas was near, and that he had no money to buy corn, drove +him to continue. + +"He won't lend anything--it's no use hoping." Chayyim was preparing +himself as he walked for the shock of disappointment; but he felt that +if he gave way to that extent, he would never be able to open his mouth +to make his request known, and he tried to cheer himself: + +"If I catch him in a good humor, he will lend! Why should he be afraid +of lending me a few rubles over the fair? I shall tell him that as soon +as ever I have sold the corn, he shall have the loan back. I will swear +it by wife and children, he will believe me--and I will pay it back." + +But this does not make Chayyim any the bolder, and he tries another sort +of comfort, another remedy against nervousness. + +"He isn't a bad man--and, after all, our acquaintance won't date from +to-day--we've been living in the same street twenty years--Parabotzker +Street--" + +And Chayyim recollects that a fortnight ago, as Loibe-Bäres was passing +his house on his way to the market-place, and he, Chayyim, was standing +in the yard, he gave him the greeting due to a gentleman ("and I could +swear I gave him my hand," Chayyim reminded himself). Loibe-Bäres had +made a friendly reply, he had even stopped and asked, like an old +acquaintance, "Well, Chayyim, and how are you getting on?" And Chayyim +strains his memory and remembers further that he answered on this wise: + +"I thank you for asking! Heaven forgive me, one does a little bit of +business!" + +And Chayyim is satisfied with his reply, "I answered him quite at my +ease." + +Chayyim resolves to speak to him this time even more leisurely and +independently, not to cringe before him. + +Chayyim could already see Loibe-Bäres' house in the distance. He coughed +till his throat was clear, stroked his beard down, and looked at his +coat. + +"Still a very good coat!" he said aloud, as though trying to persuade +himself that the coat was still good, so that he might feel more courage +and more proper pride. + +But when he got to Loibe-Bäres' big house, when the eight large windows +looking onto the street flashed into his eyes, the windows being +brightly illuminated from within, his heart gave a flutter. + +"Oi, Lord of the World, help!" came of its own accord to his lips. Then +he felt ashamed, and caught himself up, "Ett, nonsense!" + +As he pushed the door open, the "prayer" escaped him once more, "Help, +mighty God! or it will be the death of me!" + + * * * * * + +Loibe-Bäres was seated at a large table covered with a clean white +table-cloth, and drinking while he talked cheerfully with his household. + +"There's a Jew come, Tate!" called out a boy of twelve, on seeing +Chayyim standing by the door. + +"So there is!" called out a second little boy, still more merrily, +fixing Chayyim with his large, black, mischievous eyes. + +All the rest of those at table began looking at Chayyim, and he thought +every moment that he must fall of a heap onto the floor. + +"It will look very bad if I fall," he said to himself, made a step +forward, and, without saying good evening, stammered out: + +"I just happened to be passing, you understand, and I saw you +sitting--so I knew you were at home--well, I thought one ought to +call--neighbors--" + +"Well, welcome, welcome!" said Loibe-Bäres, smiling. "You've come at the +right moment. Sit down." + +A stone rolled off Chayyim's heart at this reply, and, with a glance at +the two little boys, he quietly took a seat. + +"Leah, give Reb Chayyim a glass of tea," commanded Loibe-Bäres. + +"Quite a kind man!" thought Chayyim. "May the Almighty come to his aid!" + +He gave his host a grateful look, and would gladly have fallen onto the +Gevir's thick neck, and kissed him. + +"Well, and what are you about?" inquired his host. + +"Thanks be to God, one lives!" + +The maid handed him a glass of tea. He said, "Thank you," and then was +sorry: it is not the proper thing to thank a servant. He grew red and +bit his lips. + +"Have some jelly with it!" Loibe-Bäres suggested. + +"An excellent man, an excellent man!" thought Chayyim, astonished. "He +is sure to lend." + +"You deal in something?" asked Loibe-Bäres. + +"Why, yes," answered Chayyim. "One's little bit of business, thank +Heaven, is no worse than other people's!" + +"What price are oats fetching now?" it occurred to the Gevir to ask. + +Oats had fallen of late, but it seemed better to Chayyim to say that +they had risen. + +"They have risen very much!" he declared in a mercantile tone of voice. + +"Well, and have you some oats ready?" inquired the Gevir further. + +"I've got a nice lot of oats, and they didn't cost me much, either. I +got them quite cheap," replied Chayyim, with more warmth, forgetting, +while he spoke, that he hadn't had an ear of oats in his granary for +weeks. + +"And you are thinking of doing a little speculating?" asked Loibe-Bäres. +"Are you not in need of any money?" + +"Thanks be to God," replied Chayyim, proudly, "I have never yet been in +need of money." + +"Why did I say that?" he thought then, in terror at his own words. "How +am I going to ask for a loan now?" and Chayyim wanted to back the cart a +little, only Loibe-Bäres prevented him by saying: + +"So I understand you make a good thing of it, you are quite a wealthy +man." + +"My wealth be to my enemies!" Chayyim wanted to draw back, but after a +glance at Loibe-Bäres' shining face, at the blue jar with the jelly, he +answered proudly: + +"Thank Heaven, I have nothing to complain of!" + +"There goes your charitable loan!" The thought came like a kick in the +back of his head. "Why are you boasting like that? Tell him you want +twenty-five rubles for Ulas--that he must save you, that you are in +despair, that--" + +But Chayyim fell deeper and deeper into a contented and happy way of +talking, praised his business more and more, and conversed with the +Gevir as with an equal. + +But he soon began to feel he was one too many, that he should not have +sat there so long, or have talked in that way. It would have been better +to have talked about the fair, about a loan. Now it is too late: + +"I have no need of money!" and Chayyim gave a despairing look at +Loibe-Bäres' cheerful face, at the two little boys who sat opposite and +watched him with sly, mischievous eyes, and who whispered knowingly to +each other, and then smiled more knowingly still! + +A cold perspiration covered him. He rose from his chair. + +"You are going already?" observed Loibe-Bäres, politely. + +"Now perhaps I could ask him!" It flashed across Chayyim's mind that he +might yet save himself, but, stealing a glance at the two boys with the +roguish eyes that watched him so slyly, he replied with dignity: + +"I must! Business! There is no time!" and it seems to him, as he goes +toward the door, that the two little boys with the mischievous eyes are +putting out their tongues after him, and that Loibe-Bäres himself smiles +and says, "Stick your tongues out further, further still!" + +Chayyim's shoulders seem to burn, and he makes haste to get out of the +house. + + + + +THE TWO BROTHERS + + +It is three months since Yainkele and Berele--two brothers, the first +fourteen years old, the second sixteen--have been at the college that +stands in the town of X--, five German miles from their birthplace +Dalissovke, after which they are called the "Dalissovkers." + +Yainkele is a slight, pale boy, with black eyes that peep slyly from +beneath the two black eyebrows. Berele is taller and stouter than +Yainkele, his eyes are lighter, and his glance is more defiant, as +though he would say, "Let me alone, I shall laugh at you all yet!" + +The two brothers lodged with a poor relation, a widow, a dealer in +second-hand goods, who never came home till late at night. The two +brothers had no bed, but a chest, which was broad enough, served +instead, and the brothers slept sweetly on it, covered with their own +torn clothes; and in their dreams they saw their native place, the +little street, their home, their father with his long beard and dim eyes +and bent back, and their mother with her long, pale, melancholy face, +and they heard the little brothers and sisters quarrelling, as they +fought over a bit of herring, and they dreamt other dreams of home, and +early in the morning they were homesick, and then they used to run to +the Dalissovke Inn, and ask the carrier if there were a letter for them +from home. + +The Dalissovke carriers were good Jews with soft hearts, and they were +sorry for the two poor boys, who were so anxious for news from home, +whose eyes burned, and whose hearts beat so fast, so loud, but the +carriers were very busy; they came charged with a thousand messages from +the Dalissovke shopkeepers and traders, and they carried more letters +than the post, but with infinitely less method. Letters were lost, and +parcels were heard of no more, and the distracted carriers scratched the +nape of their neck, and replied to every question: + +"Directly, directly, I shall find it directly--no, I don't seem to have +anything for you--" + +That is how they answered the grown people who came to them; but our two +little brothers stood and looked at Lezer the carrier--a man in a wadded +caftan, summer and winter--with thirsty eyes and aching hearts; stood +and waited, hoping he would notice them and say something, if only one +word. But Lezer was always busy: now he had gone into the yard to feed +the horse, now he had run into the inn, and entered into a conversation +with the clerk of a great store, who had brought a list of goods wanted +from a shop in Dalissovke. + +And the brothers used to stand and stand, till the elder one, Berele, +lost patience. Biting his lips, and all but crying with vexation, he +would just articulate: "Reb Lezer, is there a letter from father?" + +But Reb Lezer would either suddenly cease to exist, run out into the +street with somebody or other, or be absorbed in a conversation, and +Berele hardly expected the answer which Reb Lezer would give over his +shoulder: + +"There isn't one--there isn't one." + +"There isn't one!" Berele would say with a deep sigh, and sadly call to +Yainkele to come away. Mournfully, and with a broken spirit, they went +to where the day's meal awaited them. + +"I am sure he loses the letters!" Yainkele would say a few minutes +later, as they walked along. + +"He is a bad man!" Berele would mutter with vexation. + +But one day Lezer handed them a letter and a small parcel. + +The letter ran thus: + + "Dear Children, + + Be good, boys, and learn with diligence. We send you herewith half + a cheese and a quarter of a pound of sugar, and a little + berry-juice in a bottle. + + Eat it in health, and do not quarrel over it. + + From me, your father, + + CHAYYIM HECHT." + +That day Lezer the carrier was the best man in the world in their eyes, +they would not have been ashamed to eat him up with horse and cart for +very love. They wrote an answer at once--for letter-paper they used to +tear out, with fluttering hearts, the first, imprinted pages in the +Gemoreh--and gave it that evening to Lezer the carrier. Lezer took it +coldly, pushed it into the breast of his coat, and muttered something +like "All right!" + +"What did he say, Berele?" asked Yainkele, anxiously. + +"I think he said 'all right,'" Berele answered doubtfully. + +"I think he said so, too," Yainkele persuaded himself. Then he gave a +sigh, and added fearfully: + +"He may lose the letter!" + +"Bite your tongue out!" answered Berele, angrily, and they went sadly +away to supper. + +And three times a week, early in the morning, when Lezer the carrier +came driving, the two brothers flew, not ran, to the Dalissovke Inn, to +ask for an answer to their letter; and Lezer the carrier grew more +preoccupied and cross, and answered either with mumbled words, which the +brothers could not understand, and dared not ask him to repeat, or else +not at all, so that they went away with heavy hearts. But one day they +heard Lezer the carrier speak distinctly, so that they understood quite +well: + +"What are you doing here, you two? What do you come plaguing me for? +Letter? Fiddlesticks! How much do you pay me? Am I a postman? Eh? Be off +with you, and don't worry." + +The brothers obeyed, but only in part: their hearts were like lead, +their thin little legs shook, and tears fell from their eyes onto the +ground. And they went no more to Lezer the carrier to ask for a letter. + +"I wish he were dead and buried!" they exclaimed, but they did not mean +it, and they longed all the time just to go and look at Lezer the +carrier, his horse and cart. After all, they came from Dalissovke, and +the two brothers loved them. + + * * * * * + +One day, two or three weeks after the carrier sent them about their +business in the way described, the two brothers were sitting in the +house of the poor relation and talking about home. It was summer-time, +and a Friday afternoon. + +"I wonder what father is doing now," said Yainkele, staring at the small +panes in the small window. + +"He must be cutting his nails," answered Berele, with a melancholy +smile. + +"He must be chopping up lambs' feet," imagined Yainkele, "and Mother is +combing Chainele, and Chainele is crying." + +"Now we've talked nonsense enough!" decided Berele. "How can we know +what is going on there?" + +"Perhaps somebody's dead!" added Yainkele, in sudden terror. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said Berele. "When people die, they let one +know--" + +"Perhaps they wrote, and the carrier won't give us the letter--" + +"Ai, that's chatter enough!" Berele was quite cross. "Shut up, donkey! +You make me laugh," he went on, to reassure Yainkele, "they are all +alive and well." + +Yainkele became cheerful again, and all at once he gave a bound into the +air, and exclaimed with eager eyes: + +"Berele, do what I say! Let's write by the post!" + +"Right you are!" agreed Berele. "Only I've no money." + +"I have four kopeks; they are over from the ten I got last night. You +know, at my 'Thursday' they give me ten kopeks for supper, and I have +four over. + +"And I have one kopek," said Berele, "just enough for a post-card." + +"But which of us will write it?" asked Yainkele. + +"I," answered Berele, "I am the eldest, I'm a first-born son." + +"But I gave four kopeks!" + +"A first-born is worth more than four kopeks." + +"No! I'll write half, and you'll write half, ha?" + +"Very well. Come and buy a card." + +And the two brothers ran to buy a card at the postoffice. + +"There will be no room for anything!" complained Yainkele, on the way +home, as he contemplated the small post-card. "We will make little tiny +letters, teeny weeny ones!" advised Berele. + +"Father won't be able to read them!" + +"Never mind! He will put on his spectacles. Come along--quicker!" urged +Yainkele. His heart was already full of words, like a sea, and he wanted +to pour it out onto the bit of paper, the scrap on which he had spent +his entire fortune. + +They reached their lodging, and settled down to write. + +Berele began, and Yainkele stood and looked on. + +"Begin higher up! There is room there for a whole line. Why did you put +'to my beloved Father' so low down?" shrieked Yainkele. + +"Where am I to put it, then? In the sky, eh?" asked Berele, and pushed +Yainkele aside. + +"Go away, I will leave you half. Don't confuse me!--You be quiet!" and +Yainkele moved away, and stared with terrified eyes at Berele, as he sat +there, bent double, and wrote and wrote, knitted his brows, and dipped +the pen, and reflected, and wrote again. + +"That's enough!" screamed Yainkele, after a few minutes. + +"It's not the half yet," answered Berele, writing on. + +"But I ought to have more than half!" said Yainkele, crossly. The +longing to write, to pour out his heart onto the post-card, was +overwhelming him. + +But Berele did not even hear: he had launched out into such rhetorical +Hebrew expressions as "First of all, I let you know that I am alive and +well," which he had learnt in "The Perfect Letter-Writer," and his +little bits of news remained unwritten. He had yet to abuse Lezer the +carrier, to tell how many pages of the Gemoreh he had learnt, to let +them know they were to send another parcel, because they had no "Monday" +and no "Wednesday," and the "Tuesday" was no better than nothing. + +And Berele writes and writes, and Yainkele can no longer contain +himself--he sees that Berele is taking up more than half the card. + +"Enough!" He ran forward with a cry, and seized the penholder. + +"Three words more!" begged Berele. + +"But remember, not more than three!" and Yainkele's eyes flashed. Berele +set to work to write the three words; but that which he wished to +express required yet ten to fifteen words, and Berele, excited by the +fact of writing, pecked away at the paper, and took up yet another bit +of the other half. + +"You stop!" shrieked Yainkele, and broke into hysterical sobs, as he saw +what a small space remained for him. + +"Hush! Just 'from me, thy son,'" begged Berele, "nothing else!" + +But Yainkele, remembering that he had given a whole vierer toward the +post-card, and that they would read so much of Berele at home, and so +little of him, flew into a passion, and came and tried to tear away the +card from under Berele's hands. "Let me put 'from me, thy son'!" +implored Berele. + +"It will do _without_ 'from me, thy son'!" screamed Yainkele, although +he _felt_ that one ought to put it. His anger rose, and he began tugging +at the card. Berele held tight, but Yainkele gave such a pull that the +card tore in two. + +"What have you done, villain!" cried Berele, glaring at Yainkele. + +"I _meant_ to do it!" wailed Yainkele. + +"Oh, but why did you?" cried Berele, gazing in despair at the two torn +halves of the post-card. + +But Yainkele could not answer. The tears choked him, and he threw +himself against the wall, tearing his hair. Then Berele gave way, too, +and the little room resounded with lamentations. + + + + +LOST HIS VOICE + + +It was in the large synagogue in Klemenke. The week-day service had come +to an end. The town cantor who sings all the prayers, even when he prays +alone, and who is longer over them than other people, had already folded +his prayer-scarf, and was humming the day's Psalm to himself, to a tune. +He sang the last words "cantorishly" high: + +"And He will be our guide until death." In the last word "death" he +tried, as usual, to rise artistically to the higher octave, then to fall +very low, and to rise again almost at once into the height; but this +time he failed, the note stuck in his throat and came out false. + +He got a fright, and in his fright he looked round to make sure no one +was standing beside him. Seeing only old Henoch, his alarm grew less, he +knew that old Henoch was deaf. + +As he went out with his prayer-scarf and phylacteries under his arm, the +unsuccessful "death" rang in his ears and troubled him. + +"Plague take it," he muttered, "it never once happened to me before." + +Soon, however, he remembered that two weeks ago, on the Sabbath before +the New Moon, as he stood praying with the choristers before the altar, +nearly the same thing had happened to him when he sang "He is our God" +as a solo in the Kedushah. + +Happily no one remarked it--anyway the "bass" had said nothing to him. +And the memory of the unsuccessful "Hear, O Israel" of two weeks ago and +of to-day's "unto death" were mingled together, and lay heavily on his +heart. + +He would have liked to try the note once more as he walked, but the +street was just then full of people, and he tried to refrain till he +should reach home. Contrary to his usual custom, he began taking rapid +steps, and it looked as if he were running away from someone. On +reaching home, he put away his prayer-scarf without saying so much as +good morning, recovered his breath after the quick walk, and began to +sing, "He shall be our guide until death." + +"That's right, you have so little time to sing in! The day is too short +for you!" exclaimed the cantoress, angrily. "It grates on the ears +enough already!" + +"How, it grates?" and the cantor's eyes opened wide with fright, "I sing +a note, and you say 'it grates'? How can it grate?" + +He looked at her imploringly, his eyes said: "Have pity on me! Don't +say, 'it grates'! because if it _does_ grate, I am miserable, I am done +for!" + +But the cantoress was much too busy and preoccupied with the dinner to +sympathize and to understand how things stood with her husband, and went +on: + +"Of course it grates! Why shouldn't it? It deafens me. When you sing in +the choir, I have to bear it, but when you begin by yourself--what?" + +The cantor had grown as white as chalk, and only just managed to say: + +"Grune, are you mad? What are you talking about?" + +"What ails the man to-day!" exclaimed Grune, impatiently. "You've made a +fool of yourself long enough! Go and wash your hands and come to +dinner!" + +The cantor felt no appetite, but he reflected that one must eat, if only +as a remedy; not to eat would make matters worse, and he washed his +hands. + +He chanted the grace loud and cantor-like, glancing occasionally at his +wife, to see if she noticed anything wrong; but this time she said +nothing at all, and he was reassured. "It was my fancy--just my fancy!" +he said to himself. "All nonsense! One doesn't lose one's voice so soon +as all that!" + +Then he remembered that he was already forty years old, and it had +happened to the cantor Meyer Lieder, when he was just that age-- + +That was enough to put him into a fright again. He bent his head, and +thought deeply. Then he raised it, and called out loud: + +"Grune!" + +"Hush! What is it? What makes you call out in that strange voice?" asked +Grune, crossly, running in. + +"Well, well, let me live!" said the cantor. "Why do you say 'in that +strange voice'? Whose voice was it? eh? What is the matter now?" + +There was a sound as of tears as he spoke. + +"You're cracked to-day! As nonsensical--Well, what do you want?" + +"Beat up one or two eggs for me!" begged the cantor, softly. + +"Here's a new holiday!" screamed Grune. "On a Wednesday! Have you got to +chant the Sabbath prayers? Eggs are so dear now--five kopeks apiece!" + +"Grune," commanded the cantor, "they may be one ruble apiece, two +rubles, five rubles, one hundred rubles. Do you hear? Beat up two eggs +for me, and don't talk!" + +"To be sure, you earn so much money!" muttered Grune. + +"Then you think it's all over with me?" said the cantor, boldly. "No, +Grune!" + +He wanted to tell her that he wasn't sure about it yet, there was still +hope, it might be all a fancy, perhaps it was imagination, but he was +afraid to say all that, and Grune did not understand what he stammered +out. She shrugged her shoulders, and only said, "Upon my word!" and went +to beat up the eggs. + +The cantor sat and sang to himself. He listened to every note as though +he were examining some one. Finding himself unable to take the high +octave, he called out despairingly: + +"Grune, make haste with the eggs!" His one hope lay in the eggs. + +The cantoress brought them with a cross face, and grumbled: + +"He wants eggs, and we're pinching and starving--" + +The cantor would have liked to open his heart to her, so that she should +not think the eggs were what he cared about; he would have liked to say, +"Grune, I think I'm done for!" but he summoned all his courage and +refrained. + +"After all, it may be only an idea," he thought. + +And without saying anything further, he began to drink up the eggs as a +remedy. + +When they were finished, he tried to make a few cantor-like trills. In +this he succeeded, and he grew more cheerful. + +"It will be all right," he thought, "I shall not lose my voice so soon +as all that! Never mind Meyer Lieder, he drank! I don't drink, only a +little wine now and again, at a circumcision." + +His appetite returned, and he swallowed mouthful after mouthful. + +But his cheerfulness did not last: the erstwhile unsuccessful "death" +rang in his ears, and the worry returned and took possession of him. + +The fear of losing his voice had tormented the cantor for the greater +part of his life. His one care, his one anxiety had been, what should he +do if he were to lose his voice? It had happened to him once already, +when he was fourteen years old. He had a tenor voice, which broke all of +a sudden. But that time he didn't care. On the contrary, he was +delighted, he knew that his voice was merely changing, and that in six +months he would get the baritone for which he was impatiently waiting. +But when he had got the baritone, he knew that when he lost that, it +would be lost indeed--he would get no other voice. So he took great care +of it--how much more so when he had his own household, and had taken the +office of cantor in Klemenke! Not a breath of wind was allowed to blow +upon his throat, and he wore a comforter in the hottest weather. + +It was not so much on account of the Klemenke householders--he felt sure +they would not dismiss him from his office. Even if he were to lose his +voice altogether, he would still receive his salary. It was not brought +to him to his house, as it was--he had to go for it every Friday from +door to door, and the Klemenke Jews were good-hearted, and never refused +anything to the outstretched hand. He took care of his voice, and +trembled to lose it, only out of love for the singing. He thought a +great deal of the Klemenke Jews--their like was not to be found--but in +the interpretation of music they were uninitiated, they had no feeling +whatever. And when, standing before the altar, he used to make artistic +trills and variations, and take the highest notes, that was for +_himself_--he had great joy in it--and also for his eight singers, who +were all the world to him. His very life was bound up with them, and +when one of them exclaimed, "Oi, cantor! Oi, how you sing!" his +happiness was complete. + +The singers had come together from various towns and villages, and all +their conversations and their stories turned and wrapped themselves +round cantors and music. These stories and legends were the cantor's +delight, he would lose himself in every one of them, and give a sweet, +deep sigh: + +"As if music were a trifle! As if a feeling were a toy!" And now that he +had begun to fear he was losing his voice, it seemed to him the singers +were different people--bad people! They must be laughing at him among +themselves! And he began to be on his guard against them, avoided taking +a high note in their presence, lest they should find out--and suffered +all the more. + +And what would the neighboring cantors say? The thought tormented him +further. He knew that he had a reputation among them, that he was a +great deal thought of, that his voice was much talked of. He saw in his +mind's eye a couple of cantors whispering together, and shaking their +heads sorrowfully: they are pitying him! "How sad! You have heard? The +poor Klemenke cantor----" + +The vision quite upset him. + +"Perhaps it's only fancy!" he would say to himself in those dreadful +moments, and would begin to sing, to try his highest notes. But the +terror he was in took away his hearing, and he could not tell if his +voice were what it should be or not. + +In two weeks time his face grew pale and thin, his eyes were sunk, and +he felt his strength going. + +"What is the matter with you, cantor?" said a singer to him one day. + +"Ha, what is the matter?" asked the cantor, with a start, thinking they +had already found out. "You ask what is the matter with me? Then you +know something about it, ha!" + +"No, I know nothing. That is why I ask you why you look so upset." + +"Upset, you say? Nothing more than upset, ha? That's all?" + +"The cantor must be thinking out some new piece for the Solemn Days," +decided the choir. + +Another month went by, and the cantor had not got the better of his +fear. Life had become distasteful to him. If he had known for certain +that his voice was gone, he would perhaps have been calmer. Verfallen! +No one can live forever (losing his voice and dying was one and the same +to him), but the uncertainty, the tossing oneself between yes and no, +the Olom ha-Tohu of it all, embittered the cantor's existence. + +At last, one fine day, the cantor resolved to get at the truth: he could +bear it no longer. + +It was evening, the wife had gone to the market for meat, and the choir +had gone home, only the eldest singer, Yössel "bass," remained with the +cantor. + +The cantor looked at him, opened his mouth and shut it again; it was +difficult for him to say what he wanted to say. + +At last he broke out with: + +"Yössel!" + +"What is it, cantor?" + +"Tell me, are you an honest man?" + +Yössel "bass" stared at the cantor, and asked: + +"What are you asking me to-day, cantor?" + +"Brother Yössel," the cantor said, all but weeping, "Brother Yössel!" + +That was all he could say. + +"Cantor, what is wrong with you?" + +"Brother Yössel, be an honest man, and tell me the truth, the truth!" + +"I don't understand! What is the matter with you, cantor?" + +"Tell me the truth: Do you notice any change in me?" + +"Yes, I do," answered the singer, looking at the cantor, and seeing how +pale and thin he was. "A very great change----" + +"Now I see you are an honest man, you tell me the truth to my face. Do +you know when it began?" + +"It will soon be a month," answered the singer. + +"Yes, brother, a month, a month, but I felt--" + +The cantor wiped off the perspiration that covered his forehead, and +continued: + +"And you think, Yössel, that it's lost now, for good and all?" + +"That _what_ is lost?" asked Yössel, beginning to be aware that the +conversation turned on something quite different from what was in his +own mind. + +"What? How can you ask? Ah? What should I lose? Money? I have no +money--I mean--of course--my voice." + +Then Yössel understood everything--he was too much of a musician _not_ +to understand. Looking compassionately at the cantor, he asked: + +"For certain?" + +"For certain?" exclaimed the cantor, trying to be cheerful. "Why must it +be for certain? Very likely it's all a mistake--let us hope it is!" + +Yössel looked at the cantor, and as a doctor behaves to his patient, so +did he: + +"Take _do_!" he said, and the cantor, like an obedient pupil, drew out +_do_. + +"Draw it out, draw it out! Four quavers--draw it out!" commanded Yössel, +listening attentively. + +The cantor drew it out. + +"Now, if you please, _re_!" + +The cantor sang out _re-re-re_. + +The singer moved aside, appeared to be lost in thought, and then said, +sadly: + +"Gone!" + +"Forever?" + +"Well, are you a little boy? Are you likely to get another voice? At +your time of life, gone is gone!" + +The cantor wrung his hands, threw himself down beside the table, and, +laying his head on his arms, he burst out crying like a child. + +Next morning the whole town had heard of the misfortune--that the cantor +had lost his voice. + +"It's an ill wind----" quoted the innkeeper, a well-to-do man. "He won't +keep us so long with his trills on Sabbath. I'd take a bitter onion for +that voice of his, any day!" + + + + +LATE + + +It was in sad and hopeless mood that Antosh watched the autumn making +its way into his peasant's hut. The days began to shorten and the +evenings to lengthen, and there was no more petroleum in the hut to fill +his humble lamp; his wife complained too--the store of salt was giving +out; there was very little soap left, and in a few days he would finish +his tobacco. And Antosh cleared his throat, spat, and muttered countless +times a day: + +"No salt, no soap, no tobacco; we haven't got anything. A bad business!" + +Antosh had no prospect of earning anything in the village. The one +village Jew was poor himself, and had no work to give. Antosh had only +_one_ hope left. Just before the Feast of Tabernacles he would drive a +whole cart-load of fir-boughs into the little town and bring a tidy sum +of money home in exchange. + +He did this every year, since buying his thin horse in the market for +six rubles. + +"When shall you have Tabernacles?" he asked every day of the village +Jew. "Not yet," was the Jew's daily reply. "But when _shall_ you?" +Antosh insisted one day. + +"In a week," answered the Jew, not dreaming how very much Antosh needed +to know precisely. + +In reality there were only five more days to Tabernacles, and Antosh had +calculated with business accuracy that it would be best to take the +fir-boughs into the town two days before the festival. But this was +really the first day of it. + +He rose early, ate his dry, black bread dipped in salt, and drank a +measure of water. Then he harnessed his thin, starved horse to the cart, +took his hatchet, and drove into the nearest wood. + +He cut down the branches greedily, seeking out the thickest and longest. + +"Good ware is easier sold," he thought, and the cart filled, and the +load grew higher and higher. He was calculating on a return of three +gulden, and it seemed still too little, so that he went on cutting, and +laid on a few more boughs. The cart could hold no more, and Antosh +looked at it from all sides, and smiled contentedly. + +"That will be enough," he muttered, and loosened the reins. But scarcely +had he driven a few paces, when he stopped and looked the cart over +again. + +"Perhaps it's not enough, after all?" he questioned fearfully, cut down +five more boughs, laid them onto the already full cart, and drove on. + +He drove slowly, pace by pace, and his thoughts travelled slowly too, as +though keeping step with the thin horse. + +Antosh was calculating how much salt and how much soap, how much +petroleum and how much tobacco he could buy for the return for his ware. +At length the calculating tired him, and he resolved to put it off till +he should have the cash. Then the calculating would be done much more +easily. + +But when he reached the town, and saw that the booths were already +covered with fir-boughs, he felt a pang at his heart. The booths and the +houses seemed to be twirling round him in a circle, and dancing. But he +consoled himself with the thought that every year, when he drove into +town, he found many booths already covered. Some cover earlier, some +later. The latter paid the best. + +"I shall ask higher prices," he resolved, and all the while fear tugged +at his heart. He drove on. Two Jewish women were standing before a +house; they pointed at the cart with their finger, and laughed aloud. + +"Why do you laugh?" queried Antosh, excitedly. + +"Because you are too soon with your fir-boughs," they answered, and +laughed again. + +"How too soon?" he asked, astonished. "Too soon--too soon--" laughed the +women. + +"Pfui," Antosh spat, and drove on, thinking, "Berko said himself, 'In a +week.' I am only two days ahead." + +A cold sweat covered him, as he reflected he might have made a wrong +calculation, founded on what Berko had told him. It was possible that he +had counted the days badly--had come too late! There is no doubt: all +the booths are covered with fir-boughs. He will have no salt, no +tobacco, no soap, and no petroleum. + +Sadly he followed the slow paces of his languid horse, which let his +weary head droop as though out of sympathy for his master. + +Meantime the Jews were crowding out of the synagogues in festal array, +with their prayer-scarfs and prayer-books in their hands. When they +perceived the peasant with the cart of fir-boughs, they looked +questioningly one at the other: Had they made a mistake and begun the +festival too early? + +"What have you there?" some one inquired. + +"What?" answered Antosh, taken aback. "Fir-boughs! Buy, my dear friend, +I sell it cheap!" he begged in a piteous voice. + +The Jews burst out laughing. + +"What should we want it for now, fool?" "The festival has begun!" said +another. Antosh was confused with his misfortune, he scratched the back +of his head, and exclaimed, weeping: + +"Buy! Buy! I want salt, soap! I want petroleum." + +The group of Jews, who had begun by laughing, were now deeply moved. +They saw the poor, starving peasant standing there in his despair, and +were filled with a lively compassion. + +"A poor Gentile--it's pitiful!" said one, sympathetically. "He hoped to +make a fortune out of his fir-boughs, and now!" observed another. + +"It would be proper to buy up that bit of fir," said a third, "else it +might cause a Chillul ha-Shem." "On a festival?" objected some one else. + +"It can always be used for firewood," said another, contemplating the +cartful. + +"Whether or no! It's a festival----" + +"No salt, no soap, no petroleum--" It was the refrain of the bewildered +peasant, who did not understand what the Jews were saying among +themselves. He could only guess that they were talking about him. "Hold! +he doesn't want _money_! He wants ware. Ware without money may be given +even on a festival," called out one. + +The interest of the bystanders waxed more lively. Among them stood a +storekeeper, whose shop was close by. "Give him, Chayyim, a few jars of +salt and other things that he wants--even if it comes to a few gulden. +We will contribute." + +"All right, willingly!" said Chayyim, "A poor Gentile!" + +"A precept, a precept! It would be carrying out a religious precept, as +surely as I am a Jew!" chimed in every individual member of the crowd. + +Chayyim called the peasant to him; all the rest followed. He gave him +out of the stores two jars of salt, a bar of soap, a bottle of +petroleum, and two packets of tobacco. + +The peasant did not know what to do for joy. He could only stammer in a +low voice, "Thank you! thank you!" + +"And there's a bit of Sabbath loaf," called out one, when he had packed +the things away, "take that with you!" + +"There's some more!" and a second hand held some out to him. + +"More!" + +"More!" + +"And more!" + +They brought Antosh bread and cake from all sides; his astonishment was +such that he could scarcely articulate his thanks. + +The people were pleased with themselves, and Yainkel Leives, a cheerful +man, who was well supplied for the festival, because his daughter's +"intended" was staying in his house, brought Antosh a glass of brandy: + +"Drink, and drive home, in the name of God!" + +Antosh drank the brandy with a quick gulp, bit off a piece of cake, and +declared joyfully, "I shall never forget it!" + +"Not at all a bad Gentile," remarked someone in the crowd. + +"Well, what would you have? Did you expect him to beat you?" queried +another, smiling. + +The words "to beat" made a melancholy impression on the crowd, and it +dispersed in silence. + + + + +THE KADDISH + + +From behind the curtain came low moans, and low words of encouragement +from the old and experienced Bobbe. In the room it was dismal to +suffocation. The seven children, all girls, between twenty-three and +four years old, sat quietly, each by herself, with drooping head, and +waited for something dreadful. + +At a little table near a great cupboard with books sat the "patriarch" +Reb Selig Chanes, a tall, thin Jew, with a yellow, consumptive face. He +was chanting in low, broken tones out of a big Gemoreh, and continually +raising his head, giving a nervous glance at the curtain, and then, +without inquiring what might be going on beyond the low moaning, taking +up once again his sad, tremulous chant. He seemed to be suffering more +than the woman in childbirth herself. + +"Lord of the World!"--it was the eldest daughter who broke the +stillness--"Let it be a boy for once! Help, Lord of the World, have +pity!" + +"Oi, thus might it be, Lord of the World!" chimed in the second. + +And all the girls, little and big, with broken heart and prostrate +spirit, prayed that there might be born a boy. + +Reb Selig raised his eyes from the Gemoreh, glanced at the curtain, then +at the seven girls, gave vent to a deep-drawn Oi, made a gesture with +his hand, and said with settled despair, "She will give you another +sister!" + +The seven girls looked at one another in desperation; their father's +conclusion quite crushed them, and they had no longer even the courage +to pray. + +Only the littlest, the four-year-old, in the torn frock, prayed softly: + +"Oi, please God, there will be a little brother." + +"I shall die without a Kaddish!" groaned Reb Selig. + +The time drags on, the moans behind the curtain grow louder, and Reb +Selig and the elder girls feel that soon, very soon, the "grandmother" +will call out in despair, "A little girl!" And Reb Selig feels that the +words will strike home to his heart like a blow, and he resolves to run +away. + +He goes out into the yard, and looks up at the sky. It is midnight. The +moon swims along so quietly and indifferently, the stars seem to frolic +and rock themselves like little children, and still Reb Selig hears, in +the "grandmother's" husky voice, "A girl!" + +"Well, there will be no Kaddish! Verfallen!" he says, crossing the yard +again. "There's no getting it by force!" + +But his trying to calm himself is useless; the fear that it should be a +girl only grows upon him. He loses patience, and goes back into the +house. + +But the house is in a turmoil. + +"What is it, eh?" + +"A little boy! Tate, a boy! Tatinke, as surely may I be well!" with this +news the seven girls fall upon him with radiant faces. + +"Eh, a little boy?" asked Reb Selig, as though bewildered, "eh? what?" + +"A boy, Reb Selig, a Kaddish!" announced the "grandmother." "As soon as +I have bathed him, I will show him you!" + +"A boy ... a boy ..." stammered Reb Selig in the same bewilderment, and +he leant against the wall, and burst into tears like a woman. + +The seven girls took alarm. + +"That is for joy," explained the "grandmother," "I have known that +happen before." + +"A boy ... a boy!" sobbed Reb Selig, overcome with happiness, "a boy ... +a boy ... a Kaddish!" + + * * * * * + +The little boy received the name of Jacob, but he was called, by way of +a talisman, Alter. + +Reb Selig was a learned man, and inclined to think lightly of such +protective measures; he even laughed at his Cheike for believing in such +foolishness; but, at heart, he was content to have it so. Who could tell +what might not be in it, after all? Women sometimes know better than +men. + +By the time Alterke was three years old, Reb Selig's cough had become +worse, the sense of oppression on his chest more frequent. But he held +himself morally erect, and looked death calmly in the face, as though he +would say, "Now I can afford to laugh at you--I leave a Kaddish!" + +"What do you think, Cheike," he would say to his wife, after a fit of +coughing, "would Alterke be able to say Kaddish if I were to die to-day +or to-morrow?" + +"Go along with you, crazy pate!" Cheike would exclaim in secret alarm. +"You are going to live a long while! Is your cough anything new?" + +Selig smiled, "Foolish woman, she supposes I am afraid to die. When one +leaves a Kaddish, death is a trifle." + +Alterke was sitting playing with a prayer-book and imitating his father +at prayer, "A num-num--a num-num." + +"Listen to him praying!" and Cheike turned delightedly to her husband. +"His soul is piously inclined!" + +Selig made no reply, he only gazed at his Kaddish with a beaming face. +Then an idea came into his head: Alterke will be a Tzaddik, will help +him out of all his difficulties in the other world. + +"Mame, I want to eat!" wailed Alterke, suddenly. + +He was given a piece of the white bread which was laid aside, for him +only, every Sabbath. + +Alterke began to eat. + +"Who bringest forth! Who bringest forth!" called out Reb Selig. + +"Tan't!" answered the child. + +"It is time you taught him to say grace," observed Cheike. + +And Reb Selig drew Alterke to him and began to repeat with him. + +"Say: Boruch." + +"Bo'uch," repeated the child after his fashion. + +"Attoh." + +"Attoh." + +When Alterke had finished "Who bringest forth," Cheike answered piously +Amen, and Reb Selig saw Alterke, in imagination, standing in the +synagogue and repeating Kaddish, and heard the congregation answer +Amen, and he felt as though he were already seated in the Garden of +Eden. + + * * * * * + +Another year went by, and Reb Selig was feeling very poorly. Spring had +come, the snow had melted, and he found the wet weather more trying than +ever before. He could just drag himself early to the synagogue, but +going to the afternoon service had become a difficulty, and he used to +recite the afternoon and later service at home, and spend the whole +evening with Alterke. + +It was late at night. All the houses were shut. Reb Selig sat at his +little table, and was looking into the corner where Cheike's bed stood, +and where Alterke slept beside her. Selig had a feeling that he would +die that night. He felt very tired and weak, and with an imploring look +he crept up to Alterke's crib, and began to wake him. + +The child woke with a start. + +"Alterke"--Reb Selig was stroking the little head--"come to me for a +little!" + +The child, who had had his first sleep out, sprang up, and went to his +father. + +Reb Selig sat down in the chair which stood by the little table with the +open Gemoreh, lifted Alterke onto the table, and looked into his eyes. + +"Alterke!" + +"What, Tate?" + +"Would you like me to die?" + +"Like," answered the child, not knowing what "to die" meant, and +thinking it must be something nice. + +"Will you say Kaddish after me?" asked Reb Selig, in a strangled voice, +and he was seized with a fit of coughing. + +"Will say!" promised the child. + +"Shall you know how?" + +"Shall!" + +"Well, now, say: Yisgaddal." + +"Yisdaddal," repeated the child in his own way. + +"Veyiskaddash." + +"Veyistaddash." + +And Reb Selig repeated the Kaddish with him several times. + +The small lamp burnt low, and scarcely illuminated Reb Selig's yellow, +corpse-like face, or the little one of Alterke, who repeated wearily the +difficult, and to him unintelligible words of the Kaddish. And Alterke, +all the while, gazed intently into the corner, where Tate's shadow and +his own had a most fantastic and frightening appearance. + + + + +AVRÒHOM THE ORCHARD-KEEPER + + +When he first came to the place, as a boy, and went straight to the +house-of-study, and people, having greeted him, asked "Where do you come +from?" and he answered, not without pride, "From the Government of +Wilna"--from that day until the day he was married, they called him "the +Wilner." + +In a few years' time, however, when the house-of-study had married him +to the daughter of the Psalm-reader, a coarse, undersized creature, and +when, after six months' "board" with his father-in-law, he became a +teacher, the town altered his name to "the Wilner teacher." Again, a few +years later, when he got a chest affection, and the doctor forbade him +to keep school, and he began to deal in fruit, the town learnt that his +name was Avròhom, to which they added "the orchard-keeper," and his name +is "Avròhom the orchard-keeper" to this day. + +Avròhom was quite content with his new calling. He had always wished for +a business in which he need not have to do with a lot of people in whom +he had small confidence, and in whose society he felt ill at ease. + +People have a queer way with them, he used to think, they want to be +always talking! They want to tell everything, find out everything, +answer everything! + +When he was a student he always chose out a place in a corner somewhere, +where he could see nobody, and nobody could see him; and he used to +murmur the day's task to a low tune, and his murmured repetition made +him think of the ruin in which Rabbi José, praying there, heard the +Bas-Kol mourn, cooing like a dove, over the exile of Israel. And then he +longed to float away to that ruin somewhere in the wilderness, and +murmur there like a dove, with no one, no one, to interrupt him, not +even the Bas-Kol. But his vision would be destroyed by some hard +question which a fellow-student would put before him, describing circles +with his thumb and chanting to a shrill Gemoreh-tune. + +In the orchard, at the end of the Gass, however, which Avròhom hired of +the Gentiles, he had no need to exchange empty words with anyone. +Avròhom had no large capital, and could not afford to hire an orchard +for more than thirty rubles. The orchard was consequently small, and +only grew about twenty apple-trees, a few pear-trees, and a cherry-tree. +Avròhom used to move to the garden directly after the Feast of Weeks, +although that was still very early, the fruit had not yet set, and there +was nothing to steal. + +But Avròhom could not endure sitting at home any longer, where the wife +screamed, the children cried, and there was a continual "fair." What +should he want there? He only wished to be alone with his thoughts and +imaginings, and his quiet "tunes," which were always weaving themselves +inside him, and were nearly stifled. + +It is early to go to the orchard directly after the Feast of Weeks, but +Avròhom does not mind, he is drawn back to the trees that can think and +hear so much, and keep so many things to themselves. + +And Avròhom betakes himself to the orchard. He carries with him, besides +phylacteries and prayer-scarf, a prayer-book with the Psalms and the +"Stations," two volumes of the Gemoreh which he owns, a few works by the +later scholars, and the Tales of Jerusalem; he takes his wadded winter +garment and a cushion, makes them into a bundle, kisses the Mezuzeh, +mutters farewell, and is off to the orchard. + +As he nears the orchard his heart begins to beat loudly for joy, but he +is hindered from going there at once. In the yard through which he must +pass lies a dog. Later on, when Avròhom has got to know the dog, he will +even take him into the orchard, but the first time there is a certain +risk--one has to know a dog, otherwise it barks, and Avròhom dreads a +bark worse than a bite--it goes through one's head! And Avròhom waits +till the owner comes out, and leads him through by the hand. + +"Back already?" exclaims the owner, laughing and astonished. + +"Why not?" murmurs Avròhom, shamefacedly, and feeling that it is, +indeed, early. + +"What shall you do?" asks the owner, graver. "There is no hut there at +all--last year's fell to pieces." + +"Never mind, never mind," begs Avròhom, "it will be all right." + +"Well, if you want to come!" and the owner shrugs his shoulders, and +lets Avròhom into the orchard. + +Avròhom immediately lays his bundle on the ground, stretches himself out +full length on the grass, and murmurs, "Good! good!" + +At last he is silent, and listens to the quiet rustle of the trees. It +seems to him that the trees also wonder at his coming so soon, and he +looks at them beseechingly, as though he would say: + +"Trees--you, too! I couldn't help it ... it drew me...." + +And soon he fancies that the trees have understood everything, and +murmur, "Good, good!" + +And Avròhom already feels at home in the orchard. He rises from the +ground, and goes to every tree in turn, as though to make its +acquaintance. Then he considers the hut that stands in the middle of the +orchard. + +It has fallen in a little certainly, but Avròhom is all the better +pleased with it. He is not particularly fond of new, strong things, a +building resembling a ruin is somehow much more to his liking. Such a +ruin is inwardly full of secrets, whispers, and melodies. There the +tears fall quietly, while the soul yearns after something that has no +name and no existence in time or space. And Avròhom creeps into the +fallen-in hut, where it is dark and where there are smells of another +world. He draws himself up into a ball, and remains hid from everyone. + + * * * * * + +But to remain hid from the world is not so easy. At first it can be +managed. So long as the fruit is ripening, he needs no one, and no one +needs him. When one of his children brings him food, he exchanges a few +words with it, asks what is going on at home, and how the mother is, and +he feels he has done his duty, if, when obliged to go home, he spends +there Friday night and Saturday morning. That over, and the hot stew +eaten, he returns to the orchard, lies down under a tree, opens the +Tales of Jerusalem, goes to sleep reading a fantastical legend, dreams +of the Western Wall, Mother Rachel's Grave, the Cave of Machpelah, and +other holy, quiet places--places where the air is full of old stories +such as are given, in such easy Hebrew, in the Tales of Jerusalem. + +But when the fruit is ripe, and the trees begin to bend under the burden +of it, Avròhom must perforce leave his peaceful world, and become a +trader. + +When the first wind begins to blow in the orchard, and covers the ground +thereof with apples and pears, Avròhom collects them, makes them into +heaps, sorts them, and awaits the market-women with their loud tongues, +who destroy all the peace and quiet of his Garden of Eden. + +On Sabbath he would like to rest, but of a Sabbath the trade in +apples--on tick of course--is very lively in the orchards. There is a +custom in the town to that effect, and Avròhom cannot do away with it. +Young gentlemen and young ladies come into the orchard, and hold a sort +of revel; they sing and laugh, they walk and they chatter, and Avròhom +must listen to it all, and bear it, and wait for the night, when he can +creep back into his hut, and need look at no one but the trees, and hear +nothing but the wind, and sometimes the rain and the thunder. + +But it is worse in the autumn, when the fruit is getting over-ripe, and +he can no longer remain in the orchard. With a bursting heart he bids +farewell to the trees, to the hut in which he has spent so many quiet, +peaceful moments. He conveys the apples to a shed belonging to the farm, +which he has hired, ever since he had the orchard, for ten gulden a +month, and goes back to the Gass. + +In the Gass, at that time, there is mud and rain. Town Jews drag +themselves along sick and disheartened. They cough and groan. Avròhom +stares round him, and fails to recognize the world. + +"Bad!" he mutters. "Fê!" and he spits. "Where is one to get to?" + +And Avròhom recalls the beautiful legends in the Tales of Jerusalem, he +recalls the land of Israel. + +There he knows it is always summer, always warm and fine. And every +autumn the vision draws him. + +But there is no possibility of his being able to go there--he must sell +the apples which he has brought from the orchard, and feed the wife and +the children he has "outside the land." And all through the autumn and +part of the winter, Avròhom drags himself about with a basket of apples +on his arm and a yearning in his heart. He waits for the dear summer, +when he will be able to go back and hide himself in the orchard, in the +hut, and be alone, where the town mud and the town Jews with dulled +senses shall be out of sight, and the week-day noise, out of hearing. + + + + +HIRSH DAVID NAUMBERG + + +Born, 1876, in Msczczonow, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland, of +Hasidic parentage; traditional Jewish education in the house of his +grandfather; went to Warsaw in 1898; at present (1912) in America; first +literary work appeared in 1900; writer of stories, etc., in Hebrew and +Yiddish; co-editor of Ha-Zofeh, Der Freind, Ha-Boker; contributor to +Ha-Zeman, Heint, Ha-Dor, Ha-Shiloah, etc.; collected works, 5 vols., +Warsaw, 1908-1911. + + + + +THE RAV AND THE RAV'S SON + + +The Sabbath midday meal is over, and the Saken Rav passes his hands +across his serene and pious countenance, pulls out both earlocks, +straightens his skull-cap, and prepares to expound a passage of the +Torah as God shall enlighten him. There sit with him at table, to one +side of him, a passing guest, a Libavitch Chossid, like the Rav himself, +a man with yellow beard and earlocks, and a grubby shirt collar +appearing above the grubby yellow kerchief that envelopes his throat; to +the other side of him, his son Sholem, an eighteen-year-old youth, with +a long pale face, deep, rather dreamy eyes, a velvet hat, but no +earlocks, a secret Maskil, who writes Hebrew verses, and contemplates +growing into a great Jewish author. The Rebbetzin has been suffering two +or three months with rheumatism, and lies in another room. + +The Rav is naturally humble-minded, and it is no trifle to him to +expound the Torah. To take a passage of the Bible and say, The meaning +is this and that, is a thing he hasn't the cheek to do. It makes him +feel as uncomfortable as if he were telling lies. Up to twenty-five +years of age he was a Misnaggid, but under the influence of the Saken +Rebbetzin, he became a Chossid, bit by bit. Now he is over fifty, he +drives to the Rebbe, and comes home every time with increased faith in +the latter's supernatural powers, and, moreover, with a strong desire to +expound a little of the Torah himself; only, whenever a good idea comes +into his head, it oppresses him, because he has not sufficient +self-confidence to express it. + +The difficulty for him lies in making a start. He would like to do as +the Rebbe does (long life to him!)--give a push to his chair, a look, +stern and somewhat angry, at those sitting at table, then a groaning +sigh. But the Rav is ashamed to imitate him, or is partly afraid, lest +people should catch him doing it. He drops his eyes, holds one hand to +his forehead, while the other plays with the knife on the table, and one +hardly hears: + +"When thou goest forth to war with thine enemy--thine enemy--that is, +the inclination to evil, oi, oi,--a--" he nods his head, gathers a +little confidence, continues his explanation of the passage, and +gradually warms to the part. He already looks the stranger boldly in the +face. The stranger twists himself into a correct attitude, nods assent, +but cannot for the life of him tear his gaze from the brandy-bottle on +the table, and cannot wonder sufficiently at so much being allowed to +remain in it at the end of a meal. And when the Rav comes to the fact +that to be in "prison" means to have bad habits, and "well-favored +woman" means that every bad habit has its good side, the guest can no +longer restrain himself, seizes the bottle rather awkwardly, as though +in haste, fills up his glass, spills a little onto the cloth, and drinks +with his head thrown back, gulping it like a regular tippler, after a +hoarse and sleepy "to your health." This has a bad effect on the Rav's +enthusiasm, it "mixes his brains," and he turns to his son for help. To +tell the truth, he has not much confidence in his son where the Law is +concerned, although he loves him dearly, the boy being the only one of +his children in whom he may hope, with God's help, to have comfort, and +who, a hundred years hence, shall take over from him the office of Rav +in Saken. The elder son is rich, but he is a usurer, and his riches give +the Rav no satisfaction whatever. He had had one daughter, but she died, +leaving some little orphans. Sholem is, therefore, the only one left +him. He has a good head, and is quick at his studies, a quiet, +well-behaved boy, a little obstinate, a bit opinionated, but that is no +harm in a boy, thinks the old man. True, too, that last week people told +him tales. Sholem, they said, read heretical books, and had been seen +carrying "burdens" on Sabbath. But this the father does not believe, he +will not and cannot believe it. Besides, Sholem is certain to have made +amends. If a Talmid-Chochem commit a sin by day, it should be forgotten +by nightfall, because a Talmid-Chochem makes amends, it says so in the +Gemoreh. + +However, the Rav is ashamed to give his own exegesis of the Law before +his son, and he knows perfectly well that nothing will induce Sholem to +drive with him to the Rebbe. + +But the stranger and his brandy-drinking have so upset him that he now +looks at his son in a piteous sort of way. "Hear me out, Sholem, what +harm can it do you?" says his look. + +Sholem draws himself up, and pulls in his chair, supports his head with +both his hands, and gazes into his father's eyes out of filial duty. He +loves his father, but in his heart he wonders at him; it seems to him +his father ought to learn more about his heretical leanings--it is quite +time he should--and he continues to gaze in silence and in wonder, not +unmixed with compassion, and never ceases thinking, "Upon my word, Tate, +what a simpleton you are!" + +But when the Rav came in the course of his exposition to speak of "death +by kissing" (by the Lord), and told how the righteous, the holy +Tzaddikim, die from the very sweetness of the Blessed One's kiss, a +spark kindled in Sholem's eyes, and he moved in his chair. One of those +wonders had taken place which do frequently occur, only they are seldom +remarked: the Chassidic exposition of the Torah had suggested to Sholem +a splendid idea for a romantic poem! + +It is an old commonplace that men take in, of what they hear and see, +that which pleases them. Sholem is fascinated. He wishes to die anyhow, +so what could be more appropriate and to the purpose than that his love +should kiss him on his death-bed, while, in that very instant, his soul +departs? + +The idea pleased him so immensely that immediately after grace, the +stranger having gone on his way, and the Rav laid himself down to sleep +in the other room, Sholem began to write. His heart beat violently while +he made ready, but the very act of writing out a poem after dinner on +Sabbath, in the room where his father settled the cases laid before him +by the townsfolk, was a bit of heroism well worth the risk. He took the +writing-materials out of his locked box, and, the pen and ink-pot in one +hand and a collection of manuscript verse in the other, he went on +tiptoe to the table. + +He folded back the table-cover, laid down his writing apparatus, and +took another look around to make sure no one was in the room. He counted +on the fact that when the Rav awoke from his nap, he always coughed, and +that when he walked he shuffled so with his feet, and made so much noise +with his long slippers, that one could hear him two rooms off. In short, +there was no need to be anxious. + +He grows calmer, reads the manuscript poems, and his face tells that he +is pleased. Now he wants to collect his thoughts for the new one, but +something or other hinders him. He unfastens the girdle, round his +waist, rolls it up, and throws it into the Rav's soft stuffed chair. + +And now that there is nothing to disturb from without, a second and +third wonder must take place within: the Rav's Torah, which was +transformed by Sholem's brain into a theme for romance, must now descend +into his heart, thence to pour itself onto the paper, and pass, by this +means, into the heads of Sholem's friends, who read his poems with +enthusiasm, and have sinful dreams afterwards at night. + +And he begins to imagine himself on his death-bed, sick and weak, unable +to speak, and with staring eyes. He sees nothing more, but he feels a +light, ethereal kiss on his cheek, and his soul is aware of a sweet +voice speaking. He tries to take out his hands from under the coverlet, +but he cannot--he is dying--it grows dark. + +A still brighter and more unusual gleam comes into Sholem's eyes, his +heart swells with emotion seeking an outlet, his brain works like +running machinery, a whole dictionary of words, his whole treasure of +conceptions and ideas, is turned over and over so rapidly that the mind +is unconscious of its own efforts. His poetic instinct is searching for +what it needs. His hand works quietly, forming letter on letter, word on +word. Now and again Sholem lifts his eyes from the paper and looks +round, he has a feeling as though the four walls and the silence were +thinking to themselves: "Hush, hush! Disturb not the poet at his work of +creation! Disturb not the priest about to offer sacrifice to God." + + * * * * * + +To the Rav, meanwhile, lying in the other room, there had come a fresh +idea for the exposition of the Torah, and he required to look up +something in a book. The door of the reception-room opened, the Rav +entered, and Sholem had not heard him. + +It was a pity to see the Rav's face, it was so contracted with dismay, +and a pity to see Sholem's when he caught sight of his father, who, +utterly taken aback, dropt into a seat exactly opposite Sholem, and gave +a groan--was it? or a cry? + +But he did not sit long, he did not know what one should do or say to +one's son on such an occasion; his heart and his eyes inclined to +weeping, and he retired into his own room. Sholem remained alone with a +very sore heart and a soul opprest. He put the writing-materials back +into their box, and went out with the manuscript verses tucked away +under his Tallis-koton. + +He went into the house-of-study, but it looked dreadfully dismal; the +benches were pushed about anyhow, a sign that the last worshippers had +been in a great hurry to go home to dinner. The beadle was snoring on a +seat somewhere in a corner, as loud and as fast as if he were trying to +inhale all the air in the building, so that the next congregation might +be suffocated. The cloth on the platform reading-desk was crooked and +tumbled, the floor was dirty, and the whole place looked as dead as +though its Sabbath sleep were to last till the resurrection. + +He left the house-of-study, walked home and back again; up and down, +there and back, many times over. The situation became steadily clearer +to him; he wanted to justify himself, if only with a word, in his +father's eyes; then, again, he felt he must make an end, free himself +once and for all from the paternal restraint, and become a Jewish +author. Only he felt sorry for his father; he would have liked to do +something to comfort him. Only what? Kiss him? Put his arms round his +neck? Have his cry out before him and say, "Tatishe, you and I, we are +neither of us to blame!" Only how to say it so that the old man shall +understand? That is the question. + +And the Rav sat in his room, bent over a book in which he would fain +have lost himself. He rubbed his brow with both hands, but a stone lay +on his heart, a heavy stone; there were tears in his eyes, and he was +all but crying. He needed some living soul before whom he could pour out +the bitterness of his heart, and he had already turned to the Rebbetzin: + +"Zelde!" he called quietly. + +"A-h," sighed the Rebbetzin from her bed. "I feel bad; my foot aches, +Lord of the World! What is it?" + +"Nothing, Zelde. How are you getting on, eh?" He got no further with +her; he even mentally repented having so nearly added to her burden of +life. + +It was an hour or two before the Rav collected himself, and was able to +think over what had happened. And still he could not, would not, believe +that his son, Sholem, had broken the Sabbath, that he was worthy of +being stoned to death. He sought for some excuse for him, and found +none, and came at last to the conclusion that it was a work of Satan, a +special onset of the Tempter. And he kept on thinking of the Chassidic +legend of a Rabbi who was seen by a Chossid to smoke a pipe on Sabbath. +Only it was an illusion, a deception of the Evil One. But when, after he +had waited some time, no Sholem appeared, his heart began to beat more +steadily, the reality of the situation made itself felt, he got angry, +and hastily left the house in search of the Sabbath-breaker, intending +to make an example of him. + +Hardly, however, had he perceived his son walking to and fro in front of +the house-of-study, with a look of absorption and worry, than he stopped +short. He was afraid to go up to his son. Just then Sholem turned, they +saw each other, and the Rav had willy-nilly to approach him. + +"Will you come for a little walk?" asked the Rav gently, with downcast +eyes. Sholem made no reply, and followed him. + +They came to the Eruv, the Rav looked in all his pockets, found his +handkerchief, tied it round his neck, and glanced at his son with a kind +of prayer in his eye. Sholem tied his handkerchief round his neck. + +When they were outside the town, the old man coughed once and again and +said: + +"What is all this?" + +But Sholem was determined not to answer a word, and his father had to +summon all his courage to continue: + +"What is all this? Eh? Sabbath-breaking! It is--" + +He coughed and was silent. + +They were walking over a great, broad meadow, and Sholem had his gaze +fixed on a horse that was moving about with hobbled legs, while the Rav +shaded his eyes with one hand from the beams of the setting sun. + +"How can anyone break the Sabbath? Come now, is it right? Is it a thing +to do? Just to go and break the Sabbath! I knew Hebrew grammar, and +could write Hebrew, too, once upon a time, but break the Sabbath! Tell +me yourself, Sholem, what you think! When you have bad thoughts, how is +it you don't come to your father? I suppose I am your father, ha?" the +old man suddenly fired up. "Am I your father? Tell me--no? Am I perhaps +_not_ your father?" + +"For I _am_ his father," he reflected proudly. "That I certainly am, +there isn't the smallest doubt about it! The greatest heretic could not +deny it!" + +"You come to your father," he went on with more decision, and falling +into a Gemoreh chant, "and you tell him _all_ about it. What harm can it +do to tell him? No harm whatever. I also used to be tempted by bad +thoughts. Therefore I began driving to the Rebbe of Libavitch. One +mustn't let oneself go! Do you hear me, Sholem? One mustn't let oneself +go!" + +The last words were long drawn out, the Rav emphasizing them with his +hands and wrinkling his forehead. Carried away by what he was saying, he +now felt all but sure that Sholem had not begun to be a heretic. + +"You see," he continued very gently, "every now and then we come to a +stumbling-block, but all the same, we should not--" + +Meantime, however, the manuscript folio of verses had been slipping out +from under Sholem's Four-Corners, and here it fell to the ground. The +Rav stood staring, as though startled out of a sweet dream by the cry of +"fire." He quivered from top to toe, and seized his earlocks with both +hands. For there could be no doubt of the fact that Sholem had now +broken the Sabbath a second time--by carrying the folio outside the town +limit. And worse still, he had practiced deception, by searching his +pockets when they had come to the Eruv, as though to make sure not to +transgress by having anything inside them. + +Sholem, too, was taken by surprise. He hung his head, and his eyes +filled with tears. The old man was about to say something, probably to +begin again with "What is all this?" Then he hastily stopt and snatched +up the folio, as though he were afraid Sholem might get hold of it +first. + +"Ha--ha--azoi!" he began panting. "Azoi! A heretic! A Goi." + +But it was hard for him to speak. He might not move from where he stood, +so long as he held the papers, it being outside the Eruv. His ankles +were giving way, and he sat down to have a look at the manuscript. + +"Aha! Writing!" he exclaimed as he turned the leaves. "Come here to me," +he called to Sholem, who had moved a few steps aside. Sholem came and +stood obediently before him. "What is this?" asked the Rav, sternly. + +"Poems!" + +"What do you mean by poems? What is the good of them?" He felt that he +was growing weak again, and tried to stiffen himself morally. "What is +the good of them, heretic, tell me!" + +"They're just meant to read, Tatishe!" + +"What do you mean by 'read'? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, that's what you +want to be, is it? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, to lead others into heresy! +No! I won't have it! On no account will I have it!" + +The sun had begun to disappear; it was full time to go home; but the Rav +did not know what to do with the folio. He was afraid to leave it in the +field, lest Sholem or another should pick it up later, so he got up and +began to recite the Afternoon Prayer. Sholem remained standing in his +place, and tried to think of nothing and to do nothing. + +The old man finished "Sacrifices," tucked the folio into his girdle, +and, without moving a step, looked at Sholem, who did not move either. + +"Say the Afternoon Prayer, Shegetz!" commanded the old man. + +Sholem began to move his lips. And the Rav felt, as he went on with the +prayer, that this anger was cooling down. Before he came to the +Eighteen Benedictions, he gave another look at his son, and it seemed +madness to think of him as a heretic, to think that Sholem ought by +rights to be thrown into a ditch and stoned to death. + +Sholem, for his part, was conscious for the first time of his father's +will: for the first time in his life, he not only loved his father, but +was in very truth subject to him. + +The flaming red sun dropt quietly down behind the horizon just before +the old man broke down with emotion over "Thou art One," and took the +sky and the earth to witness that God is One and His Name is One, and +His people Israel one nation on the earth, to whom He gave the Sabbath +for a rest and an inheritance. The Rav wept and swallowed his tears, and +his eyes were closed. Sholem, on the other hand, could not take his eye +off the manuscript that stuck out of his father's girdle, and it was all +he could do not to snatch it and run away. + +They said nothing on the way home in the dark, they might have been +coming from a funeral. But Sholem's heart beat fast, for he knew his +father would throw the manuscript into the fire, where it would be +burnt, and when they came to the door of their house, he stopped his +father, and said in a voice eloquent of tears: + +"Give it me back, Tatishe, please give it me back!" + +And the Rav gave it him back without looking him in the face, and said: + +"Look here, only don't tell Mother! She is ill, she mustn't be upset. +She is ill, not of you be it spoken!" + + + + +MEYER BLINKIN + + +Born, 1879, in a village near Pereyaslav, Government of Poltava, Little +Russia, of Hasidic parentage; educated in Kieff, where he acquired the +trade of carpenter in order to win the right of residence; studied +medicine; began to write in 1906; came to New York in 1908; writer of +stories to the number of about fifty, which have been published in +various periodicals; wrote also Der Sod, and Dr. Makower. + + + + +WOMEN + +A PROSE POEM + + +Hedged round with tall, thick woods, as though designedly, so that no +one should know what happens there, lies the long-drawn-out old town of +Pereyaslav. + +To the right, connected with Pereyaslav by a wooden bridge, lies another +bit of country, named--Pidvorkes. + +The town itself, with its long, narrow, muddy streets, with the crowded +houses propped up one against the other like tombstones, with their +meagre grey walls all to pieces, with the broken window-panes stuffed +with rags--well, the town of Pereyaslav was hardly to be distinguished +from any other town inhabited by Jews. + +Here, too, people faded before they bloomed. Here, too, men lived on +miracles, were fruitful and multiplied out of all season and reason. +They talked of a livelihood, of good times, of riches and pleasures, +with the same appearance of firm conviction, and, at the same time the +utter disbelief, with which one tells a legend read in a book. + +And they really supposed these terms to be mere inventions of the +writers of books and nothing more! For not only were they incapable of a +distinct conception of their real meaning, but some had even given up +the very hope of ever being able to earn so much as a living, and +preferred not to reach out into the world with their thoughts, straining +them for nothing, that is, for the sake of a thing so plainly out of +the question as a competence. At night the whole town was overspread by +a sky which, if not grey with clouds, was of a troubled and washed-out +blue. But the people were better off than by day. Tired out, +overwrought, exhausted, prematurely aged as they were, they sought and +found comfort in the lap of the dreamy, secret, inscrutable night. Their +misery was left far behind, and they felt no more grief and pain. + +An unknown power hid everything from them as though with a thick, damp, +stone wall, and they heard and saw nothing. + +They did not hear the weak voices, like the mewing of blind kittens, of +their pining children, begging all day for food as though on purpose--as +though they knew there was none to give them. They did not hear the +sighs and groans of their friends and neighbors, filling the air with +the hoarse sound of furniture dragged across the floor; they did not +see, in sleep, Death-from-hunger swing quivering, on threads of +spider-web, above their heads. + +Even the little fires that flickered feverishly on their hearths, and +testified to the continued existence of breathing men, even these they +saw no longer. Silence cradled everything to sleep, extinguished it, and +caused it to be forgotten. + +Hardly, however, was it dawn, hardly had the first rays pierced beneath +the closed eyelids, before a whole world of misery awoke and came to +life again. + +The frantic cries of hundreds of starving children, despairing +exclamations and imprecations and other piteous sounds filled the air. +One gigantic curse uncoiled and crept from house to house, from door to +door, from mouth to mouth, and the population began to move, to bestir +themselves, to run hither and thither. + +Half-naked, with parched bones and shrivelled skin, with sunken yet +burning eyes, they crawled over one another like worms in a heap, +fastened on to the bites in each other's mouth, and tore them away-- + +But this is summer, and they are feeling comparatively cheerful, bold, +and free in their movements. They are stifled and suffocated, they are +in a melting-pot with heat and exhaustion, but there are +counter-balancing advantages; one can live for weeks at a time without +heating the stove; indeed, it is pleasanter indoors without fire, and +lighting will cost very little, now the evenings are short. + +In winter it was different. An inclement sky, an enfeebled sun, a sick +day, and a burning, biting frost! + +People, too, were different. A bitterness came over them, and they went +about anxious and irritable, with hanging head, possessed by gloomy +despair. It never even occurred to them to tear their neighbor's bite +out of his mouth, so depressed and preoccupied did they become. The days +were months, the evenings years, and the weeks--oh! the weeks were +eternities! + +And no one knew of their misery but the winter wind that tore at their +roofs and howled in their all but smokeless chimneys like one bewitched, +like a lost soul condemned to endless wandering. + +But there were bright stars in the abysmal darkness; their one pride and +consolation were the Pidvorkes, the inhabitants of the aforementioned +district of that name. Was it a question of the upkeep of a Reader or of +a bath, the support of a burial-society, of a little hospital or refuge, +a Rabbi, of providing Sabbath loaves for the poor, flour for the +Passover, the dowry of a needy bride--the Pidvorkes were ready! The sick +and lazy, the poverty-stricken and hopeless, found in them support and +protection. The Pidvorkes! They were an inexhaustible well that no one +had ever found to fail them, unless the Pidvorke husbands happened to be +present, on which occasion alone one came away with empty hands. + +The fair fame of the Pidvorkes extended beyond Pereyaslav to all poor +towns in the neighborhood. Talk of husbands--they knew about the +Pidvorkes a hundred miles round; the least thing, and they pointed out +to their wives how they should take a lesson from the Pidvorke women, +and then they would be equally rich and happy. + +It was not because the Pidvorkes had, within their border, great, green +velvety hills and large gardens full of flowers that they had reason to +be proud, or others, to be proud of them; not because wide fields, +planted with various kinds of corn, stretched for miles around them, the +delicate ears swaying in sunshine and wind; not even because there +flowed round the Pidvorkes a river so transparent, so full of the +reflection of the sky, you could not decide which was the bluest of the +two. Pereyaslav at any rate was not affected by any of these things, +perhaps knew nothing of them, and certainly did not wish to know +anything, for whoso dares to let his mind dwell on the like, sins +against God. Is it a Jewish concern? A townful of men who have a God, +and religious duties to perform, with reward and punishment, who have +_that_ world to prepare for, and a wife and children in _this_ one, +people must be mad (of the enemies of Zion be it said!) to stare at the +sky, the fields, the river, and all the rest of it--things which a man +on in years ought to blush to talk about. + +No, they are proud of the Pidvorke women, and parade them continually. +The Pidvorke women are no more attractive, no taller, no cleverer than +others. They, too, bear children and suckle them, one a year, after the +good old custom; neither are they more thought of by their husbands. On +the contrary, they are the best abused and tormented women going, and +herein lies their distinction. + +They put up, with the indifference of all women alike, to the belittling +to which they are subjected by their husbands; they swallow their +contempt by the mouthful without a reproach, and yet they are +exceptions; and yet they are distinguished from all other women, as the +rushing waters of the Dnieper from the stagnant pools in the marsh. + +About five in the morning, when the men-folk turn in bed, and bury their +faces in the white feather pillows, emitting at the same time strange, +broken sounds through their big, stupid, red noses--at this early hour +their wives have transacted half-a-day's business in the market-place. +Dressed in short, light skirts with blue aprons, over which depends on +their left a large leather pocket for the receiving of coin and the +giving out of change--one cannot be running every minute to the +cash-box--they stand in their shops with miscellaneous ware, and toil +hard. They weigh and measure, buy and sell, and all this with wonderful +celerity. There stands one of them by herself in a shop, and tries to +persuade a young, barefoot peasant woman to buy the printed cotton she +offers her, although the customer only wants a red cotton with a large, +flowery pattern. She talks without a pause, declaring that the young +peasant may depend upon her, she would not take her in for the world, +and, indeed, to no one else would she sell the article so cheap. But +soon her eye catches two other women pursuing a peasant man, and before +even making out whether he has any wares with him or not, she leaves her +customer and joins them. If they run, she feels so must she. The peasant +is sure to be wanting grease or salt, and that may mean ten kopeks' +unexpected gain. Meantime she is not likely to lose her present +customer, fascinated as the latter must be by her flow of speech. + +So she leaves her, and runs after the peasant, who is already surrounded +by a score of women, shrieking, one louder than the other, praising +their ware to the skies, and each trying to make him believe that he and +she are old acquaintances. But presently the tumult increases, there is +a cry, "Cheap fowls, who wants cheap fowls?" Some rich landholder has +sent out a supply of fowls to sell, and all the women swing round +towards the fowls, keeping a hold on the peasant's cart with their left +hand, so that you would think they wanted to drag peasant, horse, and +cart along with them. They bargain for a few minutes with the seller of +fowls, and advise him not to be obstinate and to take their offers, else +he will regret it later. + +Suddenly a voice thunders, "The peasants are coming!" and they throw +themselves as for dear life upon the cart-loads of produce; they run as +though to a conflagration, get under each other's feet, their eyes +glisten as though they each wanted to pull the whole market aside. There +is a shrieking and scolding, until one or another gets the better of the +rest, and secures the peasant's wares. Then only does each woman +remember that she has customers waiting in her shop, and she runs in +with a beaming smile and tells them that, as they have waited so long, +they shall be served with the best and the most beautiful of her store. + +By eight o'clock in the morning, when the market is over, when they have +filled all the bottles left with them by their customers, counted up the +change and their gains, and each one has slipped a coin into her knotted +handkerchief, so that her husband should not know of its existence (one +simply must! One is only human--one is surely not expected to wrangle +with _him_ about every farthing?)--then, when there is nothing more to +be done in the shops, they begin to gather in knots, and every one tells +at length the incidents and the happy strokes of business of the day. +They have forgotten all the bad luck they wished each other, all the +abuse they exchanged, while the market was in progress; they know that +"Parnosseh is Parnosseh," and bear no malice, or, if they do, it is only +if one has spoken unkindly of another during a period of quiet, on a +Sabbath or a holiday. + +Each talks with a special enthusiasm, and deep in her sunken eyes with +their blue-black rings there burns a proud, though tiny, fire, as she +recalls how she got the better of a customer, and sold something which +she had all but thrown away, and not only sold it, but better than +usual; or else they tell how late their husbands sleep, and then imagine +their wives are still in bed, and set about waking them, "It's time to +get up for the market," and they at once pretend to be sleepy--then, +when they have already been and come back! + +And very soon a voice is heard to tremble with pleasant excitement, and +a woman begins to relate the following: + +"Just you listen to me: I was up to-day when God Himself was still +asleep."--"That is not the way to talk, Sheine!" interrupts a +second.--"Well, well, well?" (there is a good deal of curiosity). "And +what happened?"--"It was this way: I went out quietly, so that no one +should hear, not to wake them, because when Lezer went to bed, it was +certainly one o'clock. There was a dispute of some sort at the Rabbi's. +You can imagine how early it was, because I didn't even want to wake +Soreh, otherwise she always gets up when I do (never mind, it won't hurt +her to learn from her mother!). And at half past seven, when I saw there +were no more peasants coming in to market, I went to see what was going +on indoors. I heard my man calling me to wake up: 'Sheine, Sheine, +Sheine!' and I go quietly and lean against the bed, and wait to hear +what will happen next. 'Look here!--There is no waking her!--Sheine! +It's getting-up time and past! Are you deaf or half-witted? What's come +to you this morning?' I was so afraid I should laugh. I gave a jump and +called out, O woe is me, why ever didn't you wake me sooner? Bandit! +It's already eight o'clock!" + +Her hearers go off into contented laughter, which grows clearer, softer, +more contented still. Each one tells her tale of how _she_ was wakened +by her husband, and one tells this joke: Once, when her husband had +called to rouse her (he also usually woke her _after_ market), she +answered that on that morning she did not intend to get up for market, +that _he_ might go for once instead. This apparently pleases them still +better, for their laughter renews itself, more spontaneous and hearty +even than before. Each makes a witty remark, each feels herself in merry +mood, and all is cheerfulness. + +They would wax a little more serious only when they came to talk of +their daughters. A woman would begin by trying to recall her daughter's +age, and beg a second one to help her remember when the girl was born, +so that she might not make a mistake in the calculation. And when it +came to one that had a daughter of sixteen, the mother fell into a brown +study; she felt herself in a very, very critical position, because when +a girl comes to that age, one ought soon to marry her. And there is +really nothing to prevent it: money enough will be forthcoming, only let +the right kind of suitor present himself, one, that is, who shall insist +on a well-dowered bride, because otherwise--what sort of a suitor do you +call that? She will have enough to live on, they will buy a shop for +her, she is quite capable of managing it--only let Heaven send a young +man of acceptable parentage, so that one's husband shall have no need to +blush with shame when he is asked about his son-in-law's family and +connections. + +And this is really what they used to do, for when their daughters were +sixteen, they gave them in marriage, and at twenty the daughters were +"old," much-experienced wives. They knew all about teething, +chicken-pox, measles, and more besides, even about croup. If a young +mother's child fell ill, she hastened to her bosom crony, who knew a lot +more than she, having been married one whole year or two sooner, and got +advice as to what should be done. + +The other would make close inquiry whether the round swellings about the +child's neck increased in size and wandered, that is, appeared at +different times and different places, in which case it was positively +nothing serious, but only the tonsils. But if they remained in one place +and grew larger, the mother must lose no time, but must run to the +doctor. + +Their daughters knew that they needed to lay by money, not only for a +dowry, but because a girl ought to have money of her own. They knew as +well as their mothers that a bridegroom would present himself and ask a +lot of money (the best sign of his being the right sort!), and they +prayed God for the same without ceasing. + +No sooner were they quit of household matters than they went over to the +discussion of their connections and alliances--it was the greatest +pleasure they had. + +The fact that their children, especially their daughters, were so +discreet that not one (to speak in a good hour and be silent in a bad!) +had as yet ever (far be it from the speaker to think of such a thing!) +given birth to a bastard, as was known to happen in other places--this +was the crowning point of their joy and exultation. + +It even made up to them for the other fact, that they never got a good +word from their husbands for their hard, unnatural toil. + +And as they chat together, throwing in the remark that "the apple never +falls far from the tree," that their daughters take after them in +everything, the very wrinkles vanish from their shrivelled faces, a +spring of refreshment and blessedness wells up in their hearts, they are +lifted above their cares, a feeling of relaxation comes over them, as +though a soothing balsam had penetrated their strained and weary limbs. + +Meantime the daughters have secrets among themselves. They know a +quantity of interesting things that have happened in their quarter, but +no one else gets to know of them; they are imparted more with the eyes +than with the lips, and all is quiet and confidential. + +And if the great calamity had not now befallen the Pidvorkes, had it not +stretched itself, spread its claws with such an evil might, had the +shame not been so deep and dreadful, all might have passed off quietly +as always. But the event was so extraordinary, so cruelly unique--such a +thing had not happened since girls were girls, and bridegrooms, +bridegrooms, in the Pidvorkes--that it inevitably became known to all. +Not (preserve us!) to the men--they know of nothing, and need to know of +nothing--only to the women. But how much can anyone keep to oneself? It +will rise to the surface, and lie like oil on the water. + +From early morning on the women have been hissing and steaming, bubbling +and boiling over. They are not thinking of Parnosseh; they have +forgotten all about Parnosseh; they are in such a state, they have even +forgotten about themselves. There is a whole crowd of them packed like +herrings, and all fire and flame. But the male passer-by hears nothing +of what they say, he only sees the troubled faces and the drooping +heads; they are ashamed to look into one another's eyes, as though they +themselves were responsible for the great affliction. An appalling +misfortune, an overwhelming sense of shame, a yellow-black spot on their +reputation weighs them to the ground. Uncleanness has forced itself into +their sanctuary and defiled it; and now they seek a remedy, and means to +save themselves, like one drowning; they want to heal the plague spot, +to cover it up, so that no one shall find it out. They stand and think, +and wrinkle the brows so used to anxiety; their thoughts evolve rapidly, +and yet no good result comes of it, no one sees a way of escape out of +the terrifying net in which the worst of all evil has entangled them. +Should a stranger happen to come upon them now, one who has heard of +them, but never seen them, he would receive a shock. The whole of +Pidvorkes looks quite different, the women, the streets, the very sun +shines differently, with pale and narrow beams, which, instead of +cheering, seem to burden the heart. + +The little grey-curled clouds with their ragged edges, which have +collected somewhere unbeknown, and race across the sky, look down upon +the women, and whisper among themselves. Even the old willows, for whom +the news is no novelty, for many more and more complicated mysteries +have come to their knowledge, even they look sad, while the swallows, by +the depressed and gloomy air with which they skim the water, plainly +express their opinion, which is no other than this: God is punishing the +Pidvorkes for _their_ great sin, what time they carried fire in their +beaks, long ago, to destroy the Temple. + +God bears long with people's iniquity, but he rewards in full at the +last. + +The peasants driving slowly to market, unmolested and unobstructed, +neither dragged aside nor laid forcible hold of, were singularly +disappointed. They began to think the Jews had left the place. + +And the women actually forgot for very trouble that it was market-day. +They stood with hands folded, and turned feverishly to every newcomer. +What does she say to it? Perhaps she can think of something to advise. + +No one answered; they could not speak; they had nothing to say; they +only felt that a great wrath had been poured out on them, heavy as lead, +that an evil spirit had made its way into their life, and was keeping +them in a perpetual state of terror; and that, were they now to hold +their peace, and not make an end, God Almighty only knows what might +come of it! No one felt certain that to-morrow or the day after the same +thunderbolt might not fall on another of them. + +Somebody made a movement in the crowd, and there was a sudden silence, +as though all were preparing to listen to a weak voice, hardly louder +than stillness itself. Their eyes widened, their faces were contracted +with annoyance and a consciousness of insult. Their hearts beat faster, +but without violence. Suddenly there was a shock, a thrill, and they +looked round with startled gaze, to see whence it came, and what was +happening. And they saw a woman forcing her way frantically through the +crowd, her hands working, her lips moving as in fever, her eyes flashing +fire, and her voice shaking as she cried: "Come on and see me settle +them! First I shall thrash _him_, and then I shall go for _her_! We must +make a cinder-heap of them; it's all we can do." + +She was a tall, bony woman, with broad shoulders, who had earned for +herself the nickname Cossack, by having, with her own hands, beaten off +three peasants who wanted to strangle her husband, he, they declared, +having sold them by false weight--it was the first time he had ever +tried to be of use to her. + +"But don't shout so, Breindel!" begged a woman's voice. + +"What do you mean by 'don't shout'! Am I going to hold my tongue? Never +you mind, I shall take no water into my mouth. I'll teach them, the +apostates, to desecrate the whole town!" + +"But don't shout so!" beg several more. + +Breindel takes no notice. She clenches her right fist, and, fighting the +air with it, she vociferates louder than ever: + +"What has happened, women? What are you frightened of? Look at them, if +they are not all a little afraid! That's what brings trouble. Don't let +us be frightened, and we shall spare ourselves in the future. We shall +not be in terror that to-morrow or the day after (they had best not live +to hear of it, sweet Father in Heaven!) another of us should have this +come upon her!" + +Breindel's last words made a great impression. The women started as +though someone had poured cold water over them without warning. A few +even began to come forward in support of Breindel's proposal. Soreh Leoh +said: She advised going, but only to him, the bridegroom, and telling +him not to give people occasion to laugh, and not to cause distress to +her parents, and to agree to the wedding's taking place to-day or +to-morrow, before anything happened, and to keep quiet. + +"I say, he shall not live to see it; he shall not be counted worthy to +have us come begging favors of him!" cried an angry voice. + +But hereupon rose that of a young woman from somewhere in the crowd, and +all the others began to look round, and no one knew who it was speaking. +At first the young voice shook, then it grew firmer and firmer, so that +one could hear clearly and distinctly what was said: + +"You might as well spare yourselves the trouble of talking about a +thrashing; it's all nonsense; besides, why add to her parents' grief by +going to them? Isn't it bad enough for them already? If we really want +to do something, the best would be to say nothing to anybody, not to get +excited, not to ask anybody's help, and let us make a collection out of +our own pockets. Never mind! God will repay us twice what we give. Let +us choose out two of us, to take him the money quietly, so that no one +shall know, because once a whisper of it gets abroad, it will be carried +over seven seas in no time; you know that walls have ears, and streets, +eyes." + +The women had been holding their breath and looking with pleasurable +pride at young Malkehle, married only two months ago and already so +clever! The great thick wall of dread and shame against which they had +beaten their heads had retreated before Malkehle's soft words; they felt +eased; the world grew lighter again. Every one felt envious in her heart +of hearts of her to whose apt and golden speech they had just listened. +Everyone regretted that such an excellent plan had not occurred to +herself. But they soon calmed down, for after all it was a sister who +had spoken, one of their own Pidvorkes. They had never thought that +Malkehle, though she had been considered clever as a girl, would take +part in their debate; and they began to work out a plan for getting +together the necessary money, only so quietly that not a cock should +crow. + +And now their perplexities began! Not one of them could give such a +great sum, and even if they all clubbed together, it would still be +impossible. They could manage one hundred, two hundred, three hundred +rubles, but the dowry was six hundred, and now he says, that unless +they give one thousand, he will break off the engagement. What, says he, +there will be a summons out against him? Very likely! He will just risk +it. The question went round: Who kept a store in a knotted handkerchief, +hidden from her husband? They each had such a store, but were all the +contents put together, the half of the sum would not be attained, not by +a long way. + +And again there arose a tempest, a great confusion of women's tongues. +Part of the crowd started with fiery eloquence to criticise their +husbands, the good-for-nothings, the slouching lazybones; they proved +that as their husbands did nothing to earn money, but spent all their +time "learning," there was no need to be afraid of them; and if once in +a way they wanted some for themselves, nobody had the right to say them +nay. Others said that the husbands were, after all, the elder, one must +and should ask their advice! They were wiser and knew best, and why +should they, the women (might the words not be reckoned as a sin!), be +wiser than the rest of the world put together? And others again cried +that there was no need that they should divorce their husbands because a +girl was with child, and the bridegroom demanded the dowry twice over. + +The noise increased, till there was no distinguishing one voice from +another, till one could not make out what her neighbor was saying: she +only knew that she also must shriek, scold, and speak her mind. And who +knows what would have come of it, if Breindel-Cossack, with her powerful +gab, had not begun to shout, that she and Malkehle had a good idea, +which would please everyone very much, and put an end to the whole +dispute. + +All became suddenly dumb; there was a tense silence, as at the first of +the two recitals of the Eighteen Benedictions; the women only cast +inquiring looks at Malkehle and Breindel, who both felt their cheeks +hot. Breindel, who, ever since the wise Malkehle had spoken such golden +words, had not left her side, now stepped forward, and her voice +trembled with emotion and pleasant excitement as she said: "Malkehle and +I think like this: that we ought to go to Chavvehle, she being so wise +and so well-educated, a doctor's wife, and tell her the whole story from +beginning to end, so that she may advise us, and if you are ashamed to +speak to her yourselves, you should leave it to us two, only on the +condition that you go with us. Don't be frightened, she is kind; she +will listen to us." + +A faint smile, glistening like diamond dust, shone on all faces; their +eyes brightened and their shoulders straightened, as though just +released from a heavy burden. They all knew Chavvehle for a good and +gracious woman, who was certain to give them some advice; she did many +such kindnesses without being asked; she had started the school, and she +taught their children for nothing; she always accompanied her husband on +his visits to the sick-room, and often left a coin of her own money +behind to buy a fowl for the invalid. It was even said that she had +written about them in the newspapers! She was very fond of them. When +she talked with them, her manner was simple, as though they were her +equals, and she would ask them all about everything, like any plain +Jewish housewife. And yet they were conscious of a great distance +between them and Chavveh. They would have liked Chavveh to hear nothing +of them but what was good, to stand justified in her eyes as (ten times +lehavdil) in those of a Christian. They could not have told why, but the +feeling was there. + +They are proud of Chavveh; it is an honor for them each and all (and who +are they that they should venture to pretend to it?) to possess such a +Chavveh, who was highly spoken of even by rich Gentiles. Hence this +embarrassed smile at the mention of her name; she would certainly +advise, but at the same time they avoided each other's look. The wise +Malkeh had the same feeling, but she was able to cheer the rest. Never +mind! It doesn't matter telling her. She is a Jewish daughter, too, and +will keep it to herself. These things happen behind the "high windows" +also. Whereupon they all breathed more freely, and went up the hill to +Chavveh. They went in serried ranks, like soldiers, shoulder to +shoulder, relief and satisfaction reflected in their faces. All who met +them made way for them, stood aside, and wondered what it meant. Some of +their own husbands even stood and looked at the marching women, but not +one dared to go up to them and ask what was doing. Their object grew +dearer to them at every step. A settled resolve and a deep sense of +goodwill to mankind urged them on. They all felt that they were going in +a good cause, and would thereby bar the road to all such occurrences in +the future. + +The way to Chavveh was long. She lived quite outside the Pidvorkes, and +they had to go through the whole market-place with the shops, which +stood close to one another, as though they held each other by the hand, +and then only through narrow lanes of old thatched peasant huts, with +shy little window-panes. But beside nearly every hut stood a couple of +acacia-trees, and the foam-white blossoms among the young green leaves +gave a refreshing perfume to the neighborhood. Emerging from the +streets, they proceeded towards a pretty hill planted with +pink-flowering quince-trees. A small, clear stream flowed below it to +the left, so deceptively clear that it reflected the hillside in all its +natural tints. You had to go quite close in order to make sure it was +only a delusion, when the stream met your gaze as seriously as though +there were no question of _it_ at all. + +On the top of the hill stood Chavveh's house, adorned like a bride, +covered with creepers and quinces, and with two large lamps under white +glass shades, upheld in the right hands of two statues carved in white +marble. The distance had not wearied them; they had walked and conversed +pleasantly by the way, each telling a story somewhat similar to the one +that had occasioned their present undertaking. + +"Do you know," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "mine tried to play +me a trick with the dowry, too? It was immediately before the ceremony, +and he insisted obstinately that unless a silver box and fifty rubles +were given to him in addition to what had been promised to him, he would +not go under the marriage canopy!" + +"Well, if it hadn't been Zorah, it would have been Chayyim Treitel," +observed some one, ironically. + +They all laughed, but rather weakly, just for the sake of laughing; not +one of them really wished to part from her husband, even in cases where +he disliked her, and they quarrelled. No indignity they suffered at +their husbands' hands could hurt them so deeply as a wish on his part to +live separately. After all they are man and wife. They quarrel and make +it up again. + +And when they spied Chavvehle's house in the distance, they all cried +out joyfully, with one accord: + +"There is Chavvehle's house!" Once more they forgot about themselves; +they were filled with enthusiasm for the common cause, and with a pain +that will lie forever at their heart should they not do all that sinful +man is able. + +The wise Malkehle's heart beat faster than anyone's. She had begun to +consider how she should speak to Chavvehle, and although apt, incisive +phrases came into her head, one after another, she felt that she would +never be able to come out with them in Chavvehle's presence; were it not +for the other women's being there, she would have felt at her ease. + +All of a sudden a voice exclaimed joyfully, "There we are at the house!" +All lifted their heads, and their eyes were gladdened by the sight of +the tall flowers arranged about a round table, in the shelter of a +widely-branching willow, on which there shone a silver samovar. In and +out of the still empty tea-glasses there stole beams of the sinking sun, +as it dropt lower and lower behind the now dark-blue hill. + +"What welcome guests!" Chavveh met them with a sweet smile, and her eyes +awoke answering love and confidence in the women's hearts. + +Not a glance, not a movement betrayed surprise on Chavvehle's part, any +more than if she had been expecting them everyone. + +They felt that she was behaving like any sage, and were filled with a +sense of guilt towards her. + +Chavvehle excused herself to one or two other guests who were present, +and led the women into her summer-parlor, for she had evidently +understood that what they had come to say was for her ears only. + +They wanted to explain at once, but they couldn't, and the two who of +all found it hardest to speak were the selected spokeswomen, +Breindel-Cossack and Malkehle the wise. Chavvehle herself tried to lead +them out of their embarrassment. + +"You evidently have something important to tell me," she said, "for +otherwise one does not get a sight of you." + +And now it seemed more difficult than ever, it seemed impossible ever to +tell the angelic Chavvehle of the bad action about which they had come. +They all wished silently that their children might turn out one-tenth as +good as she was, and their impulse was to take Chavvehle into their +arms, kiss her and hug her, and cry a long, long time on her shoulder; +and if she cried with them, it would be so comforting. + +Chavvehle was silent. Her great, wide-open blue eyes grew more and more +compassionate as she gazed at the faces of her sisters; it seemed as +though they were reading for themselves the sorrowful secret the women +had come to impart. + +And the more they were impressed with her tactful behavior, and the more +they felt the kindness of her gaze, the more annoyed they grew with +themselves, the more tongue-tied they became. The silence was so intense +as to be almost seen and felt. The women held their breath, and only +exchanged roundabout glances, to find out what was going on in each +other's mind; and they looked first of all at the two who had undertaken +to speak, while the latter, although they did not see this, felt as if +every one's gaze was fixed upon them, wondering why they were silent and +holding all hearts by a thread. + +Chavvehle raised her head, and spoke sweetly: + +"Well, dear sisters, tell me a little of what it is about. Do you want +my help in any matter? I should be so glad----" + +"Dear sisters" she called them, and lightning-like it flashed through +their hearts that Chavveh was, indeed, their sister. How could they feel +otherwise when they had it from Chavveh herself? Was she not one of +their own people? Had she not the same God? True, her speech was a +little strange to them, and she was not overpious, but how should God be +angry with such a Chavveh as this? If it must be, let him punish _them_ +for her sin; they would willingly suffer in her place. + +The sun had long set; the sky was grey, save for one red streak, and the +room had grown dark. Chavvehle rose to light the candles, and the women +started and wiped their tearful eyes, so that Chavveh should not remark +them. Chavveh saw the difficulty they had in opening their hearts to +her, and she began to speak to them of different things, offered them +refreshment according to their several tastes, and now Malkehle felt a +little more courageous, and managed to say: + +"No, good, kind Chavvehle, we are not hungry. We have come to consult +with you on a very important matter!" + +And then Breindel tried hard to speak in a soft voice, but it sounded +gruff and rasping: + +"First of all, Chavveh, we want you to speak to us in Yiddish, not in +Polish. We are all Jewish women, thank God, together!" + +Chavvehle, who had nodded her head during the whole of Breindel's +speech, made another motion of assent with her silken eyebrows, and +replied: + +"I will talk Yiddish to you with pleasure, if that is what you prefer." + +"The thing is this, Chavvehle," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "it +is a shame and a sorrow to tell, but when the thunderbolt has fallen, +one must speak. You know Rochel Esther Leoh's. She is engaged, and the +wedding was to have been in eight weeks--and now she, the +good-for-nothing, is with child--and he, the son of perdition, says now +that if he isn't given more than five hundred rubles, he won't take +her----" + +Chavvehle was deeply troubled by their words. She saw how great was +their distress, and found, to her regret, that she had little to say by +way of consolation. + +"I feel with you," she said, "in your pain. But do not be so dismayed. +It is certainly very bad news, but these things will happen, you are not +the first----" + +She wanted to say more, but did not know how to continue. + +"But what are we to do?" asked several voices at once. "That is what we +came to you for, dearie, for you to advise us. Are we to give him all +the money he asks, or shall they both know as much happiness as we know +what to do else? Or are we to hang a stone round our necks and drown +ourselves for shame? Give us some advice, dear, help us!" + +Then Chavvehle understood that it was not so much the women who were +speaking and imploring, as their stricken hearts, their deep shame and +grief, and it was with increased sympathy that she answered them: + +"What can I say to help you, dear sisters? You have certainly not +deserved this blow; you have enough to bear as it is--things ought to +have turned out quite differently; but now that the misfortune has +happened, one must be brave enough not to lose one's head, and not to +let such a thing happen again, so that it should be the first and last +time! But what exactly you should do, I cannot tell you, because I don't +know! Only if you should want my help or any money, I will give you +either with the greatest pleasure." + +They understood each other---- + +The women parted with Chavveh in great gladness, and turned towards home +conscious of a definite purpose. Now they all felt they knew just what +to do, and were sure it would prevent all further misfortune and +disgrace. + +They could have sung out for joy, embraced the hill, the stream, the +peasant huts, and kissed and fondled them all together. Mind you, they +had even now no definite plan of action, it was just Chavvehle's +sympathy that had made all the difference--feeling that Chavveh was +with them! Wrapped in the evening mist, they stepped vigorously and +cheerily homewards. + +Gradually the speed and the noise of their march increased, the air +throbbed, and at last a high, sharp voice rose above the rest, whereupon +they grew stiller, and the women listened. + +"I tell you what, we won't beat them. Only on Sabbath we must all come +together like one man, break into the house-of-study just before they +call up to the Reading of the Law, and not let them read till they have +sworn to agree to our sentence of excommunication! + +"She is right!" + +"Excommunicate him!" + +"Tear him in pieces!" + +"Let him be dressed in robe and prayer-scarf, and swear by the eight +black candles that he----" + +"Swear! Swear!" + +The noise was dreadful. No one was allowed to finish speaking. They were +all aflame with one fire of revenge, hate, and anger, and all alike +athirst for justice. Every new idea, every new suggestion was hastily +and hotly seized upon by all together, and there was a grinding of teeth +and a clenching of fists. Nature herself seemed affected by the tumult, +the clouds flew faster, the stars changed their places, the wind +whistled, the trees swayed hither and thither, the frogs croaked, there +was a great boiling up of the whole concern. + +"Women, women," cried one, "I propose that we go to the court of the +Shool, climb into the round millstones, and all shout together, so that +they may know what we have decided." + +"Right! Right! To the Shool!" cried a chorus of voices. + +A common feeling of triumph running through them, they took each other +friendly-wise by the hand, and made gaily for the court of the Shool. +When they got into the town, they fell on each other's necks, and kissed +each other with tears and joy. They knew their plan was the best and +most excellent that could be devised, and would protect them all from +further shame and trouble. + +The Pidvorkes shuddered to hear their tread. + +All the remaining inhabitants, big and little, men and women, gathered +in the court of the Shool, and stood with pale faces and beating hearts +to see what would happen. + +The eyes of the young bachelors rolled uneasily, the girls had their +faces on one another's shoulders, and sobbed. + +Breindel, agile as a cat, climbed on to the highest millstone, and +proclaimed in a voice of thunder: + +"Seeing that such and such a thing has happened, a great scandal such as +is not to be hid, and such as we do not wish to hide, all we women have +decided to excommunicate----" + +Such a tumult arose that for a minute or two Breindel could not be +heard, but it was not long before everyone knew who and what was meant. + +"We also demand that neither he nor his nearest friends shall be called +to the Reading of the Law; that people shall have nothing to do with +them till after the wedding!" + +"Nothing to do with them! Nothing to do with them!" shook the air. + +"That people shall not lend to them nor borrow of them, shall not come +within their four ells!" continued the voice from the millstone. + +"And _she_ shall be shut up till her time comes, so that no one shall +see her. Then we will take her to the burial-ground, and the child shall +be born in the burial-ground. The wedding shall take place by day, and +without musicians--" + +"Without musicians!" + +"Without musicians!" + +'Without musicians!" + +"Serve her right!" + +"She deserves worse!" + +A hundred voices were continually interrupting the speaker, and more +women were climbing onto the millstones, and shouting the same things. + +"On the wedding-day there will be great black candles burning throughout +the whole town, and when the bride is seated at the top of the +marriage-hall, with her hair flowing loose about her, all the girls +shall surround her, and the Badchen shall tell her, 'This is the way we +treat one who has not held to her Jewishness, and has blackened all our +faces----'" + +"Yes!" + +"Yes!" + +"So it is!" + +"The apostates!" + +The last words struck the hearers' hearts like poisoned arrows. A +deathly pallor, born of unrealized terror at the suggested idea, +overspread all their faces, their feelings were in a tumult of shame and +suffering. They thirsted and longed after their former life, the time +before the calamity disturbed their peace. Weary and wounded in spirit, +with startled looks, throbbing pulses, and dilated pupils, and with no +more than a faint hope that all might yet be well, they slowly broke the +stillness, and departed to their homes. + + + + +LÖB SCHAPIRO + + +Born, about 1880, in the Government of Kieff, Little Russia; came to +Chicago in 1906, and to New York for a short time in 1907-1908; now +(1912) in business in Switzerland; contributor to Die Zukunft, New York; +collected works, Novellen, 1 vol., Warsaw, 1910. + + + + +IF IT WAS A DREAM + + +Yes, it was a terrible dream! But when one is only nine years old, one +soon forgets, and Meyerl was nine a few weeks before it came to pass. + +Yes, and things had happened in the house every now and then to remind +one of it, but then Meyerl lived more out of doors than indoors, in the +wild streets of New York. Tartilov and New York--what a difference! New +York had supplanted Tartilov, effaced it from his memory. There remained +only a faint occasional recollection of that horrid dream. + +If it really _was_ a dream! + +It was this way: Meyerl dreamt that he was sitting in Cheder learning, +but more for show's sake than seriously, because during the Days of +Penitence, near the close of the session, the Rebbe grew milder, and +Cheder less hateful. And as he sat there and learnt, he heard a banging +of doors in the street, and through the window saw Jews running to and +fro, as if bereft of their senses, flinging themselves hither and +thither exactly like leaves in a gale, or as when a witch rises from the +ground in a column of dust, and whirls across the road so suddenly and +unexpectedly that it makes one's flesh creep. And at the sight of this +running up and down in the street, the Rebbe collapsed in his chair +white as death, his under lip trembling. + +Meyerl never saw him again. He was told later that the Rebbe had been +killed, but somehow the news gave him no pleasure, although the Rebbe +used to beat him; neither did it particularly grieve him. It probably +made no great impression on his mind. After all, what did it mean, +exactly? Killed? and the question slipped out of his head unanswered, +together with the Rebbe, who was gradually forgotten. + +And then the real horror began. They were two days hiding away in the +bath-house--he and some other little boys and a few older +people--without food, without drink, without Father and Mother. Meyerl +was not allowed to get out and go home, and once, when he screamed, they +nearly suffocated him, after which he sobbed and whimpered, unable to +stop crying all at once. Now and then he fell asleep, and when he woke +everything was just the same, and all through the terror and the misery +he seemed to hear only one word, Goyim, which came to have a very +definite and terrible meaning for him. Otherwise everything was in a +maze, and as far as seeing goes, he really saw nothing at all. + +Later, when they came out again, nobody troubled about him, or came to +see after him, and a stranger took him home. And neither his father nor +his mother had a word to say to him, any more than if he had just come +home from Cheder as on any other day. + +Everything in the house was broken, they had twisted his father's arm +and bruised his face. His mother lay on the bed, her fair hair tossed +about, and her eyes half-closed, her face pale and stained, and +something about her whole appearance so rumpled and sluttish--it +reminded one of a tumbled bedquilt. His father walked up and down the +room in silence, looking at no one, his bound arm in a white sling, and +when Meyerl, conscious of some invisible calamity, burst out crying, his +father only gave him a gloomy, irritated look, and continued to span the +room as before. + +In about three weeks' time they sailed for America. The sea was very +rough during the passage, and his mother lay the whole time in her +berth, and was very sick. Meyerl was quite fit, and his father did +nothing but pace the deck, even when it poured with rain, till they came +and ordered him down-stairs. + +Meyerl never knew exactly what happened, but once a Gentile on board the +ship passed a remark on his father, made fun of him, or something--and +his father drew himself up, and gave the other a look--nothing more than +a look! And the Gentile got such a fright that he began crossing +himself, and he spit out, and his lips moved rapidly. To tell the truth, +Meyerl was frightened himself by the contraction of his father's mouth, +the grind of his teeth, and by his eyes, which nearly started from his +head. Meyerl had never seen him look like that before, but soon his +father was once more pacing the deck, his head down, his wet collar +turned up, his hands in his sleeves, and his back slightly bent. + +When they arrived in New York City, Meyerl began to feel giddy, and it +was not long before the whole of Tartilov appeared to him like a dream. + +It was in the beginning of winter, and soon the snow fell, the fresh +white snow, and it was something like! Meyerl was now a "boy," he went +to "school," made snowballs, slid on the slides, built little fires in +the middle of the street, and nobody interfered. He went home to eat +and sleep, and spent what you may call his "life" in the street. + +In their room were cold, piercing draughts, which made it feel dreary +and dismal. Meyerl's father, a lean, large-boned man, with a dark, brown +face and black beard, had always been silent, and it was but seldom he +said so much as "Are you there, Tzippe? Do you hear me, Tzippe?" But now +his silence was frightening! The mother, on the other hand, used to be +full of life and spirits, skipping about the place, and it was +"Shloimeh!" here, and "Shloimeh!" there, and her tongue wagging merrily! +And suddenly there was an end of it all. The father only walked back and +forth over the room, and she turned to look after him like a child in +disgrace, and looked and looked as though forever wanting to say +something, and never daring to say it. There was something new in her +look, something dog-like! Yes, on my word, something like what there was +in the eyes of Mishke the dog with which Meyerl used to like playing +"over there," in that little town in dreamland. Sometimes Meyerl, waking +suddenly in the night, heard, or imagined he heard, his mother sobbing, +while his father lay in the other bed puffing at his cigar, but so hard, +it was frightening, because it made a little fire every time in the +dark, as though of itself, in the air, just over the place where his +father's black head must be lying. Then Meyerl's eyes would shut of +themselves, his brain was confused, and his mother and the glowing +sparks and the whole room sank away from him, and Meyerl dropped off to +sleep. + +Twice that winter his mother fell ill. The first time it lasted two +days, the second, four, and both times the illness was dangerous. Her +face glowed like an oven, her lower lip bled beneath her sharp white +teeth, and yet wild, terrifying groans betrayed what she was suffering, +and she was often violently sick, just as when they were on the sea. + +At those times she looked at her husband with eyes in which there was no +prayer. Mishke once ran a thorn deep into his paw, and he squealed and +growled angrily, and sucked his paw, as though he were trying to swallow +it, thorn and all, and the look in his eyes was the look of Meyerl's +mother in her pain. + +In those days his father, too, behaved differently, for, instead of +walking to and fro across the room, he ran, puffing incessantly at his +cigar, his brow like a thunder-cloud and occasional lightnings flashing +from his eyes. He never looked at his wife, and neither of them looked +at Meyerl, who then felt himself utterly wretched and forsaken. + +And--it is very odd, but--it was just on these occasions that Meyerl +felt himself drawn to his home. In the street things were as usual, but +at home it was like being in Shool during the Solemn Days at the blowing +of the ram's horn, when so many tall "fathers" stand with prayer-scarfs +over their heads, and hold their breath, and when out of the distance +there comes, unfolding over the heads of the people, the long, loud +blast of the Shofar. + +And both times, when his mother recovered, the shadow that lay on their +home had darkened, his father was gloomier than ever, and his mother, +when she looked at him, had a still more crushed and dog-like +expression, as though she were lying outside in the dust of the street. + +The snowfalls became rarer, then they ceased altogether, and there came +into the air a feeling of something new--what exactly, it would have +been hard for Meyerl to say. Anyhow it was something good, very good, +for everyone in the street was glad of it, one could see that by their +faces, which were more lightsome and gay. + +On the Eve of Passover the sky of home cleared a little too, street and +house joined hands through the windows, opened now for the first time +since winter set in, and this neighborly act of theirs cheered Meyerl's +heart. + +His parents made preparations for Passover, and poor little preparations +they were: there was no Matzes-baking with its merry to-do; a packet of +cold, stale Matzes was brought into the house; there was no pail of +beet-root soup in the corner, covered with a coarse cloth of unbleached +linen; no dusty china service was fetched from the attic, where it had +lain many years between one Passover and another; his father brought in +a dinner service from the street, one he had bought cheap, and of which +the pieces did not match. But the exhilaration of the festival made +itself felt for all that, and warmed their hearts. At home, in Tartilov, +it had happened once or twice that Meyerl had lain in his little bed +with open eyes, staring stock-still, with terror, into the silent +blackness of the night, and feeling as if he were the only living soul +in the whole world, that is, the whole house; and the sudden crow of a +cock would be enough on these occasions to send a warm current of relief +and security through his heart. + +His father's face looked a little more cheerful. In the daytime, while +he dusted the cups, his eyes had something pensive in them, but his lips +were set so that you thought: There, now, now they are going to smile! +The mother danced the Matzeh pancakes up and down in the kitchen, so +that they chattered and gurgled in the frying-pan. When a neighbor came +in to borrow a cooking pot, Meyerl happened to be standing beside his +mother. The neighbor got her pot, the women exchanged a few words about +the coming holiday, and then the neighbor said, "So we shall soon be +having a rejoicing at your house?" and with a wink and a smile she +pointed at his mother with her finger, whereupon Meyerl remarked for the +first time that her figure had grown round and full. But he had no time +just then to think it over, for there came a sound of broken china from +the next room, his mother stood like one knocked on the head, and his +father appeared in the door, and said: + +"Go!" + +His voice sent a quiver through the window-panes, as if a heavy wagon +were just crossing the bridge outside at a trot, the startled neighbor +turned, and whisked out of the house. + +Meyerl's parents looked ill at ease in their holiday garb, with the +faces of mourners. The whole ceremony of the Passover home service was +spoilt by an atmosphere of the last meal on the Eve of the Fast of the +Destruction of the Temple. And when Meyerl, with the indifferent voice +of one hired for the occasion, sang out the "Why is this night +different?" his heart shrank together; there was the same hush round +about him as there is in Shool when an orphan recites the first +"Sanctification" for his dead parents. + +His mother's lips moved, but gave forth no sound; from time to time she +wetted a finger with her tongue, and turned over leaf after leaf in her +service-book, and from time to time a large, bright tear fell, over her +beautiful but depressed face onto the book, or the white table-cloth, or +her dress. His father never looked at her. Did he see she was crying? +Meyerl wondered. Then, how strangely he was reciting the Haggadah! He +would chant a portion in long-drawn-out fashion, and suddenly his voice +would break, sometimes with a gurgle, as though a hand had seized him by +the throat and closed it. Then he would look silently at his book, or +his eye would wander round the room with a vacant stare. Then he would +start intoning again, and again his voice would break. + +They ate next to nothing, said grace to themselves in a whisper, after +which the father said: + +"Meyerl, open the door!" + +Not without fear, and the usual uncertainty as to the appearance of the +Prophet Elijah, whose goblet stood filled for him on the table, Meyerl +opened the door. + +"Pour out Thy wrath upon the Gentiles, who do not know Thee!" + +A slight shudder ran down between Meyerl's shoulders, for a strange, +quite unfamiliar voice had sounded through the room from one end to the +other, shot up against the ceiling, flung itself down again, and gone +flapping round the four walls, like a great, wild bird in a cage. Meyerl +hastily turned to look at his father, and felt the hair bristle on his +head with fright: straight and stiff as a screwed-up fiddle-string, +there stood beside the table a wild figure, in a snow-white robe, with a +dark beard, a broad, bony face, and a weird, black flame in the eyes. +The teeth were ground together, and the voice would go over into a +plaintive roar, like that of a hungry, bloodthirsty animal. His mother +sprang up from her seat, trembling in every limb, stared at him for a +few seconds, and then threw herself at his feet. Catching hold of the +edge of his robe with both hands, she broke into lamentation: + +"Shloimeh, Shloimeh, you'd better kill me! Shloimeh! kill me! oi, oi, +misfortune!" + +Meyerl felt as though a large hand with long fingernails had introduced +itself into his inside, and turned it upside down with one fell twist. +His mouth opened widely and crookedly, and a scream of childish terror +burst from his throat. Tartilov had suddenly leapt wildly into view, +affrighted Jews flew up and down the street like leaves in a storm, the +white-faced Rebbe sat in his chair, his under lip trembling, his mother +lay on her bed, looking all pulled about like a rumpled counterpane. +Meyerl saw all this as clearly and sharply as though he had it before +his eyes, he felt and knew that it was not all over, that it was only +just beginning, that the calamity, the great calamity, the real +calamity, was still to come, and might at any moment descend upon their +heads like a thunderbolt, only _what_ it was he did not know, or ask +himself, and a second time a scream of distraught and helpless terror +escaped his throat. + +A few neighbors, Italians, who were standing in the passage by the open +door, looked on in alarm, and whispered among themselves, and still the +wild curses filled the room, one minute loud and resonant, the next with +the spiteful gasping of a man struck to death. + +"Mighty God! Pour out Thy wrath on the peoples who have no God in their +hearts! Pour out Thy wrath upon the lands where Thy Name is unknown! 'He +has devoured, devoured my body, he has laid waste, laid waste my +house!'" + + "Thy wrath shall pursue them, + Pursue them--o'ertake them! + O'ertake them--destroy them, + From under Thy heavens!" + + + + +SHALOM ASCH + + +Born, 1881, in Kutno, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland; Jewish +education and Hasidic surroundings; began to write in 1900, earliest +works being in Hebrew; Sippurim was published in 1903, and A Städtel in +1904; wrote his first drama in 1905; distinguished for realism, love of +nature, and description of patriarchal Jewish life in the villages; +playwright; dramas: Gott von Nekomoh, Meschiach's Zeiten, etc.; +collected works, Schriften, Warsaw, 1908-1912 (in course of +publication). + + + + +A SIMPLE STORY + + +Feigele, like all young girls, is fond of dressing and decking herself +out. + +She has no time for these frivolities during the week, there is work in +plenty, no evil eye! and sewing to do; rent is high, and times are bad. +The father earns but little, and there is a deal wanting towards her +three hundred rubles dowry, beside which her mother trenches on it +occasionally, on Sabbath, when the family purse is empty. + +"There are as many marriageable young men as dogs, only every dog wants +a fat bone," comes into her head. + +She dislikes much thinking. She is a young girl and a pretty one. Of +course, one shouldn't be conceited, but when she stands in front of the +glass, she sees her bright face and rosy cheeks and the fall of her +black hair. But she soon forgets it all, as though she were afraid that +to rejoice in it might bring her ill-luck. + +Sabbath it is quite another thing--there is time and to spare, and on +Sabbath Feigele's toilet knows no end. + +The mother calls, "There, Feigele, that's enough! You will do very well +as you are." But what should old-fashioned women like her know about it? +Anything will do for them. Whether you've a hat and jacket on or not, +they're just as pleased. + +But a young girl like Feigele knows the difference. _He_ is sitting out +there on the bench, he, Eleazar, with a party of his mates, casting +furtive glances, which he thinks nobody sees, and nudging his neighbor, +"Look, fire and flame!" and she, Feigele, behaves as though unaware of +his presence, walks straight past, as coolly and unconcernedly as you +please, and as though Eleazar might look and look his eyes out after +her, take his own life, hang himself, for all _she_ cares. + +But, O Feigele, the vexation and the heartache when one fine day you +walk past, and he doesn't look at _you_, but at Malkeh, who has a new +hat and jacket that suit her about as well as a veil suits a dog--and +yet he looks at her, and you turn round again, and yet again, pretending +to look at something else (because it isn't proper), but you just glance +over your shoulder, and he is still looking after Malkeh, his whole face +shining with delight, and he nudges his mate, as to say, "Do you see?" O +Feigele, you need a heart of adamant, if it is not to burst in twain +with mortification! + +However, no sooner has Malkeh disappeared down a sidewalk, than he gets +up from the bench, dragging his mate along with him, and they follow, +arm-in-arm, follow Feigele like her shadow, to the end of the avenue, +where, catching her eye, he nods a "Good Sabbath!" Feigele answers with +a supercilious tip-tilt of her head, as much as to say, "It is all the +same to me, I'm sure; I'll just go down this other avenue for a change," +and, lo and behold, if she happens to look around, there is Eleazar, +too, and he follows, follows like a wearisome creditor. + +And then, O Feigele, such a lovely, blissful feeling comes over you. +Don't look, take no notice of him, walk ahead stiffly and firmly, with +your head high, let him follow and look at you. And he looks, and he +follows, he would follow you to the world's end, into the howling +desert. Ha, ha, how lovely it feels! + +But once, on a Sabbath evening, walking in the gardens with a girl +friend, and he following, Feigele turned aside down a dark path, and sat +down on a bench behind a bushy tree. + +He came and sat down, too, at the other end of the bench. + +Evening: the many branching trees overshadow and obscure, it grows dark, +they are screened and hidden from view. + +A breeze blows, lightly and pleasantly, and cools the air. + +They feel it good to be there, their hearts beat in the stillness. + +Who will say the first word? + +He coughs, ahem! to show that he is there, but she makes no sign, +implying that she neither knows who he is, nor what he wants, and has no +wish to learn. + +They are silent, they only hear their own beating hearts and the wind in +the leaves. + +"I beg your pardon, do you know what time it is?" + +"No, I don't," she replies stiffly, meaning, "I know quite well what you +are after, but don't be in such a hurry, you won't get anything the +sooner." + +The girl beside her gives her a nudge. "Did you hear that?" she +giggles. + +Feigele feels a little annoyed with her. Does the girl think _she_ is +the object? And she presently prepares to rise, but remains, as though +glued to the seat. + +"A beautiful night, isn't it?" + +"Yes, a beautiful evening." + +And so the conversation gets into swing, with a question from him and an +answer from her, on different subjects, first with fear and fluttering +of the heart, then they get closer one to another, and become more +confidential. When she goes home, he sees her to the door, they shake +hands and say, "Till we meet again!" + +And they meet a second and a third time, for young hearts attract each +other like a magnet. At first, of course, it is accidental, they meet by +chance in the company of two other people, a girl friend of hers and a +chum of his, and then, little by little, they come to feel that they +want to see each other alone, all to themselves, and they fix upon a +quiet time and place. + +And they met. + +They walked away together, outside the town, between the sky and the +fields, walked and talked, and again, conscious that the talk was an +artificial one, were even more gladly silent. Evening, and the last +sunbeams were gliding over the ears of corn on both sides of the way. +Then a breeze came along, and the ears swayed and whispered together, as +the two passed on between them down the long road. Night was gathering, +it grew continually darker, more melancholy, more delightful. + +"I have been wanting to know you for a long time, Feigele." + +"I know. You followed me like a shadow." + +They are silent. + +"What are you thinking about, Feigele?" + +"What are _you_ thinking about, Eleazar?" + +And they plunge once more into a deep converse about all sorts of +things, and there seems to be no reason why it should ever end. + +It grows darker and darker. + +They have come to walk closer together. + +Now he takes her hand, she gives a start, but his hand steals further +and further into hers. + +Suddenly, as dropt from the sky, he bends his face, and kisses her on +the cheek. + +A thrill goes through her, she takes her hand out of his and appears +rather cross, but he knows it is put on, and very soon she is all right +again, as if the incident were forgotten. + +An hour or two go by thus, and every day now they steal away and meet +outside the town. + +And Eleazar began to frequent her parents' house, the first time with an +excuse--he had some work for Feigele. And then, as people do, he came to +know when the work would be done, and Feigele behaved as though she had +never seen him before, as though not even knowing who he was, and +politely begged him to take a seat. + +So it came about by degrees that Eleazar was continually in and out of +the house, coming and going as he pleased and without stating any +pretext whatever. + +Feigele's parents knew him for a steady young man, he was a skilled +artisan earning a good wage, and they knew quite well why a young man +comes to the home of a young girl, but they feigned ignorance, thinking +to themselves, "Let the children get to know each other better, there +will be time enough to talk it over afterwards." + +Evening: a small room, shadows moving on the walls, a new table on which +burns a large, bright lamp, and sitting beside it Feigele sewing and +Eleazar reading aloud a novel by Shomer. + +Father and mother, tired out with a whole day's work, sleep on their +beds behind the curtain, which shuts off half the room. + +And so they sit, both of them, only sometimes Eleazar laughs aloud, +takes her by the hand, and exclaims with a smile, "Feigele!" + +"What do you want, silly?" + +"Nothing at all, nothing at all." + +And she sews on, thinking, "I have got you fast enough, but don't +imagine you are taking somebody from the street, just as she is; there +are still eighty rubles wanting to make three hundred in the bank." + +And she shows him her wedding outfit, the shifts and the bedclothes, of +which half lie waiting in the drawers. + + * * * * * + +They drew closer one to another, they became more and more intimate, so +that all looked upon them as engaged, and expected the marriage contract +to be drawn up any day. Feigele's mother was jubilant at her daughter's +good fortune, at the prospect of such a son-in-law, such a golden +son-in-law! + +Reb Yainkel, her father, was an elderly man, a worn-out peddler, bent +sideways with the bag of junk continually on his shoulder. + +Now he, too, has a little bit of pleasure, a taste of joy, for which God +be praised! + +Everyone rejoices, Feigele most of all, her cheeks look rosier and +fresher, her eyes darker and brighter. + +She sits at her machine and sews, and the whole room rings with her +voice: + + "Un was ich hob' gewollt, hob' ich ausgeführt, + Soll ich azoi leben! + Ich hob' gewollt a shenem Choson, + Hot' mir Gott gegeben." + +In the evening comes Eleazar. + +"Well, what are you doing?" + +"What should I be doing? Wait, I'll show you something." + +"What sort of thing?" + +She rises from her place, goes to the chest that stands in the stove +corner, takes something out of it, and hides it under her apron. + +"Whatever have you got there?" he laughs. + +"Why are you in such a hurry to know?" she asks, and sits down beside +him, brings from under her apron a picture in fine woolwork, Adam and +Eve, and shows it him, saying: + +"There, now you see! It was worked by a girl I know--for me, for us. I +shall hang it up in our room, opposite the bed." + +"Yours or mine?" + +"You wait, Eleazar! You will see the house I shall arrange for you--a +paradise, I tell you, just a little paradise! Everything in it will have +to shine, so that it will be a pleasure to step inside." + +"And every evening when work is done, we two shall sit together, side by +side, just as we are doing now," and he puts an arm around her. + +"And you will tell me everything, all about everything," she says, +laying a hand on his shoulder, while with the other she takes hold of +his chin, and looks into his eyes. + +They feel so happy, so light at heart. + +Everything in the house has taken on an air of kindliness, there is a +soft, attractive gloss on every object in the room, on the walls and the +table, the familiar things make signs to her, and speak to her as friend +to friend. + +The two are silent, lost in their own thoughts. + +"Look," she says to him, and takes her bank-book out of the chest, "two +hundred and forty rubles already. I shall make it up to three hundred, +and then you won't have to say, 'I took you just as you were.'" + +"Go along with you, you are very unjust, and I'm cross with you, +Feigele." + +"Why? Because I tell you the truth to your face?" she asks, looking into +his face and laughing. + +He turns his head away, pretending to be offended. + +"You little silly, are you feeling hurt? I was only joking, can't you +see?" + +So it goes on, till the old mother's face peeps out from behind the +curtain, warning them that it is time to go to rest, when the young +couple bid each other good-night. + + * * * * * + +Reb Yainkel, Feigele's father, fell ill. + +It was in the beginning of winter, and there was war between winter and +summer: the former sent a snowfall, the latter a burst of sun. The snow +turned to mud, and between times it poured with rain by the bucketful. + +This sort of weather made the old man ill: he became weak in the legs, +and took to his bed. + +There was no money for food, and still less for firing, and Feigele had +to lend for the time being. + +The old man lay abed and coughed, his pale, shrivelled face reddened, +the teeth showed between the drawn lips, and the blue veins stood out on +his temples. + +They sent for the doctor, who prescribed a remedy. + +The mother wished to pawn their last pillow, but Feigele protested, and +gave up part of her wages, and when this was not enough, she pawned her +jacket--anything sooner than touch the dowry. + +And he, Eleazar, came every evening, and they sat together beside the +well-known table in the lamplight. + +"Why are you so sad, Feigele?" + +"How can you expect me to be cheerful, with father so ill?" + +"God will help, Feigele, and he will get better." + +"It's four weeks since I put a farthing into the savings-bank." + +"What do you want to save for?" + +"What do I want to save for?" she asked with a startled look, as though +something had frightened her. "Are you going to tell me that you will +take me without a dowry?" + +"What do you mean by 'without a dowry'? You are worth all the money in +the world to me, worth my whole life. What do I want with your money? +See here, my five fingers, they can earn all we need. I have two +hundred rubles in the bank, saved from my earnings. What do I want with +more?" + +They are silent for a moment, with downcast eyes. "And your mother?" she +asks quietly. + +"Will you please tell me, are you marrying my mother or me? And what +concern is she of yours?" + +Feigele is silent. + +"I tell you again, I'll take you _just as you are_--and you'll take me +the same, will you?" + +She puts the corner of her apron to her eyes, and cries quietly to +herself. + +There is stillness around. The lamp sheds its brightness over the little +room, and casts their shadows onto the walls. + +The heavy sleeping of the old people is audible behind the curtain. + +And her head lies on his shoulder, and her thick black hair hides his +face. + +"How kind you are, Eleazar," she whispers through her tears. + +And she opens her whole heart to him, tells him how it is with them now, +how bad things are, they have pawned everything, and there is nothing +left for to-morrow, nothing but the dowry! + +He clasps her lovingly, and dries her cheeks with her apron end, saying: +"Don't cry, Feigele, don't cry. It will all come right. And to-morrow, +mind, you are to go to the postoffice, and take a little of the dowry, +as much as you need, until your father, God helping, is well again, and +able to earn something, and then...." + +"And then ..." she echoes in a whisper. + +"And then it will all come right," and his eyes flash into hers. "Just +as you are ..." he whispers. + +And she looks at him, and a smile crosses her face. + +She feels so happy, so happy. + + * * * * * + +Next morning she went to the postoffice for the first time with her +bank-book, took out a few rubles, and gave them to her mother. + +The mother sighed heavily, and took on a grieved expression; she +frowned, and pulled her head-kerchief down over her eyes. + +Old Reb Yainkel lying in bed turned his face to the wall. + +The old man knew where the money came from, he knew how his only child +had toiled for those few rubles. Other fathers gave money to their +children, and he took it-- + +It seemed to him as though he were plundering the two young people. He +had not long to live, and he was robbing them before he died. + +As he thought on this, his eyes glazed, the veins on his temple swelled, +and his face became suffused with blood. + +His head is buried in the pillow, and turns to the wall, he lies and +thinks these thoughts. + +He knows that he is in the way of the children's happiness, and he prays +that he may die. + +And she, Feigele, would like to come into a fortune all at once, to have +a lot of money, to be as rich as any great lady. + +And then suppose she had a thousand rubles now, this minute, and he came +in: "There, take the whole of it, see if I love you! There, take it, and +then you needn't say you love me for nothing, just as I am." + +They sit beside the father's bed, she and her Eleazar. + +Her heart overflows with content, she feels happier than she ever felt +before, there are even tears of joy on her cheeks. + +She sits and cries, hiding her face with her apron. + +He takes her caressingly by the hands, repeating in his kind, sweet +voice, "Feigele, stop crying, Feigele, please!" + +The father lies turned with his face to the wall, and the beating of his +heart is heard in the stillness. + +They sit, and she feels confidence in Eleazar, she feels that she can +rely upon him. + +She sits and drinks in his words, she feels him rolling the heavy stones +from off her heart. + +The old father has turned round and looked at them, and a sweet smile +steals over his face, as though he would say, "Have no fear, children, I +agree with you, I agree with all my heart." + +And Feigele feels so happy, so happy.... + + * * * * * + +The father is still lying ill, and Feigele takes out one ruble after +another, one five-ruble-piece after another. + +The old man lies and prays and muses, and looks at the children, and +holds his peace. + +His face gets paler and more wrinkled, he grows weaker, he feels his +strength ebbing away. + +Feigele goes on taking money out of the savings-bank, the stamps in her +book grow less and less, she knows that soon there will be nothing left. + +Old Reb Yainkel wishes in secret that he did not require so much, that +he might cease to hamper other people! + +He spits blood-drops, and his strength goes on diminishing, and so do +the stamps in Feigele's book. The day he died saw the last farthing of +Feigele's dowry disappear after the others. + + * * * * * + +Feigele has resumed her seat by the bright lamp, and sews and sews till +far into the night, and with every seam that she sews, something is +added to the credit of her new account. + +This time the dowry must be a larger one, because for every stamp that +is added to the account-book there is a new grey hair on Feigele's black +head. + + + + +A JEWISH CHILD + + +The mother came out of the bride's chamber, and cast a piercing look at +her husband, who was sitting beside a finished meal, and was making +pellets of bread crumbs previous to saying grace. + +"You go and talk to her! I haven't a bit of strength left!" + +"So, Rochel-Leoh has brought up children, has she, and can't manage +them! Why! People will be pointing at you and laughing--a ruin to your +years!" + +"To my years?! A ruin to _yours_! _My_ children, are they? Are they not +yours, too? Couldn't you stay at home sometimes to care for them and +help me to bring them up, instead of trapesing round--the black year +knows where and with whom?" + +"Rochel, Rochel, what has possessed you to start a quarrel with me now? +The bridegroom's family will be arriving directly." + +"And what do you expect me to do, Moishehle, eh?! For God's sake! Go in +to her, we shall be made a laughing-stock." + +The man rose from the table, and went into the next room to his +daughter. The mother followed. + +On the little sofa that stood by the window sat a girl about eighteen, +her face hidden in her hands, her arms covered by her loose, thick, +black hair. She was evidently crying, for her bosom rose and fell like a +stormy sea. On the bed opposite lay the white silk wedding-dress, the +Chuppeh-Kleid, with the black, silk Shool-Kleid, and the black stuff +morning-dress, which the tailor who had undertaken the outfit had +brought not long ago. By the door stood a woman with a black scarf round +her head and holding boxes with wigs. + +"Channehle! You are never going to do me this dishonor? to make me the +talk of the town?" exclaimed the father. The bride was silent. + +"Look at me, daughter of Moisheh Groiss! It's all very well for Genendel +Freindel's daughter to wear a wig, but not for the daughter of Moisheh +Groiss? Is that it?" + +"And yet Genendel Freindel might very well think more of herself than +you: she is more educated than you are, and has a larger dowry," put in +the mother. + +The bride made no reply. + +"Daughter, think how much blood and treasure it has cost to help us to a +bit of pleasure, and now you want to spoil it for us? Remember, for +God's sake, what you are doing with yourself! We shall be +excommunicated, the young man will run away home on foot!" + +"Don't be foolish," said the mother, took a wig out of a box from the +woman by the door, and approached her daughter. "Let us try on the wig, +the hair is just the color of yours," and she laid the strange hair on +the girl's head. + +The girl felt the weight, put up her fingers to her head, met among her +own soft, cool, living locks, the strange, dead hair of the wig, stiff +and cold, and it flashed through her, Who knows where the head to which +this hair belonged is now? A shuddering enveloped her, and as though +she had come in contact with something unclean, she snatched off the +wig, threw in onto the floor and hastily left the room. + +Father and mother stood and looked at each other in dismay. + + * * * * * + +The day after the marriage ceremony, the bridegroom's mother rose early, +and, bearing large scissors, and the wig and a hood which she had +brought from her home as a present for the bride, she went to dress the +latter for the "breakfast." + +But the groom's mother remained outside the room, because the bride had +locked herself in, and would open her door to no one. + +The groom's mother ran calling aloud for help to her husband, who, +together with a dozen uncles and brothers-in-law, was still sleeping +soundly after the evening's festivity. She then sought out the +bridegroom, an eighteen-year-old boy with his mother's milk still on his +lips, who, in a silk caftan and a fur cap, was moving about the room in +bewildered fashion, his eyes on the ground, ashamed to look anyone in +the face. In the end she fell back on the mother of the bride, and these +two went in to her together, having forced open the door between them. + +"Why did you lock yourself in, dear daughter. There is no need to be +ashamed." + +"Marriage is a Jewish institution!" said the groom's mother, and kissed +her future daughter-in-law on both cheeks. + +The girl made no reply. + +"Your mother-in-law has brought you a wig and a hood for the procession +to the Shool," said her own mother. + +The band had already struck up the "Good Morning" in the next room. + +"Come now, Kallehshi, Kalleh-leben, the guests are beginning to +assemble." + +The groom's mother took hold of the plaits in order to loosen them. + +The bride bent her head away from her, and fell on her own mother's +neck. + +"I can't, Mame-leben! My heart won't let me, Mame-kron!" + +She held her hair with both hands, to protect it from the other's +scissors. + +"For God's sake, my daughter? my life," begged the mother. + +"In the other world you will be plunged for this into rivers of fire. +The apostate who wears her own hair after marriage will have her locks +torn out with red hot pincers," said the other with the scissors. + +A cold shiver went through the girl at these words. + +"Mother-life, mother-crown!" she pleaded. + +Her hands sought her hair, and the black silky tresses fell through them +in waves. Her hair, the hair which had grown with her growth, and lived +with her life, was to be cut off, and she was never, never to have it +again--she was to wear strange hair, hair that had grown on another +person's head, and no one knows whether that other person was alive or +lying in the earth this long time, and whether she might not come any +night to one's bedside, and whine in a dead voice: + +"Give me back my hair, give me back my hair!" + +A frost seized the girl to the marrow, she shivered and shook. + +Then she heard the squeak of scissors over her head, tore herself out of +her mother's arms, made one snatch at the scissors, flung them across +the room, and said in a scarcely human voice: + +"My own hair! May God Himself punish me!" + +That day the bridegroom's mother took herself off home again, together +with the sweet-cakes and the geese which she had brought for the wedding +breakfast for her own guests. She wanted to take the bridegroom as well, +but the bride's mother said: "I will not give him back to you! He +belongs to me already!" + +The following Sabbath they led the bride in procession to the Shool +wearing her own hair in the face of all the town, covered only by a +large hood. + +But may all the names she was called by the way find their only echo in +some uninhabited wilderness. + + * * * * * + +A summer evening, a few weeks after the wedding: The young man had just +returned from the Stübel, and went to his room. The wife was already +asleep, and the soft light of the lamp fell on her pale face, showing +here and there among the wealth of silky-black hair that bathed it. Her +slender arms were flung round her head, as though she feared that +someone might come by night to shear them off while she slept. He had +come home excited and irritable: this was the fourth week of his married +life, and they had not yet called him up to the Reading of the Law, the +Chassidim pursued him, and to-day Chayyim Moisheh had blamed him in the +presence of the whole congregation, and had shamed him, because _she_, +his wife, went about in her own hair. "You're no better than a clay +image," Reb Chayyim Moisheh had told him. "What do you mean by a woman's +saying she won't? It is written: 'And he shall rule over thee.'" + +And he had come home intending to go to her and say: "Woman, it is a +precept in the Torah! If you persist in wearing your own hair, I may +divorce you without returning the dowry," after which he would pack up +his things and go home. But when he saw his little wife asleep in bed, +and her pale face peeping out of the glory of her hair, he felt a great +pity for her. He went up to the bed, and stood a long while looking at +her, after which he called softly: + +"Channehle ... Channehle ... Channehle...." + +She opened her eyes with a frightened start, and looked round in sleepy +wonder: + +"Nosson, did you call? What do you want? + +"Nothing, your cap has slipped off," he said, lifting up the white +nightcap, which had fallen from her head. + +She flung it on again, and wanted to turn towards the wall. + +"Channehle, Channehle, I want to talk to you." + +The words went to her heart. The whole time since their marriage he had, +so to say, not spoken to her. During the day she saw nothing of him, for +he spent it in the house-of-study or in the Stübel. When he came home to +dinner, he sat down to the table in silence. When he wanted anything, he +asked for it speaking into the air, and when really obliged to exchange +a word with her, he did so with his eyes fixed on the ground, too shy to +look her in the face. And now he said he wanted to talk to her, and in +such a gentle voice, and they two alone together in their room! + +"What do you want to say to me?" she asked softly. + +"Channehle," he began, "please, don't make a fool of me, and don't make +a fool of yourself in people's eyes. Has not God decreed that we should +belong together? You are my wife and I am your husband, and is it +proper, and what does it look like, a married woman wearing her own +hair?" + +Sleep still half dimmed her eyes, and had altogether clouded her thought +and will. She felt helpless, and her head fell lightly towards his +breast. + +"Child," he went on still more gently, "I know you are not so depraved +as they say. I know you are a pious Jewish daughter, and His blessed +Name will help us, and we shall have pious Jewish children. Put away +this nonsense! Why should the whole world be talking about you? Are we +not man and wife? Is not your shame mine?" + +It seemed to her as though _someone_, at once very far away and very +near, had come and was talking to her. Nobody had ever yet spoken to her +so gently and confidingly. And he was her husband, with whom she would +live so long, so long, and there would be children, and she would look +after the house! + +She leant her head lightly against him. + +"I know you are very sorry to lose your hair, the ornament of your +girlhood, I saw you with it when I was a guest in your home. I know +that God gave you grace and loveliness, I know. It cuts me to the heart +that your hair must be shorn off, but what is to be done? It is a rule, +a law of our religion, and after all we are Jews. We might even, God +forbid, have a child conceived to us in sin, may Heaven watch over and +defend us." + +She said nothing, but remained resting lightly in his arm, and his face +lay in the stream of her silky-black hair with its cool odor. In that +hair dwelt a soul, and he was conscious of it. He looked at her long and +earnestly, and in his look was a prayer, a pleading with her for her own +happiness, for her happiness and his. + +"Shall I?" ... he asked, more with his eyes than with his lips. + +She said nothing, she only bent her head over his lap. + +He went quickly to the drawer, and took out a pair of scissors. + +She laid her head in his lap, and gave her hair as a ransom for their +happiness, still half-asleep and dreaming. The scissors squeaked over +her head, shearing off one lock after the other, and Channehle lay and +dreamt through the night. + +On waking next morning, she threw a look into the glass which hung +opposite the bed. A shock went through her, she thought she had gone +mad, and was in the asylum! On the table beside her lay her shorn hair, +dead! + +She hid her face in her hands, and the little room was filled with the +sound of weeping! + + + + +A SCHOLAR'S MOTHER + + +The market lies foursquare, surrounded on every side by low, whitewashed +little houses. From the chimney of the one-storied house opposite the +well and inhabited by the baker, issues thick smoke, which spreads low +over the market-place. Beneath the smoke is a flying to and fro of white +pigeons, and a tall boy standing outside the baker's door is whistling +to them. + +Equally opposite the well are stalls, doors laid across two chairs and +covered with fruit and vegetables, and around them women, with +head-kerchiefs gathered round their weary, sunburnt faces in the hottest +weather, stand and quarrel over each other's wares. + +"It's certainly worth my while to stand quarrelling with _you_! A tramp +like you keeping a stall!" + +Yente, a woman about forty, whose wide lips have just uttered the above, +wears a large, dirty apron, and her broad, red face, with the composed +glance of the eyes under the kerchief, gives support to her words. + +"Do you suppose you have got the Almighty by the beard? He is mine as +well as yours!" answers Taube, pulling her kerchief lower about her +ears, and angrily stroking down her hair. + +A new customer approached Yente's stall, and Taube, standing by idle, +passed the time in vituperations. + +"What do I want with the money of a fine lady like you? You'll die like +the rest of us, and not a dog will say Kaddish for you," she shrieked, +and came to a sudden stop, for Taube had intended to bring up the +subject of her own son Yitzchokel, when she remembered that it is +against good manners to praise one's own. + +Yente, measuring out a quarter of pears to her customer, made answer: + +"Well, if you were a little superior to what you are, your husband +wouldn't have died, and your child wouldn't have to be ashamed of you, +as we all know he is." + +Whereon Taube flew into a rage, and shouted: + +"Hussy! The idea of my son being ashamed of me! May you be a sacrifice +for his littlest finger-nail, for you're not worthy to mention his +name!" + +She was about to burst out weeping at the accusation of having been the +cause of her husband's death and of causing her son to be ashamed of +her, but she kept back her tears with all her might in order not to give +pleasure to Yente. + +The sun was dropping lower behind the other end of the little town, Jews +were hurrying across the market-place to Evening Prayer in the +house-of-study street, and the Cheder-boys, just let out, began to +gather round the well. + +Taube collected her few little baskets into her arms (the door and the +chairs she left in the market-place; nobody would steal them), and with +two or three parting curses to the rude Yente, she quietly quitted the +scene. + +Walking home with her armful of baskets, she thought of her son +Yitzchokel. + +Yente's stinging remarks pursued her. It was not Yente's saying that she +had caused her husband's death that she minded, for everyone knew how +hard she had worked during his illness, it was her saying that +Yitzchokel was ashamed of her, that she felt in her "ribs." It occurred +to her that when he came home for the night, he never would touch +anything in her house. + +And thinking this over, she started once more abusing Yente. + +"Let her not live to see such a thing, Lord of the World, the One +Father!" + +It seemed to her that this fancy of hers, that Yitzchokel was ashamed of +her, was all Yente's fault, it was all her doing, the witch! + +"My child, my Yitzchokel, what business is he of yours?" and the cry +escaped her: + +"Lord of the World, take up my quarrel, Thou art a Father to the +orphaned, Thou shouldst not forgive her this!" + +"Who is that? Whom are you scolding so, Taube?" called out Necheh, the +rich man's wife, standing in the door of her shop, and overhearing +Taube, as she scolded to herself on the walk home. + +"Who should it be, housemistress, who but the hussy, the abortion, the +witch," answered Taube, pointing with one finger towards the +market-place, and, without so much as lifting her head to look at the +person speaking to her, she went on her way. + +She remembered, as she walked, how, that morning, when she went into +Necheh's kitchen with a fowl, she heard her Yitzchokel's voice in the +other room disputing with Necheh's boys over the Talmud. She knew that +on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his "day" at Necheh's table, and she had +taken the fowl there that day on purpose, so that her Yitzchokel should +have a good plate of soup, for her poor child was but weakly. + +When she heard her son's voice, she had been about to leave the kitchen, +and yet she had stayed. Her Yitzchokel disputing with Necheh's children? +What did they know as compared with him? Did they come up to his level? +"He will be ashamed of me," she thought with a start, "when he finds me +with a chicken in my hand. So his mother is a market-woman, they will +say, there's a fine partner for you!" But she had not left the kitchen. +A child who had never cost a farthing, and she should like to know how +much Necheh's children cost their parents! If she had all the money that +Yitzchokel ought to have cost, the money that ought to have been spent +on him, she would be a rich woman too, and she stood and listened to his +voice. + +"Oi, _he_ should have lived to see Yitzchokel, it would have made him +well." Soon the door opened, Necheh's boys appeared, and her Yitzchokel +with them. His cheeks flamed. + +"Good morning!" he said feebly, and was out at the door in no time. She +knew that she had caused him vexation, that he was ashamed of her before +his companions. + +And she asked herself: Her child, her Yitzchokel, who had sucked her +milk, what had Necheh to do with him? And she had poured out her +bitterness of heart upon Yente's head for this also, that her son had +cost her parents nothing, and was yet a better scholar than Necheh's +children, and once more she exclaimed: + +"Lord of the World! Avenge my quarrel, pay her out for it, let her not +live to see another day!" + +Passers-by, seeing a woman walking and scolding aloud, laughed. + +Night came on, the little town was darkened. + +Taube reached home with her armful of baskets, dragged herself up the +steps, and opened the door. + +"Mame, it's Ma-a-me!" came voices from within. + +The house was full of smoke, the children clustered round her in the +middle of the room, and never ceased calling out Mame! One child's voice +was tearful: "Where have you been all day?" another's more cheerful: +"How nice it is to have you back!" and all the voices mingled together +into one. + +"Be quiet! You don't give me time to draw my breath!" cried the mother, +laying down the baskets. + +She went to the fireplace, looked about for something, and presently the +house was illumined by a smoky lamp. + +The feeble shimmer lighted only the part round the hearth, where Taube +was kindling two pieces of stick--an old dusty sewing-machine beside a +bed, sign of a departed tailor, and a single bed opposite the lamp, +strewn with straw, on which lay various fruits, the odor of which filled +the room. The rest of the apartment with the remaining beds lay in +shadow. + +It is a year and a half since her husband, Lezer the tailor, died. While +he was still alive, but when his cough had increased, and he could no +longer provide for his family, Taube had started earning something on +her own account, and the worse the cough, the harder she had to toil, so +that by the time she became a widow, she was already used to supporting +her whole family. + +The eldest boy, Yitzchokel, had been the one consolation of Lezer the +tailor's cheerless existence, and Lezer was comforted on his death-bed +to think he should leave a good Kaddish behind him. + +When he died, the householders had pity on the desolate widow, collected +a few rubles, so that she might buy something to traffic with, and, +seeing that Yitzchokel was a promising boy, they placed him in the +house-of-study, arranged for him to have his daily meals in the houses +of the rich, and bade him pass his time over the Talmud. + +Taube, when she saw her Yitzchokel taking his meals with the rich, felt +satisfied. A weakly boy, what could _she_ give him to eat? There, at the +rich man's table, he had the best of everything, but it grieved her that +he should eat in strange, rich houses--she herself did not know whether +she had received a kindness or the reverse, when he was taken off her +hands. + +One day, sitting at her stall, she spied her Yitzchokel emerge from the +Shool-Gass with his Tefillin-bag under his arm, and go straight into the +house of Reb Zindel the rich, to breakfast, and a pang went through her +heart. She was still on terms, then, with Yente, because immediately +after the death of her husband everyone had been kind to her, and she +said: + +"Believe me, Yente, I don't know myself what it is. What right have I to +complain of the householders? They have been very good to me and to my +child, made provision for him in rich houses, treated him as if he were +_no_ market-woman's son, but the child of gentlefolk, and yet every day +when I give the other children their dinner, I forget, and lay a plate +for my Yitzchokel too, and when I remember that he has his meals at +other people's hands, I begin to cry." + +"Go along with you for a foolish woman!" answered Yente. "How would he +turn out if he were left to you? What is a poor person to give a child +to eat, when you come to think of it?" + +"You are right, Yente," Taube replied, "but when I portion out the +dinner for the others, it cuts me to the heart." + +And now, as she sat by the hearth cooking the children's supper, the +same feeling came over her, that they had stolen her Yitzchokel away. + +When the children had eaten and gone to bed, she stood the lamp on the +table, and began mending a shirt for Yitzchokel. + +Presently the door opened, and he, Yitzchokel, came in. + +Yitzchokel was about fourteen, tall and thin, his pale face telling out +sharply against his black cloak beneath his black cap. + +"Good evening!" he said in a low tone. + +The mother gave up her place to him, feeling that she owed him respect, +without knowing exactly why, and it was borne in upon her that she and +her poverty together were a misfortune for Yitzchokel. + +He took a book out of the case, sat down, and opened it. + +The mother gave the lamp a screw, wiped the globe with her apron, and +pushed the lamp nearer to him. + +"Will you have a glass of tea, Yitzchokel?" she asked softly, wishful to +serve him. + +"No, I have just had some." + +"Or an apple?" + +He was silent. + +The mother cleaned a plate, laid two apples on it, and a knife, and +placed it on the table beside him. + +He peeled one of the apples as elegantly as a grown-up man, repeated the +blessing aloud, and ate. + +When Taube had seen Yitzchokel eat an apple, she felt more like his +mother, and drew a little nearer to him. + +And Yitzchokel, as he slowly peeled the second apple, began to talk more +amiably: + +"To-day I talked with the Dayan about going somewhere else. In the +house-of-study here, there is nothing to do, nobody to study with, +nobody to ask how and where, and in which book, and he advises me to go +to the Academy at Makove; he will give me a letter to Reb Chayyim, the +headmaster, and ask him to befriend me." + +When Taube heard that her son was about to leave her, she experienced a +great shock, but the words, Dayan, Rosh-Yeshiveh, mekarev-sein, and +other high-sounding bits of Hebrew, which she did not understand, +overawed her, and she felt she must control herself. Besides, the words +held some comfort for her: Yitzchokel was holding counsel with her, with +her--his mother! + +"Of course, if the Dayan says so," she answered piously. + +"Yes," Yitzchokel continued, "there one can hear lectures with all the +commentaries; Reb Chayyim, the author of the book "Light of the Torah," +is a well-known scholar, and there one has a chance of getting to be +something decent." + +His words entirely reassured her, she felt a certain happiness and +exaltation, because he was her child, because she was the mother of such +a child, such a son, and because, were it not for her, Yitzchokel would +not be there at all. At the same time her heart pained her, and she grew +sad. + +Presently she remembered her husband, and burst out crying: + +"If only _he_ had lived, if only he could have had this consolation!" +she sobbed. + +Yitzchokel minded his book. + +That night Taube could not sleep, for at the thought of Yitzchokel's +departure the heart ached within her. + +And she dreamt, as she lay in bed, that some great Rabbis with tall fur +caps and long earlocks came in and took her Yitzchokel away from her; +her Yitzchokel was wearing a fur cap and locks like theirs, and he held +a large book, and he went far away with the Rabbis, and she stood and +gazed after him, not knowing, should she rejoice or weep. + +Next morning she woke late. Yitzchokel had already gone to his studies. +She hastened to dress the children, and hurried to the market-place. At +her stall she fell athinking, and fancied she was sitting beside her +son, who was a Rabbi in a large town; there he sits in shoes and socks, +a great fur cap on his head, and looks into a huge book. She sits at his +right hand knitting a sock, the door opens, and there appears Yente +carrying a dish, to ask a ritual question of Taube's son. + +A customer disturbed her sweet dream. + +After this Taube sat up whole nights at the table, by the light of the +smoky lamp, rearranging and mending Yitzchokel's shirts for the journey; +she recalled with every stitch that she was sewing for Yitzchokel, who +was going to the Academy, to sit and study, and who, every Friday, would +put on a shirt prepared for him by his mother. + +Yitzchokel sat as always on the other side of the table, gazing into a +book. The mother would have liked to speak to him, but she did not know +what to say. + +Taube and Yitzchokel were up before daylight. + +Yitzchokel kissed his little brothers in their sleep, and said to his +sleeping little sisters, "Remain in health"; one sister woke and began +to cry, saying she wanted to go with him. The mother embraced and +quieted her softly, then she and Yitzchokel left the room, carrying his +box between them. + +The street was still fast asleep, the shops were still closed, behind +the church belfry the morning star shone coldly forth onto the cold +morning dew on the roofs, and there was silence over all, except in the +market-place, where there stood a peasant's cart laden with fruit. It +was surrounded by women, and Yente's voice was heard from afar: + +"Five gulden and ten groschen,' and I'll take the lot!" + +And Taube, carrying Yitzchokel's box behind him, walked thus through the +market-place, and, catching sight of Yente, she looked at her with +pride. + +They came out behind the town, onto the highroad, and waited for an +"opportunity" to come by on its way to Lentschitz, whence Yitzchokel was +to proceed to Kutno. + +The sky was grey and cold, and mingled in the distance with the dingy +mist rising from the fields, and the road, silent and deserted, ran away +out of sight. + +They sat down beside the barrier, and waited for the "opportunity." + +The mother scraped together a few twenty-kopek-pieces out of her pocket, +and put them into his bosom, twisted up in his shirt. + +Presently a cart came by, crowded with passengers. She secured a seat +for Yitzchokel for forty groschen, and hoisted the box into the cart. + +"Go in health! Don't forget your mother!" she cried in tears. + +Yitzchokel was silent. + +She wanted to kiss her child, but she knew it was not the thing for a +grown-up boy to be kissed, so she refrained. + +Yitzchokel mounted the cart, the passengers made room for him among +them. + +"Remain in health, mother!" he called out as the cart set off. + +"Go in health, my child! Sit and study, and don't forget your mother!" +she cried after him. + +The cart moved further and further, till it was climbing the hill in the +distance. + +Taube still stood and followed it with her gaze; and not till it was +lost to view in the dust did she turn and walk back to the town. + +She took a road that should lead her past the cemetery. + +There was a rather low plank fence round it, and the gravestones were +all to be seen, looking up to Heaven. + +Taube went and hitched herself up onto the fence, and put her head over +into the "field," looking for something among the tombs, and when her +eyes had discovered a familiar little tombstone, she shook her head: + +"Lezer, Lezer! Your son has driven away to the Academy to study Torah!" + +Then she remembered the market, where Yente must by now have bought up +the whole cart-load of fruit. There would be nothing left for her, and +she hurried into the town. + +She walked at a great pace, and felt very pleased with herself. She was +conscious of having done a great thing, and this dissipated her +annoyance at the thought of Yente acquiring all the fruit. + +Two weeks later she got a letter from Yitzchokel, and, not being able to +read it herself, she took it to Reb Yochanan, the teacher, that he might +read it for her. + +Reb Yochanan put on his glasses, cleared his throat thoroughly, and +began to read: + +"Le-Immi ahuvossi hatzenuoh" ... + +"What is the translation?" asked Taube. + +"It is the way to address a mother," explained Reb Yochanan, and +continued. + +Taube's face had brightened, she put her apron to her eyes and wept for +joy. + +The reader observed this and read on. + +"What is the translation, the translation, Reb Yochanan?" the woman kept +on asking. + +"Never mind, it's not for you, you wouldn't understand--it is an +exposition of a passage in the Gemoreh." + +She was silent, the Hebrew words awed her, and she listened respectfully +to the end. + +"I salute Immi ahuvossi and Achoissai, Sarah and Goldeh, and Ochi Yakov; +tell him to study diligently. I have all my 'days' and I sleep at Reb +Chayyim's," gave out Reb Yochanan suddenly in Yiddish. + +Taube contented herself with these few words, took back the letter, put +it in her pocket, and went back to her stall with great joy. + +"This evening," she thought, "I will show it to the Dayan, and let him +read it too." + +And no sooner had she got home, cooked the dinner, and fed the children, +than she was off with the letter to the Dayan. + +She entered the room, saw the tall bookcases filled with books covering +the walls, and a man with a white beard sitting at the end of the table +reading. + +"What is it, a ritual question?" asked the Dayan from his place. + +"No." + +"What then?" + +"A letter from my Yitzchokel." + +The Dayan rose, came up and looked at her, took the letter, and began to +read it silently to himself. + +"Well done, excellent, good! The little fellow knows what he is saying," +said the Dayan more to himself than to her. + +Tears streamed from Taube's eyes. + +"If only _he_ had lived! if only he had lived!" + +"Shechitas chutz ... Rambam ... Tossafos is right ..." went on the +Dayan. + +"Her Yitzchokel, Taube the market-woman's son," she thought proudly. + +"Take the letter," said the Dayan, at last, "I've read it all through." + +"Well, and what?" asked the woman. + +"What? What do you want then?" + +"What does it say?" she asked in a low voice. + +"There is nothing in it for you, you wouldn't understand," replied the +Dayan, with a smile. + +Yitzchokel continued to write home, the Yiddish words were fewer every +time, often only a greeting to his mother. And she came to Reb Yochanan, +and he read her the Yiddish phrases, with which she had to be satisfied. +"The Hebrew words are for the Dayan," she said to herself. + +But one day, "There is nothing in the letter for you," said Reb +Yochanan. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Nothing," he said shortly. + +"Read me at least what there is." + +"But it is all Hebrew, Torah, you won't understand." + +"Very well, then, I _won't_ understand...." + +"Go in health, and don't drive me distracted." + +Taube left him, and resolved to go that evening to the Dayan. + +"Rebbe, excuse me, translate this into Yiddish," she said, handing him +the letter. + +The Dayan took the letter and read it. + +"Nothing there for you," he said. + +"Rebbe," said Taube, shyly, "excuse me, translate the Hebrew for me!" + +"But it is Torah, an exposition of a passage in the Torah. You won't +understand." + +"Well, if you would only read the letter in Hebrew, but aloud, so that I +may hear what he says." + +"But you won't understand one word, it's Hebrew!" persisted the Dayan, +with a smile. + +"Well, I _won't_ understand, that's all," said the woman, "but it's my +child's Torah, my child's!" + +The Dayan reflected a while, then he began to read aloud. + +Presently, however, he glanced at Taube, and remembered he was +expounding the Torah to a woman! And he felt thankful no one had heard +him. + +"Take the letter, there is nothing in it for you," he said +compassionately, and sat down again in his place. + +"But it is my child's Torah, my Yitzchokel's letter, why mayn't I hear +it? What does it matter if I don't understand? It is my own child!" + +The Dayan turned coldly away. + +When Taube reached home after this interview, she sat down at the table, +took down the lamp from the wall, and looked silently at the letter by +its smoky light. + +She kissed the letter, but then it occurred to her that she was defiling +it with her lips, she, a sinful woman! + +She rose, took her husband's prayer-book from the bookshelf, and laid +the letter between its leaves. + +Then with trembling lips she kissed the covers of the book, and placed +it once more in the bookcase. + + + + +THE SINNER + + +So that you should not suspect me of taking his part, I will write a +short preface to my story. + +It is written: "A man never so much as moves his finger, but it has been +so decreed from above," and whatsoever a man does, he fulfils God's +will--even animals and birds (I beg to distinguish!) carry out God's +wishes: whenever a bird flies, it fulfils a precept, because God, +blessed is He, formed it to fly, and an ox the same when it lows, and +even a dog when it barks--all praise God with their voices, and sing +hymns to Him, each after his manner. + +And even the wicked who transgresses fulfils God's will in spite of +himself, because why? Do you suppose he takes pleasure in transgressing? +Isn't he certain to repent? Well, then? He is just carrying out the will +of Heaven. + +And the Evil Inclination himself! Why, every time he is sent to persuade +a Jew to sin, he weeps and sighs: Woe is me, that I should be sent on +such an errand! + +After this little preface, I will tell you the story itself. + +Formerly, before the thing happened, he was called Reb Avròhom, but +afterwards they ceased calling him by his name, and said simply the +Sinner. + +Reb Avròhom was looked up to and respected by the whole town, a +God-fearing Jew, beloved and honored by all, and mothers wished they +might have children like him. + +He sat the whole day in the house-of-study and learned. Not that he was +a great scholar, but he was a pious, scrupulously observant Jew, who +followed the straight and beaten road, a man without any pride. He used +to recite the prayers in Shool together with the strangers by the door, +and quite quietly, without any shouting or, one may say, any special +enthusiasm. His prayer that rose to Heaven, the barred gates opening +before it till it entered and was taken up into the Throne of Glory, +this prayer of his did not become a diamond there, dazzling the eye, but +a softly glistening pearl. + +And how, you ask, did he come to be called the Sinner? On this wise: You +must know that everyone, even those who were hardest on him after the +affair, acknowledged that he was a great lover of Israel, and I will add +that his sin and, Heaven defend us, his coming to such a fall, all +proceeded from his being such a lover of Israel, such a patriot. + +And it was just the simple Jew, the very common folk, that he loved. + +He used to say: A Jew who is a driver, for instance, and busy all the +week with his horses and cart, and soaked in materialism for six days at +a stretch, so that he only just manages to get in his prayers--when he +comes home on Sabbath and sits down to table, and the bed is made, and +the candles burning, and his wife and children are round him, and they +sing hymns together, well, the driver dozing off over his prayer-book +and forgetting to say grace, I tell you, said Reb Avròhom, the Divine +Presence rests on his house and rejoices and says, "Happy am I that I +chose me out this people," for such a Jew keeps Sabbath, rests himself, +and his horse rests, keeps Sabbath likewise, stands in the stable, and +is also conscious that it is the holy Sabbath, and when the driver rises +from his sleep, he leads the animal out to pasture, waters it, and they +all go for a walk with it in the meadow. + +And this walk of theirs is more acceptable to God, blessed is He, than +repeating "Bless the Lord, O my soul." It may be this was because he +himself was of humble origin; he had lived till he was thirteen with his +father, a farmer, in an out-of-the-way village, and ignorant even of his +letters. True, his father had taken a youth into the house to teach him +Hebrew, but Reb Avròhom as a boy was very wild, wouldn't mind his book, +and ran all day after the oxen and horses. + +He used to lie out in the meadow, hidden in the long grasses, near him +the horses with their heads down pulling at the grass, and the view +stretched far, far away, into the endless distance, and above him spread +the wide sky, through which the clouds made their way, and the green, +juicy earth seemed to look up at it and say: "Look, sky, and see how +cheerfully I try to obey God's behest, to make the world green with +grass!" And the sky made answer: "See, earth, how I try to fulfil God's +command, by spreading myself far and wide!" and the few trees scattered +over the fields were like witnesses to their friendly agreement. And +little Avròhom lay and rejoiced in the goodness and all the work of God. +Suddenly, as though he had received a revelation from Heaven, he went +home, and asked the youth who was his teacher, "What blessing should +one recite on feeling happy at sight of the world?" The youth laughed, +and said: "You stupid boy! One says a blessing over bread and water, but +as to saying one over _this world_--who ever heard of such a thing?" + +Avròhom wondered, "The world is beautiful, the sky so pretty, the earth +so sweet and soft, everything is so delightful to look at, and one says +no blessing over it all!" + +At thirteen he had left the village and come to the town. There, in the +house-of-study, he saw the head of the Academy sitting at one end of the +table, and around it, the scholars, all reciting in fervent, appealing +tones that went to his heart. + +The boy began to cry, whereupon the head of the Academy turned, and saw +a little boy with a torn hat, crying, and his hair coming out through +the holes, and his boots slung over his shoulder, like a peasant lad +fresh from the road. The scholars laughed, but the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh +asked him what he wanted. + +"To learn," he answered in a low, pleading voice. + +The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh had compassion on him, and took him as a pupil. +Avròhom applied himself earnestly to the Torah, and in a few days could +read Hebrew and follow the prayers without help. + +And the way he prayed was a treat to watch. You should have seen him! He +just stood and talked, as one person talks to another, quietly and +affectionately, without any tricks of manner. + +Once the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh saw him praying, and said before his whole +Academy, "I can learn better than he, but when it comes to praying, I +don't reach to his ankles." That is what he said. + +So Reb Avròhom lived there till he was grown up, and had married the +daughter of a simple tailor. Indeed, he learnt tailoring himself, and +lived by his ten fingers. By day he sat and sewed with an open +prayer-book before him, and recited portions of the Psalms to himself. +After dark he went into the house-of-study, so quietly that no one +noticed him, and passed half the night over the Talmud. + +Once some strangers came to the town, and spent the night in the +house-of-study behind the stove. Suddenly they heard a thin, sweet voice +that was like a tune in itself. They started up, and saw him at his +book. The small lamp hanging by a cord poured a dim light upon him where +he sat, while the walls remained in shadow. He studied with ardor, with +enthusiasm, only his enthusiasm was not for beholders, it was all +within; he swayed slowly to and fro, and his shadow swayed with him, and +he softly chanted the Gemoreh. By degrees his voice rose, his face +kindled, and his eyes began to glow, one could see that his very soul +was resolving itself into his chanting. The Divine Presence hovered over +him, and he drank in its sweetness. And in the middle of his reading, he +got up and walked about the room, repeating in a trembling whisper, +"Lord of the World! O Lord of the World!" + +Then his voice grew as suddenly calm, and he stood still, as though he +had dozed off where he stood, for pure delight. The lamp grew dim, and +still he stood and stood and never moved. + +Awe fell on the travellers behind the stove, and they cried out. He +started and approached them, and they had to close their eyes against +the brightness of his face, the light that shone out of his eyes! And he +stood there quite quietly and simply, and asked in a gentle voice why +they had called out. Were they cold? + +And he took off his cloak and spread it over them. + +Next morning the travellers told all this, and declared that no sooner +had the cloak touched them than they had fallen asleep, and they had +seen and heard nothing more that night. After this, when the whole town +had got wind of it, and they found out who it was that night in the +house-of-study, the people began to believe that he was a Tzaddik, and +they came to him with Petitions, as Chassidim to their Rebbes, asking +him to pray for their health and other wants. But when they brought him +such a petition, he would smile and say: "Believe me, a little boy who +says grace over a piece of bread which his mother has given him, he can +help you more than twenty such as I." + +Of course, his words made no impression, except that they brought more +petitions than ever, upon which he said: + +"You insist on a man of flesh and blood such as I being your advocate +with God, blessed is He. Hear a parable: To what shall we liken the +thing? To the light of the sun and the light of a small lamp. You can +rejoice in the sunlight as much as you please, and no one can take your +joy from you; the poorest and most humble may revive himself with it, so +long as his eyes can behold it, and even though a man should sit, which +God forbid, in a dungeon with closed windows, a reflection will make +its way in through the chinks, and he shall rejoice in the brightness. +But with the poor light of a lamp it is otherwise. A rich man buys a +quantity of lamps and illumines his house, while a poor man sits in +darkness. God, blessed be He, is the great light that shines for the +whole world, reviving and refreshing all His works. The whole world is +full of His mercy, and His compassion is over all His creatures. Believe +me, you have no need of an advocate with Him; God is your Father, and +you are His dear children. How should a child need an advocate with his +father?" + +The ordinary folk heard and were silent, but our people, the Chassidim, +were displeased. And I'll tell you another thing, I was the first to +mention it to the Rebbe, long life to him, and he, as is well known, +commanded Reb Avròhom to his presence. + +So we set to work to persuade Reb Avròhom and talked to him till he had +to go with us. + +The journey lasted four days. + +I remember one night, the moon was wandering in a blue ocean of sky that +spread ever so far, till it mingled with a cloud, and she looked at us, +pitifully and appealingly, as though to ask us if we knew which way she +ought to go, to the right or to the left, and presently the cloud came +upon her, and she began struggling to get out of it, and a minute or two +later she was free again and smiling at us. + +Then a little breeze came, and stroked our faces, and we looked round to +the four sides of the world, and it seemed as if the whole world were +wrapped in a prayer-scarf woven of mercy, and we fell into a slight +melancholy, a quiet sadness, but so sweet and pleasant, it felt like on +Sabbath at twilight at the Third Meal. + +Suddenly Reb Avròhom exclaimed: "Jews, have you said the blessings on +the appearance of the new moon?" We turned towards the moon, laid down +our bundles, washed our hands in a little stream that ran by the +roadside, and repeated the blessings for the new moon. + +He stood looking into the sky, his lips scarcely moving, as was his +wont. "Sholom Alechem!" he said, turning to me, and his voice quivered +like a violin, and his eyes called to peace and unity. Then an awe of +Reb Avròhom came over me for the first time, and when we had finished +sanctifying the moon our melancholy left us, and we prepared to continue +our way. + +But still he stood and gazed heavenward, sighing: "Lord of the Universe! +How beautiful is the world which Thou hast made by Thy goodness and +great mercy, and these are over all Thy creatures. They all love Thee, +and are glad in Thee, and Thou art glad in them, and the whole world is +full of Thy glory." + +I glanced up at the moon, and it seemed that she was still looking at +me, and saying, "I'm lost; which way am I to go?" + +We arrived Friday afternoon, and had time enough to go to the bath and +to greet the Rebbe. + +He, long life to him, was seated in the reception-room beside a table, +his long lashes low over his eyes, leaning on his left hand, while he +greeted incomers with his right. We went up to him, one at a time, shook +hands, and said "Sholom Alechem," and he, long life to him, said +nothing to us. Reb Avròhom also went up to him, and held out his hand. + +A change came over the Rebbe, he raised his eyelids with his fingers, +and looked at Reb Avròhom for some time in silence. + +And Reb Avròhom looked at the Rebbe, and was silent too. + +The Chassidim were offended by such impertinence. + +That evening we assembled in the Rebbe's house-of-study, to usher in the +Sabbath. It was tightly packed with Jews, one pushing the other, or +seizing hold of his girdle, only beside the ark was there a free space +left, a semicircle, in the middle of which stood the Rebbe and prayed. + +But Reb Avròhom stood by the door among the poor guests, and prayed +after his fashion. + +"To Kiddush!" called the beadle. + +The Rebbe's wife, daughters, and daughters-in-law now appeared, and +their jewelry, their precious stones, and their pearls, sparkled and +shone. + +The Rebbe stood and repeated the prayer of Sanctification. + +He was slightly bent, and his grey beard swept his breast. His eyes were +screened by his lashes, and he recited the Sanctification in a loud +voice, giving to every word a peculiar inflection, to every sign an +expression of its own. + +"To table!" was called out next. + +At the head of the table sat the Rebbe, sons and sons-in-law to the +left, relations to the right of him, then the principal aged Jews, then +the rich. + +The people stood round about. + +The Rebbe ate, and began to serve out the leavings, to his sons and +sons-in-law first, and to the rest of those sitting at the table after. + +Then there was silence, the Rebbe began to expound the Torah. The +portion of the week was Numbers, chapter eight, and the Rebbe began: + +"When a man's soul is on a low level, enveloped, Heaven defend us, in +uncleanness, and the Divine spark within the soul wishes to rise to a +higher level, and cannot do so alone, but must needs be helped, it is a +Mitzveh to help her, to raise her, and this Mitzveh is specially +incumbent on the priest. This is the meaning of 'the seven lamps shall +give light over against the candlestick,' by which is meant the holy +Torah. The priest must bring the Jew's heart near to the Torah; in this +way he is able to raise it. And who is the priest? The righteous in his +generation, because since the Temple was destroyed, the saint must be a +priest, for thus is the command from above, that he shall be the +priest...." + +"Avròhom!" the Rebbe called suddenly, "Avròhom! Come here, I am calling +you." + +The other went up to him. + +"Avròhom, did you understand? Did you make out the meaning of what I +said? + +"Your silence," the Rebbe went on, "is an acknowledgment. I must raise +you, even though it be against my will and against your will." + +There was dead stillness in the room, people waiting to hear what would +come next. + +"You are silent?" asked the Rebbe, now a little sternly. + +"_You_ want to be a raiser of souls? Have _you_, bless and preserve us, +bought the Almighty for yourself? Do you think that a Jew can approach +nearer to God, blessed is He, through _you_? That _you_ are the 'handle +of the pestle' and the rest of the Jews nowhere? God's grace is +everywhere, whichever way we turn, every time we move a limb we feel +God! Everyone must seek Him in his own heart, because there it is that +He has caused the Divine Presence to rest. Everywhere and always can the +Jew draw near to God...." + +Thus answered Reb Avròhom, but our people, the Rebbe's followers, shut +his mouth before he had made an end, and had the Rebbe not held them +back, they would have torn him in pieces on the spot. + +"Leave him alone!" he commanded the Chassidim. + +And to Reb Avròhom he said: + +"Avròhom, you have sinned!" + +And from that day forward he was called the Sinner, and was shut out +from everywhere. The Chassidim kept their eye on him, and persecuted +him, and he was not even allowed to pray in the house-of-study. + +And I'll tell you what I think: A wicked man, even when he acts +according to his wickedness, fulfils God's command. And who knows? +Perhaps they were both right! + + + + +ISAAC DOB BERKOWITZ + + +Born, 1885, in Slutzk, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; was in America for a short time in 1908; contributor to Die +Zukunft; co-editor of Ha-Olam, Wilna; Hebrew and Yiddish writer; +collected works: Yiddish, Gesammelte Schriften, Warsaw, 1910; +Hebrew, Sippurim, Cracow, 1910. + + + + +COUNTRY FOLK + + +Feivke was a wild little villager, about seven years old, who had +tumbled up from babyhood among Gentile urchins, the only Jewish boy in +the place, just as his father Mattes, the Kozlov smith, was the only +Jewish householder there. Feivke had hardly ever met, or even seen, +anyone but the people of Kozlov and their children. Had it not been for +his black eyes, with their moody, persistent gaze from beneath the shade +of a deep, worn-out leather cap, it would have puzzled anyone to make +out his parentage, to know whence that torn and battered face, that red +scar across the top lip, those large, black, flat, unchild-like feet. +But the eyes explained everything--his mother's eyes. + +Feivke spent the whole summer with the village urchins in the +neighboring wood, picking mushrooms, climbing the trees, driving +wood-pigeons off their high nests, or wading knee-deep in the shallow +bog outside to seek the black, slippery bog-worms; or else he found +himself out in the fields, jumping about on the top of a load of hay +under a hot sky, and shouting to his companions, till he was bathed in +perspiration. At other times, he gathered himself away into a dark, cool +barn, scrambled at the peril of his life along a round beam under the +roof, crunched dried pears, saw how the sun sprinkled the darkness with +a thousand sparks, and--thought. He could always think about Mikita, the +son of the village elder, who had almost risen to be conductor on a +railway train, and who came from a long way off to visit his father, +brass buttons to his coat and a purse full of silver rubles, and piped +to the village girls of an evening on the most cunning kind of whistle. + +How often it had happened that Feivke could not be found, and did not +even come home to bed! But his parents troubled precious little about +him, seeing that he was growing up a wild, dissolute boy, and the +displeasure of Heaven rested on his head. + +Feivke was not a timid child, but there were two things he was afraid +of: God and davvening. Feivke had never, to the best of his +recollection, seen God, but he often heard His name, they threatened him +with It, glanced at the ceiling, and sighed. And this embittered +somewhat his sweet, free days. He felt that the older he grew, the +sooner he would have to present himself before this terrifying, stern, +and unfamiliar God, who was hidden somewhere, whether near or far he +could not tell. One day Feivke all but ran a danger. It was early on a +winter morning; there was a cold, wild wind blowing outside, and indoors +there was a black stranger Jew, in a thick sheepskin, breaking open the +tin charity boxes. The smith's wife served the stranger with hot +potatoes and sour milk, whereupon the stranger piously closed his eyes, +and, having reopened them, caught sight of Feivke through the white +steam rising from the dish of potatoes--Feivke, huddled up in a +corner--and beckoned him nearer. + +"Have you begun to learn, little boy?" he questioned, and took his cheek +between two pale, cold fingers, which sent a whiff of snuff up Feivke's +nose. His mother, standing by the stove, reddened, and made some +inaudible answer. The black stranger threw up his eyes, and slowly shook +his head inside the wide sheepskin collar. This shaking to and fro of +his head boded no good, and Feivke grew strangely cold inside. Then he +grew hot all over, and, for several nights after, thousands of long, +cold, pale fingers pursued and pinched him in his dreams. + +They had never yet taught him to recite his prayers. Kozlov was a lonely +village, far from any Jewish settlement. Every Sabbath morning Feivke, +snug in bed, watched his father put on a mended black cloak, wrap +himself in the Tallis, shut his eyes, take on a bleating voice, and, +turning to the wall, commence a series of bows. Feivke felt that his +father was bowing before God, and this frightened him. He thought it a +very rash proceeding. Feivke, in his father's place, would sooner have +had nothing to do with God. He spent most of the time while his father +was at his prayers cowering under the coverlet, and only crept out when +he heard his mother busy with plates and spoons, and the pungent smell +of chopped radishes and onions penetrated to the bedroom. + +Winters and summers passed, and Feivke grew to be seven years old, just +such a Feivke as we have described. And the last summer passed, and gave +way to autumn. + +That autumn the smith's wife was brought to bed of a seventh child, and +before she was about again, the cold, damp days were upon them, with the +misty mornings, when a fish shivers in the water. And the days of her +confinement were mingled for the lonely village Jewess with the Solemn +Days of that year into a hard and dreary time. She went slowly about the +house, as in a fog, without help or hope, and silent as a shadow. That +year they all led a dismal life. The elder children, girls, went out to +service in the neighboring towns, to make their own way among strangers. +The peasants had become sharper and worse than formerly, and the smith's +strength was not what it had been. So his wife resolved to send the two +men of the family, Mattes and Feivke, to a Minyan this Yom Kippur. +Maybe, if _two_ went, God would not be able to resist them, and would +soften His heart. + +One morning, therefore, Mattes the smith washed, donned his mended +Sabbath cloak, went to the window, and blinked through it with his red +and swollen eyes. It was the Eve of the Day of Atonement. The room was +well-warmed, and there was a smell of freshly-stewed carrots. The +smith's wife went out to seek Feivke through the village, and brought +him home dishevelled and distracted, and all of a glow. She had torn him +away from an early morning of excitement and delight such as could +never, never be again. Mikita, the son of the village elder, had put his +father's brown colt into harness for the first time. The whole +contingent of village boys had been present to watch the fiery young +animal twisting between the shafts, drawing loud breaths into its +dilated and quivering nostrils, looking wildly at the surrounding boys, +and stamping impatiently, as though it would have liked to plow away the +earth from under its feet. And suddenly it had given a bound and started +careering through the village with the cart behind it. There was a +glorious noise and commotion! Feivke was foremost among those who, in a +cloud of dust and at the peril of their life, had dashed to seize the +colt by the reins. + +His mother washed him, looked him over from the low-set leather hat down +to his great, black feet, stuffed a packet of food into his hands, and +said: + +"Go and be a good and devout boy, and God will forgive you." + +She stood on the threshold of the house, and looked after her two men +starting for a distant Minyan. The bearing of seven children had aged +and weakened the once hard, obstinate woman, and, left standing alone in +the doorway, watching her poor, barefoot, perverse-natured boy on his +way to present himself for the first time before God, she broke down by +the Mezuzeh and wept. + +Silently, step by step, Feivke followed his father between the desolate +stubble fields. It was a good ten miles' walk to the large village where +the Minyan assembled, and the fear and the wonder in Feivke's heart +increased all the way. He did not yet quite understand whither he was +being taken, and what was to be done with him there, and the impetus of +the brown colt's career through the village had not as yet subsided in +his head. Why had Father put on his black mended cloak? Why had he +brought a Tallis with him, and a white shirt-like garment? There was +certainly some hour of calamity and terror ahead, something was +preparing which had never happened before. + +They went by the great Kozlov wood, wherein every tree stood silent and +sad for its faded and fallen leaves. Feivke dropped behind his father, +and stepped aside into the wood. He wondered: Should he run away and +hide in the wood? He would willingly stay there for the rest of his +life. He would foregather with Nasta, the barrel-maker's son, he of the +knocked-out eye; they would roast potatoes out in the wood, and now and +again, stolen-wise, milk the village cows for their repast. Let them +beat him as much as they pleased, let them kill him on the spot, nothing +should induce him to leave the wood again! + +But no! As Feivke walked along under the silent trees and through the +fallen leaves, and perceived that the whole wood was filled through and +through with a soft, clear light, and heard the rustle of the leaves +beneath his step, a strange terror took hold of him. The wood had grown +so sparse, the trees so discolored, and he should have to remain in the +stillness alone, and roam about in the winter wind! + +Mattes the smith had stopped, wondering, and was blinking around with +his sick eyes. + +"Feivke, where are you?" + +Feivke appeared out of the wood. + +"Feivke, to-day you mustn't go into the wood. To-day God may yet--to-day +you must be a good boy," said the smith, repeating his wife's words as +they came to his mind, "and you must say Amen." + +Feivke hung his head and looked at his great, bare, black feet. "But if +I don't know how," he said sullenly. + +"It's no great thing to say Amen!" his father replied encouragingly. +"When you hear the other people say it, you can say it, too! Everyone +must say Amen, then God will forgive them," he added, recalling again +his wife and her admonitions. + +Feivke was silent, and once more followed his father step by step. What +will they ask him, and what is he to answer? It seemed to him now that +they were going right over away yonder where the pale, scarcely-tinted +sky touched the earth. There, on a hill, sits a great, old God in a +large sheepskin cloak. Everyone goes up to him, and He asks them +questions, which they have to answer, and He shakes His head to and fro +inside the sheepskin collar. And what is he, a wild, ignorant little +boy, to answer this great, old God? + +Feivke had committed a great many transgressions concerning which his +mother was constantly admonishing him, but now he was thinking only of +two great transgressions committed recently, of which his mother knew +nothing. One with regard to Anishka the beggar. Anishka was known to the +village, as far back as it could remember, as an old, blind beggar, who +went the round of the villages, feeling his way with a long stick. And +one day Feivke and another boy played him a trick: they placed a ladder +in his way, and Anishka stumbled and fell, hurting his nose. Some +peasants had come up and caught Feivke. Anishka sat in the middle of the +road with blood on his face, wept bitterly, and declared that God would +not forget his blood that had been spilt. The peasants had given the +little Zhydek a sound thrashing, but Feivke felt now as if that would +not count: God would certainly remember the spilling of Anishka's blood. + +Feivke's second hidden transgression had been committed outside the +village, among the graves of the peasants. A whole troop of boys, Feivke +in their midst, had gone pigeon hunting, aiming at the pigeons with +stones, and a stone of Feivke's had hit the naked figure on the cross +that stood among the graves. The Gentile boys had started and taken +fright, and those among them who were Feivke's good friends told him he +had actually hit the son of God, and that the thing would have +consequences; it was one for which people had their heads cut off. + +These two great transgressions now stood before him, and his heart +warned him that the hour had come when he would be called to account for +what he had done to Anishka and to God's son. Only he did not know what +answer he could make. + +By the time they came near the windmill belonging to the large strange +village, the sun had begun to set. The village river with the trees +beside it were visible a long way off, and, crossing the river, a long +high bridge. + +"The Minyan is there," and Mattes pointed his finger at the thatched +roofs shining in the sunset. + +Feivke looked down from the bridge into the deep, black water that lay +smooth and still in the shadow of the trees. The bridge was high and the +water deep! Feivke felt sick at heart, and his mouth was dry. + +"But, Tate, I won't be able to answer," he let out in despair. + +"What, not Amen? Eh, eh, you little silly, that is no great matter. +Where is the difficulty? One just ups and answers!" said his father, +gently, but Feivke heard that the while his father was trying to quiet +him, his own voice trembled. + +At the other end of the bridge there appeared the great inn with the +covered terrace, and in front of the building were moving groups of Jews +in holiday garb, with red handkerchiefs in their hands, women in yellow +silk head-kerchiefs, and boys in new clothes holding small prayer-books. +Feivke remained obstinately outside the crowd, and hung about the +stable, his black eyes staring defiantly from beneath the worn-out +leather cap. But he was not left alone long, for soon there came to him +a smart, yellow-haired boy, with restless little light-colored eyes, and +a face like a chicken's, covered with freckles. This little boy took a +little bottle with some essence in it out of his pocket, gave it a twist +and a flourish in the air, and suddenly applied it to Feivke's nose, so +that the strong waters spurted into his nostril. Then he asked: + +"To whom do you belong?" + +Feivke blew the water out of his nose, and turned his head away in +silence. + +"Listen, turkey, lazy dog! What are you doing there? Have you said +Minchah?" + +"N-no...." + +"Is the Jew in a torn cloak there your father?" + +"Y-yes ... T-tate...." + +The yellow-haired boy took Feivke by the sleeve. + +"Come along, and you'll see what they'll do to your father." + +Inside the room into which Feivke was dragged by his new friend, it was +hot, and there was a curious, unfamiliar sound. Feivke grew dizzy. He +saw Jews bowing and bending along the wall and beating their +breasts--now they said something, and now they wept in an odd way. +People coughed and spat sobbingly, and blew their noses with their red +handkerchiefs. Chairs and stiff benches creaked, while a continual +clatter of plates and spoons came through the wall. + +In a corner, beside a heap of hay, Feivke saw his father where he stood, +looking all round him, blinking shamefacedly and innocently with his +weak, red eyes. Round him was a lively circle of little boys whispering +with one another in evident expectation. + +"That is his boy, with the lip," said the chicken-face, presenting +Feivke. + +At the same moment a young man came up to Mattes. He wore a white collar +without a tie and with a pointed brass stud. This young man held a whip, +which he brandished in the air like a rider about to mount his horse. + +"Well, Reb Smith." + +"Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?" asked Mattes, subserviently, +still smiling round in the same shy and yet confiding manner. + +"Be so good as to lie down." + +The young man gave a mischievous look at the boys, and made a gesture in +the air with the whip. + +Mattes began to unbutton his cloak, and slowly and cautiously let +himself down onto the hay, whereupon the young man applied the whip with +might and main, and his whole face shone. + +"One, two, three! Go on, Rebbe, go on!" urged the boys, and there were +shouts of laughter. + +Feivke looked on in amaze. He wanted to go and take his father by the +sleeve, make him get up and escape, but just then Mattes raised himself +to a sitting posture, and began to rub his eyes with the same shy smile. + +"Now, Rebbe, this one!" and the yellow-haired boy began to drag Feivke +towards the hay. The others assisted. Feivke got very red, and silently +tried to tear himself out of the boy's hands, making for the door, but +the other kept his hold. In the doorway Feivke glared at him with his +obstinate black eyes, and said: + +"I'll knock your teeth out!" + +"Mine? You? You booby, you lazy thing! This is _our_ house! Do you know, +on New Year's Eve I went with my grandfather to the town! I shall call +Leibrutz. He'll give you something to remember him by!" + +And Leibrutz was not long in joining them. He was the inn driver, a +stout youth of fifteen, in a peasant smock with a collar stitched in +red, otherwise in full array, with linen socks and a handsome bottle of +strong waters against faintness in his hands. To judge by the size of +the bottle, his sturdy looks belied a peculiarly delicate constitution. +He pushed towards Feivke with one shoulder, in no friendly fashion, and +looked at him with one eye, while he winked with the other at the +freckled grandson of the host. + +"Who is the beauty?" + +"How should I know? A thief most likely. The Kozlov smith's boy. He +threatened to knock out my teeth." + +"So, so, dear brother mine!" sang out Leibrutz, with a cold sneer, and +passed his five fingers across Feivke's nose. "We must rub a little +horseradish under his eyes, and he'll weep like a beaver. Listen, you +Kozlov urchin, you just keep your hands in your pockets, because +Leibrutz is here! Do you know Leibrutz? Lucky for you that I have a +Jewish heart: to-day is Yom Kippur." + +But the chicken-faced boy was not pacified. + +"Did you ever see such a lip? And then he comes to our house and wants +to fight us!" + +The whole lot of boys now encircled Feivke with teasing and laughter, +and he stood barefooted in their midst, looking at none of them, and +reminding one of a little wild animal caught and tormented. + +It grew dark, and quantities of soul-lights were set burning down the +long tables of the inn. The large building was packed with red-faced, +perspiring Jews, in flowing white robes and Tallesim. The Confession was +already in course of fervent recital, there was a great rocking and +swaying over the prayer-books and a loud noise in the ears, everyone +present trying to make himself heard above the rest. Village Jews are +simple and ignorant, they know nothing of "silent prayer" and whispering +with the lips. They are deprived of prayer in common a year at a time, +and are distant from the Lord of All, and when the Awful Day comes, they +want to take Him by storm, by violence. The noisiest of all was the +prayer-leader himself, the young man with the white collar and no tie. +He was from town, and wished to convince the country folk that he was an +adept at his profession and to be relied on. Feivke stood in the +stifling room utterly confounded. The prayers and the wailful chanting +passed over his head like waves, his heart was straitened, red sparks +whirled before his eyes. He was in a state of continual apprehension. He +saw a snow-white old Jew come out of a corner with a scroll of the Torah +wrapped in a white velvet, gold-embroidered cover. How the gold sparkled +and twinkled and reflected itself in the illuminated beard of the old +man! Feivke thought the moment had come, but he saw it all as through a +mist, a long way off, to the sound of the wailful chanting, and as in a +mist the scroll and the old man vanished together. Feivke's face and +body were flushed with heat, his knees shook, and at the same time his +hands and feet were cold as ice. + +Once, while Feivke was standing by the table facing the bright flames of +the soul-lights, a dizziness came over him, and he closed his eyes. +Thousands of little bells seemed to ring in his ears. Then some one gave +a loud thump on the table, and there was silence all around. Feivke +started and opened his eyes. The sudden stillness frightened him, and he +wanted to move away from the table, but he was walled in by men in white +robes, who had begun rocking and swaying anew. One of them pushed a +prayer-book towards him, with great black letters, which hopped and +fluttered to Feivke's eyes like so many little black birds. + +He shook visibly, and the men looked at him in silence: "Nu-nu, nu-nu!" +He remained for some time squeezed against the prayer-book, hemmed in by +the tall, strange men in robes swaying and praying over his head. A cold +perspiration broke out over him, and when at last he freed himself, he +felt very tired and weak. Having found his way to a corner close to his +father, he fell asleep on the floor. + +There he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he was a tree, growing like +any other tree in a wood, and that he saw Anishka coming along with +blood on his face, in one hand his long stick, and in the other a +stone--and Feivke recognized the stone with which he had hit the +crucifix. And Anishka kept turning his head and making signs to some one +with his long stick, calling out to him that here was Feivke. Feivke +looked hard, and there in the depths of the wood was God Himself, white +all over, like freshly-fallen snow. And God suddenly grew ever so tall, +and looked down at Feivke. Feivke felt God looking at him, but he could +not see God, because there was a mist before his eyes. And Anishka came +nearer and nearer with the stone in his hand. Feivke shook, and cold +perspiration oozed out all over him. He wanted to run away, but he +seemed to be growing there like a tree, like all the other trees of the +wood. + +Feivke awoke on the floor, amid sleeping men, and the first thing he saw +was a tall, barefoot person all in white, standing over the sleepers +with something in his hand. This tall, white figure sank slowly onto its +knees, and, bending silently over Mattes the smith, who lay snoring +with the rest, it deliberately put a bottle to his nose. Mattes gave a +squeal, and sat up hastily. + +"Ha, who is it?" he asked in alarm. + +It was the young man from town, the prayer-leader, with a bottle of +strong smelling-salts. + +"It is I," he said with a _dégagé_ air, and smiled. "Never mind, it will +do you good! You are fasting, and there is an express law in the Chayyé +Odom on the subject." + +"But why me?" complained Mattes, blinking at him reproachfully. "What +have I done to you?" + +Day was about to dawn. The air in the room had cooled down; the +soul-lights were still playing in the dark, dewy window-panes. A few of +the men bedded in the hay on the floor were waking up. Feivke stood in +the middle of the room with staring eyes. The young man with the +smelling-bottle came up to him with a lively air. + +"O you little object! What are you staring at me for? Do you want a +sniff? There, then, sniff!" + +Feivke retreated into a corner, and continued to stare at him in +bewilderment. + +No sooner was it day, than the davvening recommenced with all the fervor +of the night before, the room was as noisy, and very soon nearly as hot. +But it had not the same effect on Feivke as yesterday, and he was no +longer frightened of Anishka and the stone--the whole dream had +dissolved into thin air. When they once more brought out the scroll of +the Law in its white mantle, Feivke was standing by the table, and +looked on indifferently while they uncovered the black, shining, crowded +letters. He looked indifferently at the young man from town swaying over +the Torah, out of which he read fluently, intoning with a strangely free +and easy manner, like an adept to whom all this was nothing new. +Whenever he stopped reading, he threw back his head, and looked down at +the people with a bright, satisfied smile. + +The little boys roamed up and down the room in socks, with +smelling-salts in their hands, or yawned into their little prayer-books. +The air was filled with the dust of the trampled hay. The sun looked in +at a window, and the soul-lights grew dim as in a mist. It seemed to +Feivke he had been at the Minyan a long, long time, and he felt as +though some great misfortune had befallen him. Fear and wonder continued +to oppress him, but not the fear and wonder of yesterday. He was tired, +his body burning, while his feet were contracted with cold. He got away +outside, stretched himself out on the grass behind the inn and dozed, +facing the sun. He dozed there through a good part of the day. Bright +red rivers flowed before his eyes, and they made his brains ache. Some +one, he did not know who, stood over him, and never stopped rocking to +and fro and reciting prayers. Then--it was his father bending over him +with a rather troubled look, and waking him in a strangely gentle voice: + +"Well, Feivke, are you asleep? You've had nothing to eat to-day yet?" + +"No...." + +Feivke followed his father back into the house on his unsteady feet. +Weary Jews with pale and lengthened noses were resting on the terrace +and the benches. The sun was already low down over the village and +shining full into the inn windows. Feivke stood by one of the windows +with his father, and his head swam from the bright light. Mattes stroked +his chin-beard continually, then there was more davvening and more +rocking while they recited the Eighteen Benedictions. The Benedictions +ended, the young man began to trill, but in a weaker voice and without +charm. He was sick of the whole thing, and kept on in the half-hearted +way with which one does a favor. Mattes forgot to look at his +prayer-book, and, standing in the window, gazed at the tree-tops, which +had caught fire in the rays of the setting sun. Nobody was expecting +anything of him, when he suddenly gave a sob, so loud and so piteous +that all turned and looked at him in astonishment. Some of the people +laughed. The prayer-leader had just intoned "Michael on the right hand +uttereth praise," out of the Afternoon Service. What was there to cry +about in that? All the little boys had assembled round Mattes the smith, +and were choking with laughter, and a certain youth, the host's new +son-in-law, gave a twitch to Mattes' Tallis: + +"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!" + +Mattes answered not a word. The little fellow with the freckles pushed +his way up to him, and imitating the young man's intonation, repeated, +"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!" + +Feivke looked wildly round at the bystanders, at his father. Then he +suddenly advanced to the freckled boy, and glared at him with his black +eyes. + +"You, you--kob tebi biessi!" he hissed in Little-Russian. + +The laughter and commotion increased; there was an exclamation: "Rascal, +in a holy place!" and another: "Aha! the Kozlover smith's boy must be a +first-class scamp!" The prayer-leader thumped angrily on his +prayer-book, because no one was listening to him. + +Feivke escaped once more behind the inn, but the whole company of boys +followed him, headed by Leibrutz the driver. + +"There he is, the Kozlov lazy booby!" screamed the freckled boy. "Have +you ever heard the like? He actually wanted to fight again, and in our +house! What do you think of that?" + +Leibrutz went up to Feivke at a steady trot and with the gesture of one +who likes to do what has to be done calmly and coolly. + +"Wait, boys! Hands off! We've got a remedy for him here, for which I +hope he will be thankful." + +So saying, he deliberately took hold of Feivke from behind, by his two +arms, and made a sign to the boy with yellow hair. + +"Now for it, Aarontche, give it to the youngster!" + +The little boy immediately whipped the smelling-bottle out of his +pocket, took out the stopper with a flourish, and held it to Feivke's +nose. The next moment Feivke had wrenched himself free, and was making +for the chicken-face with nails spread, when he received two smart, +sounding boxes on the ears, from two great, heavy, horny hands, which so +clouded his brain that for a minute he stood dazed and dumb. Suddenly he +made a spring at Leibrutz, fell upon his hand, and fastened his sharp +teeth in the flesh. Leibrutz gave a loud yell. + +There was a great to-do. People came running out in their robes, women +with pale, startled faces called to their children. A few of them +reproved Mattes for his son's behavior. Then they dispersed, till there +remained behind the inn only Mattes and Feivke. Mattes looked at his boy +in silence. He was not a talkative man, and he found only two or three +words to say: + +"Feivke, Mother there at home--and you--here?" + +Again Feivke found himself alone on the field, and again he stretched +himself out and dozed. Again, too, the red streams flowed before his +eyes, and someone unknown to him stood at his head and recited prayers. +Only the streams were thicker and darker, and the davvening over his +head was louder, sadder, more penetrating. + +It was quite dark when Mattes came out again, took Feivke by the hand, +set him on his feet, and said, "Now we are going home." + +Indoors everything had come to an end, and the room had taken on a +week-day look. The candles were gone, and a lamp was burning above the +table, round which sat men in their hats and usual cloaks, no robes to +be seen, and partook of some refreshment. There was no more davvening, +but in Feivke's ears was the same ringing of bells. It now seemed to him +that he saw the room and the men for the first time, and the old Jew +sitting at the head of the table, presiding over bottles and +wine-glasses, and clicking with his tongue, could not possibly be the +old man with the silver-white beard who had held the scroll of the Law +to his breast. + +Mattes went up to the table, gave a cough, bowed to the company, and +said, "A good year!" + +The old man raised his head, and thundered so loudly that Feivke's face +twitched as with pain: + +"Ha?" + +"I said--I am just going--going home--home again--so I wish--wish you--a +good year!" + +"Ha, a good year? A good year to you also! Wait, have a little brandy, +ha?" + +Feivke shut his eyes. It made him feel bad to have the lamp burning so +brightly and the old man talking so loud. Why need he speak in such a +high, rasping voice that it went through one's head like a saw? + +"Ha? Is it your little boy who scratched my Aarontche's face? Ha? A +rascal is he? Beat him well! There, give him a little brandy, too--and a +bit of cake! He fasted too, ha? But he can't recite the prayers? Fie! +_You_ ought to be beaten! Ha? Are you going home? Go in health! Ha? Your +wife has just been confined?--Perhaps you need some money for the +holidays? Ha? What do you say?" + +Mattes and Feivke started to walk home. Mattes gave a look at the clear +sky, where the young half-moon had floated into view. "Mother will be +expecting us," he said, and began to walk quickly. Feivke could hardly +drag his feet. + +On the tall bridge they were met by a cool breeze blowing from the +water. Once across the bridge, Mattes again quickened his pace. +Presently he stopped to look around--no Feivke! He turned back and saw +Feivke sitting in the middle of the road. The child was huddled up in a +silent, shivering heap. His teeth chattered with cold. + +"Feivke, what is the matter? Why are you sitting down? Come along home!" + +"I won't"--Feivke clattered out with his teeth--"I c-a-n-'t--" + +"Did they hit you so hard, Feivke?" + +Feivke was silent. Then he stretched himself out on the ground, his +hands and feet quivering. + +"Cold--." + +"Aren't you well, Feivke?" + +The child made an effort, sat up, and looked fixedly at his father, with +his black, feverish eyes, and suddenly he asked: + +"Why did you cry there? Tate, why? Tell me, why?!" + +"Where did I cry, you little silly? Why, I just cried--it's Yom Kippur. +Mother is fasting, too--get up, Feivke, and come home. Mother will make +you a poultice," occurred to him as a happy thought. + +"No! Why did you cry, while they were laughing?" Feivke insisted, still +sitting in the road and shaking like a leaf. "One mustn't cry when they +laugh, one mustn't!" + +And he lay down again on the damp ground. + +"Feivele, come home, my son!" + +Mattes stood over the boy in despair, and looked around for help. From +some way off, from the tall bridge, came a sound of heavy footsteps +growing louder and louder, and presently the moonlight showed the figure +of a peasant. + +"Ai, who is that? Matke the smith? What are you doing there? Are you +casting spells? Who is that lying on the ground?" + +"I don't know myself what I'm doing, kind soul. That is my boy, and he +won't come home, or he can't. What am I to do with him?" complained +Mattes to the peasant, whom he knew. + +"Has he gone crazy? Give him a kick! Ai, you little lazy devil, get up!" +Feivke did not move from the spot, he only shivered silently, and his +teeth chattered. + +"Ach, you devil! What sort of a boy have you there, Matke? A visitation +of Heaven! Why don't you beat him more? The other day they came and told +tales of him--Agapa said that--" + +"I don't know, either, kind soul, what sort of a boy he is," answered +Mattes, and wrung his bands in desperation. + + * * * * * + +Early next morning Mattes hired a conveyance, and drove Feivke to the +town, to the asylum for the sick poor. The smith's wife came out and saw +them start, and she stood a long while in the doorway by the Mezuzeh. + +And on another fine autumn morning, just when the villagers were +beginning to cart loads of fresh earth to secure the village against +overflowing streams, the village boys told one another the news of +Feivke's death. + + + + +THE LAST OF THEM + + +They had been Rabbonim for generations in the Misnagdic community of +Mouravanke, old, poverty-stricken Mouravanke, crowned with hoary honor, +hidden away in the thick woods. Generation on generation of them had +been renowned far and near, wherever a Jewish word was spoken, wherever +the voice of the Torah rang out in the warm old houses-of-study. + +People talked of them everywhere, as they talk of miracles when miracles +are no more, and of consolation when all hope is long since dead--talked +of them as great-grandchildren talk of the riches of their +great-grandfather, the like of which are now unknown, and of the great +seven-branched, old-fashioned lamp, which he left them as an inheritance +of times gone by. + +For as the lustre of an old, seven-branched lamp shining in the +darkness, such was the lustre of the family of the Rabbonim of +Mouravanke. + +That was long ago, ever so long ago, when Mouravanke lay buried in the +dark Lithuanian forests. The old, low, moss-grown houses were still set +in wide, green gardens, wherein grew beet-root and onions, while the hop +twined itself and clustered thickly along the wooden fencing. Well-to-do +Jews still went about in linen pelisses, and smoked pipes filled with +dry herbs. People got a living out of the woods, where they burnt pitch +the whole week through, and Jewish families ate rye-bread and +groats-pottage. + +A new baby brought no anxiety along with it. People praised God, carried +the pitcher to the well, filled it, and poured a quart of water into the +pottage. The newcomer was one of God's creatures, and was assured of his +portion along with the others. + +And if a Jew had a marriageable daughter, and could not afford a dowry, +he took a stick in his hand, donned a white shirt with a broad mangled +collar, repeated the "Prayer of the Highway," and set off on foot to +Volhynia, that thrice-blessed wonderland, where people talk with a +"Chirik," and eat Challeh with saffron even in the middle of the +week--with saffron, if not with honey. + +There, in Volhynia, on Friday evenings, the rich Jewish householder of +the district walks to and fro leisurely in his brightly lit room. In all +likelihood, he is a short, plump, hairy man, with a broad, fair beard, a +gathered silk sash round his substantial figure, a cheery singsong +"Sholom-Alechem" on his mincing, "chiriky" tongue, and a merry crack of +the thumb. The Lithuanian guest, teacher or preacher, the shrunk and +shrivelled stranger with the piercing black eyes, sits in a corner, +merely moving his lips and gazing at the floor--perhaps because he feels +ill at ease in the bright, nicely-furnished room; perhaps because he is +thinking of his distant home, of his wife and children and his +marriageable daughter; and perhaps because it has suddenly all become +oddly dear to him, his poor, forsaken native place, with its moiling, +poverty-struck Jews, whose week is spent pitch-burning in the forest; +with its old, warm houses-of-study; with its celebrated giants of the +Torah, bending with a candle in their hand over the great hoary +Gemorehs. + +And here, at table, between the tasty stuffed fish and the soup, with +the rich Volhynian "stuffed monkeys," the brusque, tongue-tied guest is +suddenly unable to contain himself, and overflows with talk about his +corner in Lithuania. + +"Whether we have our Rabbis at home?! N-nu!!" + +And thereupon he holds forth grandiloquently, with an ardor and +incisiveness born of the love and the longing at his heart. The piercing +black eyes shoot sparks, as the guest tells of the great men of +Mouravanke, with their fiery intellects, their iron perseverance, who +sit over their books by day and by night. From time to time they take an +hour and a half's doze, falling with their head onto their fists, their +beards sweeping the Gemoreh, the big candle keeping watch overhead and +waking them once more to the study of the Torah. + +At dawn, when the people begin to come in for the Morning Prayer, they +walk round them on tiptoe, giving them their four-ells' distance, and +avoid meeting their look, which is apt to be sharp and burning. + +"That is the way we study in Lithuania!" + +The stout, hairy householder, good-natured and credulous, listens +attentively to the wonderful tales, loosens the sash over his pelisse in +leisurely fashion, unbuttons his waistcoat across his generous waist, +blows out his cheeks, and sways his head from side to side, because--one +may believe anything of the Lithuanians! + +Then, if once in a long, long while the rich Volhynian householder +stumbled, by some miracle or other, into Lithuania, sheer curiosity +would drive him to take a look at the Lithuanian celebrity. But he would +stand before him in trembling and astonishment, as one stands before a +high granite rock, the summit of which can barely be discerned. Is he +terrified by the dark and bushy brows, the keen, penetrating looks, the +deep, stern wrinkles in the forehead that might have been carved in +stone, they are so stiffly fixed? Who can say? Or is he put out of +countenance by the cold, hard assertiveness of their speech, which bores +into the conscience like a gimlet, and knows of no mercy?--for from +between those wrinkles, from beneath those dark brows, shines out the +everlasting glory of the Shechinah. + +Such were the celebrated Rabbonim of Mouravanke. + +They were an old family, a long chain of great men, generation on +generation of tall, well-built, large-boned Jews, all far on in years, +with thick, curly beards. It was very seldom one of these beards showed +a silver hair. They were stern, silent men, who heard and saw +everything, but who expressed themselves mostly by means of their +wrinkles and their eyebrows rather than in words, so that when a +Mouravanke Rav went so far as to say "N-nu," that was enough. + +The dignity of Rav was hereditary among them, descending from father to +son, and, together with the Rabbinical position and the eighteen gulden +a week salary, the son inherited from his father a tall, old +reading-desk, smoked and scorched by the candles, in the old +house-of-study in the corner by the ark, and a thick, heavy-knotted +stick, and an old holiday pelisse of lustrine, the which, if worn on a +bright Sabbath-day in summer-time, shines in the sun, and fairly shouts +to be looked at. + +They arrived in Mouravanke generations ago, when the town was still in +the power of wild highwaymen, called there "Hydemakyes," with huge, +terrifying whiskers and large, savage dogs. One day, on Hoshanah Rabbah, +early in the morning, there entered the house-of-study a tall youth, +evidently village-born and from a long way off, barefoot, with turned-up +trousers, his boots slung on a big, knotted stick across his shoulders, +and a great bundle of big Hoshanos. The youth stood in the centre of the +house-of-study with his mouth open, bewildered, and the boys quickly +snatched his willow branches from him. He was surrounded, stared at, +questioned as to who he was, whence he came, what he wanted. Had he +parents? Was he married? For some time the youth stood silent, with +downcast eyes, then he bethought himself, and answered in three words: +"I want to study!" + +And from that moment he remained in the old building, and people began +to tell wonderful tales of his power of perseverance--of how a tall, +barefoot youth, who came walking from a far distance, had by dint of +determination come to be reckoned among the great men in Israel; of how, +on a winter midnight, he would open the stove doors, and study by the +light of the glowing coals; of how he once forgot food and drink for +three days and three nights running, while he stood over a difficult +legal problem with wrinkled brows, his eyes piercing the page, his +fingers stiffening round the handle of his stick, and he motionless; and +when suddenly he found the solution, he gave a shout "Nu!" and came down +so hard on the desk with his stick that the whole house-of-study shook. +It happened just when the people were standing quite quiet, repeating +the Eighteen Benedictions. + +Then it was told how this same lad became Rav in Mouravanke, how his +genius descended to his children and children's children, till late in +the generations, gathering in might with each generation in turn. They +rose, these giants, one after the other, persistent investigators of the +Law, with high, wrinkled foreheads, dark, bushy brows, a hard, cutting +glance, sharp as steel. + +In those days Mouravanke was illuminated as with seven suns. The +houses-of-study were filled with students; voices, young and old, rang +out over the Gemorehs, sang, wept, and implored. Worried and +tired-looking fathers and uncles would come into the Shools with +blackened faces after the day's pitch-burning, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, range themselves in leisurely mood by the doors and the +stove, cock their ears, and listen, Jewish drivers, who convey people +from one town to another, snatched a minute the first thing in the +morning, and dropped in with their whips under their arms, to hear a +passage in the Gemoreh expounded. And the women, who washed the linen at +the pump in summer-time, beat the wet clothes to the melody of the Torah +that came floating into the street through the open windows, sweet as a +long-expected piece of good news. + +Thus Mouravanke came to be of great renown, because the wondrous power +of the Mouravanke Rabbonim, the power of concentration of thought, grew +from generation to generation. And in those days the old people went +about with a secret whispering, that if there should arise a tenth +generation of the mighty ones, a new thing, please God, would come to +pass among Jews. + +But there was no tenth generation; the ninth of the Mouravanke Rabbonim +was the last of them. + +He had two sons, but there was no luck in the house in his day: the sons +philosophized too much, asked too many questions, took strange paths +that led them far away. + +Once a rumor spread in Mouravanke that the Rav's eldest son had become +celebrated in the great world because of a book he had written, and had +acquired the title of "professor." When the old Rav was told of it, he +at first remained silent, with downcast eyes. Then he lifted them and +ejaculated: + +"Nu!" + +And not a word more. It was only remarked that he grew paler, that his +look was even more piercing, more searching than before. This is all +that was ever said in the town about the Rav's children, for no one +cared to discuss a thing on which the old Rav himself was silent. + +Once, however, on the Great Sabbath, something happened in the spacious +old house-of-study. The Rav was standing by the ark, wrapped in his +Tallis, and expounding to a crowded congregation. He had a clear, +resonant, deep voice, and when he sent it thundering over the heads of +his people, the air seemed to catch fire, and they listened dumbfounded +and spellbound. + +Suddenly the old man stopped in the midst of his exposition, and was +silent. The congregation thrilled with speechless expectation. For a +minute or two the Rav stood with his piercing gaze fixed on the people, +then he deliberately pulled aside the curtain before the ark, opened the +ark doors, and turned to the congregation: + +"Listen, Jews! I know that many of you are thinking of something that +has just occurred to me, too. You wonder how it is that I should set +myself up to expound the Torah to a townful of Jews, when my own +children have cast the Torah behind them. Therefore I now open the ark +and declare to you, Jews, before the holy scrolls of the Law, I have no +children any more. I am the last Rav of our family!" + +Hereupon a piteous wail came from out of the women's Shool, but the +Rav's sonorous voice soon reduced them to silence, and once more the +Torah was being expounded in thunder over the heads of the open-mouthed +assembly. + +Years, a whole decade of them, passed, and still the old Rav walked +erect, and not one silver hair showed in his curly beard, and the town +was still used to see him before daylight, a tall, solitary figure +carrying a stick and a lantern, on his way to the large old Bes +ha-Midrash, to study there in solitude--until Mouravanke began to ring +with the fame of her Charif, her great new scholar. + +He was the son of a poor tailor, a pale, thin youth, with a pointed nose +and two sharp, black eyes, who had gone away at thirteen or so to study +in celebrated, distant academies, whence his name had spread round and +about. People said of him, that he was growing up to be a Light of the +Exile, that with his scholastic achievements he would outwit the acutest +intellects of all past ages; they said that he possessed a brain power +that ground "mountains" of Talmud to powder. News came that a quantity +of prominent Jewish communities had sent messengers, to ask him to come +and be their Rav. + +Mouravanke was stirred to its depths. The householders went about +greatly perturbed, because their Rav was an old man, his days were +numbered, and he had no children to take his place. + +So they came to the old Rav in his house, to ask his advice, whether it +was possible to invite the Mouravanke Charif, the tailor's son, to come +to them, so that he might take the place of the Rav on his death, in a +hundred and twenty years--seeing that the said young Charif was a +scholar distinguished by the acuteness of his intellect the only man +worthy of sitting in the seat of the Mouravanke Rabbonim. + +The old Rav listened to the householders with lowering brows, and never +raised his eyes, and he answered them one word: + +"Nu!" + +So Mouravanke sent a messenger to the young Charif, offering him the +Rabbinate. The messenger was swift, and soon the news spread through the +town that the Charif was approaching. + +When it was time for the householders to go forth out of the town, to +meet the young Charif, the old Rav offered to go with them, and they +took a chair for him to sit in while he waited at the meeting-place. +This was by the wood outside the town, where all through the week the +Jewish townsfolk earned their bread by burning pitch. Begrimed and +toil-worn Jews were continually dropping their work and peeping out +shamefacedly between the tree-stems. + +It was Friday, a clear day in the autumn. She appeared out of a great +cloud of dust--she, the travelling-wagon in which sat the celebrated +young Charif. Sholom-Alechems flew to meet him from every side, and his +old father, the tailor, leant back against a tree, and wept aloud for +joy. + +Now the old Rav declared that he would not allow the Charif to enter the +town till he had heard him, the Charif, expound a portion of the Torah. + +The young man accepted the condition. Men, women, and little children +stood expectant, all eyes were fastened on the tailor's son, all hearts +beat rapidly. + +The Charif expounded the Torah standing in the wagon. At first he looked +fairly scared, and his sharp black eyes darted fearfully hither and +thither over the heads of the silent crowd. Then came a bright idea, and +lit up his face. He began to speak, but his was not the familiar +teaching, such as everyone learns and understands. His words were like +fiery flashes appearing and disappearing one after the other, lightnings +that traverse and illumine half the sky in one second of time, a play of +swords in which there are no words, only the clink and ring of +finely-tempered steel. + +The old Rav sat in his chair leaning on his old, knobbly, knotted stick, +and listened. He heard, but evil thoughts beset him, and deep, hard +wrinkles cut themselves into his forehead. He saw before him the Charif, +the dried-up youth with the sharp eyes and the sharp, pointed nose, and +the evil thought came to him, "Those are needles, a tailor's needles," +while the long, thin forefinger with which the Charif pointed rapidly in +the air seemed a third needle wielded by a tailor in a hurry. + +"You prick more sharply even than your father," is what the old Rav +wanted to say when the Charif ended his sermon, but he did not say it. +The whole assembly was gazing with caught breath at his half-closed +eyelids. The lids never moved, and some thought wonderingly that he had +fallen into a doze from sheer old age. + +Suddenly a strange, dry snap broke the stillness, the old Rav started in +his chair, and when they rushed forward to assist him, they found that +his knotted, knobbly stick had broken in two. + +Pale and bent for the first time, but a tall figure still, the old Rav +stood up among his startled flock. He made a leisurely motion with his +hand in the direction of the town, and remarked quietly to the young +Charif: + +"Nu, now you can go into the town!" + +That Friday night the old Rav came into the house-of-study without his +satin cloak, like a mourner. The congregation saw him lead the young Rav +into the corner near the ark, where he sat him down by the high old +desk, saying: + +"You will sit here." + +He himself went and sat down behind the pulpit among the strangers, the +Sabbath guests. + +For the first minute people were lost in astonishment; the next minute +the house-of-study was filled with wailing. Old and young lifted their +voices in lamentation. The young Rav looked like a child sitting behind +the tall desk, and he shivered and shook as though with fever. + +Then the old Rav stood up to his full height and commanded: + +"People are not to weep!" + +All this happened about the Solemn Days. Mouravanke remembers that time +now, and speaks of it at dusk, when the sky is red as though streaming +with fire, and the men stand about pensive and forlorn, and the women +fold their babies closer in their aprons. + +At the close of the Day of Atonement there was a report that the old Rav +had breathed his last in robe and prayer-scarf. + +The young Charif did not survive him long. He died at his father's the +tailor, and his funeral was on a wet Great Hosannah day. Aged folk said +he had been summoned to face the old Rav in a lawsuit in the Heavenly +Court. + + + + +A FOLK TALE + + + + +THE CLEVER RABBI + + +The power of man's imagination, said my Grandmother, is very great. +Hereby hangs a tale, which, to our sorrow, is a true one, and as clear +as daylight. + +Listen attentively, my dear child, it will interest you very much. + +Not far from this town of ours lived an old Count, who believed that +Jews require blood at Passover, Christian blood, too, for their Passover +cakes. + +The Count, in his brandy distillery, had a Jewish overseer, a very +honest, respectable fellow. + +The Count loved him for his honesty, and was very kind to him, and the +Jew, although he was a simple man and no scholar, was well-disposed, and +served the Count with heart and soul. He would have gone through fire +and water at the Count's bidding, for it is in the nature of a Jew to be +faithful and to love good men. + +The Count often discussed business matters with him, and took pleasure +in hearing about the customs and observances of the Jews. + +One day the Count said to him, "Tell me the truth, do you love me with +your whole heart?" + +"Yes," replied the Jew, "I love you as myself." + +"Not true!" said the Count. "I shall prove to you that you hate me even +unto death." + +"Hold!" cried the Jew. "Why does my lord say such terrible things?" + +The Count smiled and answered: "Let me tell you! I know quite well that +Jews must have Christian blood for their Passover feast. Now, what +would you do if I were the only Christian you could find? You would have +to kill me, because the Rabbis have said so. Indeed, I can scarcely hold +you to blame, since, according to your false notions, the Divine command +is precious, even when it tells us to commit murder. I should be no more +to you than was Isaac to Abraham, when, at God's command, Abraham was +about to slay his only son. Know, however, that the God of Abraham is a +God of mercy and lovingkindness, while the God the Rabbis have created +is full of hatred towards Christians. How, then, can you say that you +love me?" + +The Jew clapped his hands to his head, he tore his hair in his distress +and felt no pain, and with a broken heart he answered the Count, and +said: "How long will you Christians suffer this stain on your pure +hearts? How long will you disgrace yourselves? Does not my lord know +that this is a great lie? I, as a believing Jew, and many besides me, as +believing Jews--we ourselves, I say, with our own hands, grind the corn, +we keep the flour from getting damp or wet with anything, for if only a +little dew drop onto it, it is prohibited for us as though it had yeast. + +"Till the day on which the cakes are baked, we keep the flour as the +apple of our eye. And when the flour is baked, and we are eating the +cakes, even then we are not sure of swallowing it, because if our gums +should begin to bleed, we have to spit the piece out. And in face of all +these stringent regulations against eating the blood of even beasts and +birds, some people say that Jews require human blood for their Passover +cakes, and swear to it as a fact! What does my lord suppose we are +likely to think of such people? We know that they swear falsely--and a +false oath is of all things the worst." + +The Count was touched to the heart by these words, and these two men, +being both upright and without guile, believed one the other. + +The Count believed the Jew, that is, he believed that the Jew did not +know the truth of the matter, because he was poor and untaught, while +the Rabbis all the time most certainly used blood at Passover, only they +kept it a secret from the people. And he said as much to the Jew, who, +in his turn, believed the Count, because he knew him to be an honorable +man. And so it was that he began to have his doubts, and when the Count, +on different occasions, repeated the same words, the Jew said to +himself, that perhaps after all it was partly true, that there must be +something in it--the Count would never tell him a lie! + +And he carried the thought about with him for some time. + +The Jew found increasing favor in his master's eyes. The Count lent him +money to trade with, and God prospered the Jew in everything he +undertook. Thanks to the Count, he grew rich. + +The Jew had a kind heart, and was much given to good works, as is the +way with Jews. + +He was very charitable, and succored all the poor in the neighboring +town. And he assisted the Rabbis and the pious in all the places round +about, and earned for himself a great and beautiful name, for he was +known to all as "the benefactor." + +The Rabbis gave him the honor due to a pious and influential Jew, who is +a wealthy man and charitable into the bargain. + +But the Jew was thinking: + +"Now the Rabbis will let me into the secret which is theirs, and which +they share with those only who are at once pious and rich, that great +and pious Jews must have blood for Passover." + +For a long time he lived in hope, but the Rabbis told him nothing, the +subject was not once mentioned. But the Jew felt sure that the Count +would never have lied to him, and he gave more liberally than before, +thinking, "Perhaps after all it was too little." + +He assisted the Rabbi of the nearest town for a whole year, so that the +Rabbi opened his eyes in astonishment. He gave him more than half of +what is sufficient for a livelihood. + +When it was near Passover, the Jew drove into the little town to visit +the Rabbi, who received him with open arms, and gave him honor as unto +the most powerful and wealthy benefactor. And all the representative men +of the community paid him their respects. + +Thought the Jew, "Now they will tell me of the commandment which it is +not given to every Jew to observe." + +As the Rabbi, however, told him nothing, the Jew remained, to remind the +Rabbi, as it were, of his duty. + +"Rabbi," said the Jew, "I have something very particular to say to you! +Let us go into a room where we two shall be alone." + +So the Rabbi went with him into an empty room, shut the door, and said: + +"Dear friend, what is your wish? Do not be abashed, but speak freely, +and tell me what I can do for you." + +"Dear Rabbi, I am, you must know, already acquainted with the fact that +Jews require blood at Passover. I know also that it is a secret +belonging only to the Rabbis, to very pious Jews, and to the wealthy who +give much alms. And I, who am, as you know, a very charitable and good +Jew, wish also to comply, if only once in my life, with this great +observance. + +"You need not be alarmed, dear Rabbi! I will never betray the secret, +but will make you happy forever, if you will enable me to fulfil so +great a command. + +"If, however, you deny its existence, and declare that Jews do not +require blood, from that moment I become your bitter enemy. + +"And why should I be treated worse than any other pious Jew? I, too, +want to try to perform the great commandment which God gave in secret. I +am not learned in the Law, but a great and wealthy Jew, and one given to +good works, that am I in very truth!" + +You can fancy--said my Grandmother--the Rabbi's horror on hearing such +words from a Jew, a simple countryman. They pierced him to the quick, +like sharp arrows. + +He saw that the Jew believed in all sincerity that his coreligionists +used blood at Passover. + +How was he to uproot out of such a simple heart the weeds sown there by +evil men? + +The Rabbi saw that words would just then be useless. + +A beautiful thought came to him, and he said: "So be it, dear friend! +Come into the synagogue to-morrow at this time, and I will grant your +request. But till then you must fast, and you must not sleep all night, +but watch in prayer, for this is a very grave and dreadful thing." + +The Jew went away full of gladness, and did as the Rabbi had told him. +Next day, at the appointed time, he came again, wan with hunger and lack +of sleep. + +The Rabbi took the key of the synagogue, and they went in there +together. In the synagogue all was quiet. + +The Rabbi put on a prayer-scarf and a robe, lighted some black candles, +threw off his shoes, took the Jew by the hand, and led him up to the +ark. + +The Rabbi opened the ark, took out a scroll of the Law, and said: + +"You know that for us Jews the scroll of the Law is the most sacred of +all things, and that the list of denunciations occurs in it twice. + +"I swear to you by the scroll of the Law: If any Jew, whosoever he be, +requires blood at Passover, may all the curses contained in the two +lists of denunciations be on my head, and on the head of my whole +family!" + +The Jew was greatly startled. + +He knew that the Rabbi had never before sworn an oath, and now, for his +sake, he had sworn an oath so dreadful! + +The Jew wept much, and said: + +"Dear Rabbi, I have sinned before God and before you. I pray you, pardon +me and give me a hard penance, as hard as you please. I will perform it +willingly, and may God forgive me likewise!" + +The Rabbi comforted him, and told no one what had happened, he only told +a few very near relations, just to show them how people can be talked +into believing the greatest foolishness and the most wicked lies. + +May God--said my Grandmother--open the eyes of all who accuse us +falsely, that they may see how useless it is to trump up against us +things that never were seen or heard. + +Jews will be Jews while the world lasts, and they will become, through +suffering, better Jews with more Jewish hearts. + + + + +GLOSSARY AND NOTES + +[Abbreviations: Dimin. = diminutive; Ger. = German, corrupt German, and +Yiddish; Heb. = Hebrew, and Aramaic; pl. = plural; Russ. = Russian; +Slav. = Slavic; trl. = translation. + +Pronunciation: The transliteration of the Hebrew words attempts to +reproduce the colloquial "German" (Ashkenazic) pronunciation. _Ch_ is +pronounced as in the German _Dach_.] + + +ADDITIONAL SERVICE. _See_ EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. + +AL-CHET (Heb.). "For the sin"; the first two words of each line of an +Atonement Day prayer, at every mention of which the worshipper beats the +left side of his breast with his right fist. + +ALEF-BES (Heb.). The Hebrew alphabet. + +ASHRÉ (Heb.). The first word of a Psalm verse used repeatedly in the +liturgy. + +ÄUS KLEMENKE! (Ger.). Klemenke is done for! + +AZOI (= Ger. also). That's the way it is! + +BADCHEN (Heb.). A wedding minstrel, whose quips often convey a moral +lesson to the bridal couple, each of whom he addresses separately. + +BAR-MITZVEH (Heb.). A boy of thirteen, the age of religious majority. + +BAS-KOL (Heb.). "The Daughter of the Voice"; an echo; a voice from +Heaven. + +BEIGEL (Ger.). Ring-shaped roll. + +BES HA-MIDRASH (Heb.). House-of-study, used for prayers, too. + +BITTUL-TORAH (Heb.). Interference with religious study. + +BOBBE (Slav.). Grandmother; midwife. + +BORSHTSH (Russ.). Sour soup made of beet-root. + +CANTONIST (Ger.). Jewish soldier under Czar Nicholas I, torn from his +parents as a child, and forcibly estranged from Judaism. + +CHALLEH (Heb.). Loaves of bread prepared for the Sabbath, over which the +blessing is said; always made of wheat flour, and sometimes yellowed +with saffron. + +CHARIF (Heb.). A Talmudic scholar and dialectician. + +CHASSIDIM (sing. Chossid) (Heb.). "Pious ones"; followers of Israel Baal +Shem, who opposed the sophisticated intellectualism of the Talmudists, +and laid stress on emotionalism in prayer and in the performance of +other religious ceremonies. The Chassidic leader is called Tzaddik +("righteous one"), or Rebbe. _See_ art. "Hasidim," in the Jewish +Encyclopedia, vol. vi. + +CHAYYÉ ODOM. A manual of religious practice used extensively by the +common people. + +CHEDER (pl. Chedorim) (Heb.). Jewish primary school. + +CHILLUL HA-SHEM (Heb.). "Desecration of the Holy Name"; hence, scandal. + +CHIRIK (Heb.). Name of the vowel "i"; in Volhynia "u" is pronounced like +"i." + +DAVVENING. Saying prayers. + +DAYAN (pl. Dayonim) (Heb.). Authority on Jewish religious law, usually +assistant to the Rabbi of a town. + +DIN TORAH (Heb.). Lawsuit. + +DREIER, DREIERLECH (Ger.). A small coin. + +EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. The nucleus of each of the three daily services, +morning, afternoon, evening, and of the "Additional Service" inserted on +Sabbaths, festivals, and the Holy Days, between the morning and +afternoon services. Though the number of benedictions is actually +nineteen, and at some of the services is reduced to seven, the technical +designation remains "Eighteen Benedictions." They are usually said as a +"silent prayer" by the congregation, and then recited aloud by the +cantor, or precentor. + +ERETZ YISROEL (Heb.). Palestine. + +EREV (Heb.). Eve. + +ERUV (Heb.). A cord, etc., stretched round a town, to mark the limit +beyond which no "burden" may be carried on the Sabbath. + +FAST OF ESTHER. A fast day preceding Purim, the Feast of Esther. + +"FOUNTAIN OF JACOB." A collection of all the legends, tales, apologues, +parables, etc., in the Babylonian Talmud. + +FOUR-CORNERS (trl. of Arba Kanfos). A fringed garment worn under the +ordinary clothes; called also Tallis-koton. _See_ Deut. xxii. 12. + +FOUR ELLS. Minimum space required by a human being. + +FOUR QUESTIONS. Put by the youngest child to his father at the Seder. + +GANZE GOYIM (Ger. and Heb.). Wholly estranged from Jewish life and +customs. _See_ Goi. + +GASS (Ger.). The Jews' street. + +GEHENNA (Heb.). The nether world; hell. + +GEMOREH (Heb.). The Talmud, the Rabbinical discussion and elaboration of +the Mishnah; a Talmud folio. It is usually read with a peculiar singsong +chant, and the reading of argumentative passages is accompanied by a +gesture with the thumb. _See, for instance_, pp. 17 and 338. + +GEMOREH-KÖPLECH (Heb. and Ger.). A subtle, keen mind; precocious. + +GEVIR (Heb.). An influential, rich man.--GEVIRISH, appertaining to a +Gevir. + +GOI (pl. Goyim) (Heb.). A Gentile; a Jew estranged from Jewish life and +customs. + +GOTTINYU (Ger. with Slav. ending). Dear God. + +GREAT SABBATH, THE. The Sabbath preceding Passover. + +HAGGADAH (Heb.). The story of the Exodus recited at the home service on +the first two evenings of Passover. + +HOSHANAH (pl. Hoshanos) (Heb.). Osier withe for the Great Hosannah. + +HOSHANAH-RABBAH (Heb.). The seventh day of the Feast of Tabernacles; the +Great Hosannah. + +HOSTRE CHASSIDIM. Followers of the Rebbe or Tzaddik who lived at +Hostre. + +KADDISH (Heb.). Sanctification, or doxology, recited by mourners, +specifically by children in memory of parents during the first eleven +months after their death, and thereafter on every anniversary of the day +of their death; applied to an only son, on whom will devolve the duty of +reciting the prayer on the death of his parents; sometimes applied to +the oldest son, and to sons in general. + +KALLEH (Heb.) Bride. + +KALLEH-LEBEN (Heb. and Ger.). Dear bride. + +KALLEHSHI (Heb. and Russ. dimin.). Dear bride. + +KASHA (Slav.). Pap. + +KEDUSHAH (Heb.). Sanctification; the central part of the public service, +of which the "Holy, holy, holy," forms a sentence. + +KERBEL, KERBLECH (Ger.). A ruble. + +KIDDUSH (Heb.). Sanctification; blessing recited over wine in ushering +in Sabbaths and holidays. + +KLAUS (Ger.). "Hermitage"; a conventicle; a house-of-study. + +KOB TEBI BIESSI (Little Russ.) "Demons take you!" + +KOL NIDRÉ (Heb.). The first prayer recited at the synagogue on the Eve +of the Day of Atonement. + +KOSHER (Heb.). Ritually clean or permitted. + +KOSHER-TANZ (Heb. and Ger.). Bride's dance. + +KÖST (Ger.). Board.--AUF KÖST. Free board and lodging given to a man and +his wife by the latter's parents during the early years of his married +life. + +"LEARN." Studying the Talmud, the codes, and the commentaries. + +LE-CHAYYIM (Heb.). Here's to long life! + +LEHAVDIL (Heb.). "To distinguish." Elliptical for "to distinguish +between the holy and the secular"; equivalent to "excuse the +comparison"; "pardon me for mentioning the two things in the same +breath," etc. + +LIKKUTE ZEVI (Heb.). A collection of prayers. + +LOKSHEN. Macaroni.--TORAS-LOKSHEN, macaroni made in approved style. + +MAARIV (Heb.). The Evening Prayer, or service. + +MAGGID (Heb.). Preacher. + +MAHARSHO (MAHARSHO). Hebrew initial letters of Morenu ha-Rab Shemuel +Edels, a great commentator. + +MALKES (Heb.). Stripes inflicted on the Eve of the Day of Atonement, in +expiation of sins. _See_ Deut. xxv. 2, 3. + +MASKIL (pl. Maskilim) (Heb.). An "intellectual." The aim of the +"intellectuals" was the spread of modern general education among the +Jews, especially in Eastern Europe. They were reproached with +secularizing Hebrew and disregarding the ceremonial law. + +MATZES (Heb.). The unleavened bread used during Passover. + +MECHUTENESTE (Heb.). Mother-in-law; prospective mother-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married. + +MECHUTTON (Heb.). Father-in-law; prospective father-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married. + +MEHEREH (Heb.). The "quick" dough for the Matzes. + +MELAMMED (Heb.). Teacher. + +MEZUZEH (Heb.). "Door-post;" Scripture verses attached to the door-posts +of Jewish houses. _See_ Deut. vi. 9. + +MIDRASH (Heb.). Homiletic exposition of the Scriptures. + +MINCHAH (Heb.). The Afternoon Prayer, or service. + +MIN HA-MEZAR (Heb.). "Out of the depth," Ps. 118. 5. + +MINYAN (Heb.). A company of ten men, the minimum for a public service; +specifically, a temporary congregation, gathered together, usually in a +village, from several neighboring Jewish settlements, for services on +New Year and the Day of Atonement. + +MISHNAH (Heb.). The earliest code (ab. 200 C. E.) after the Pentateuch, +portions of which are studied, during the early days of mourning, in +honor of the dead. + +MISNAGGID (pl. Misnagdim) (Heb.). "Opponents" of the Chassidim. The +Misnagdic communities are led by a Rabbi (pl. Rabbonim), sometimes +called Rav. + +MITZVEH (Heb.). A commandment, a duty, the doing of which is +meritorious. + +NASHERS (Ger.). Gourmets. + +NISHKOSHE (Ger. and Heb.). Never mind! + +NISSAN (Heb.). Spring month (March-April), in which Passover is +celebrated. + +OLENU (Heb.). The concluding prayer in the synagogue service. + +OLOM HA-SHEKER (Heb.). "The world of falsehood," this world. + +OLOM HA-TOHU (Heb.). World of chaos. + +OLOM HO-EMESS (Heb.). "The world of truth," the world-to-come. + +PARNOSSEH (Heb.). Means of livelihood; business; sustenance. + +PIYYUTIM (Heb.). Liturgical poems for festivals and Holy Days recited in +the synagogue. + +PORUSH (Heb.). Recluse. + +PRAYER OF THE HIGHWAY. Prayer on setting out on a journey. + +PRAYER-SCARF. _See_ TALLIS. + +PUD (Russ.). Forty pounds. + +PURIM (Heb.). The Feast of Esther. + +RASHI (RASHI). Hebrew initial letters of Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac, a +great commentator; applied to a certain form of script and type. + +RAV (Heb.). Rabbi. + +REBBE. Sometimes used for Rabbi; sometimes equivalent to Mr.; sometimes +applied to the Tzaddik of the Chassidim; and sometimes used as the title +of a teacher of young children. + +REBBETZIN. Wife of a Rabbi. + +ROSH-YESHIVEH (Rosh ha-Yeshiveh) (Heb.). Headmaster of a Talmudic +Academy. + +SCAPE-FOWLS (trl. of Kapporos). Roosters or hens used in a ceremony on +the Eve of the Day of Atonement. + +SEDER (Heb.). Home service on the first two Passover evenings. + +SELICHES (Heb.). Penitential prayers. + +SEVENTEENTH OF TAMMUZ. Fast in commemoration of the first breach made in +the walls of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. + +SHALOM (Heb. in Sefardic pronunciation). Peace. _See_ SHOLOM ALECHEM. + +SHAMASH (Heb.). Beadle. + +SHECHINAH (Heb.). The Divine Presence. + +SHEGETZ (Heb.). "Abomination;" a sinner; a rascal. + +SHLIMM-MAZEL (Ger. and Heb.). Bad luck; luckless fellow. + +SHMOOREH-MATZES (Heb.). Unleavened bread specially guarded and watched +from the harvesting of the wheat to the baking and storing. + +SHOCHET (Heb.). Ritual slaughterer. + +SHOFAR (Heb.). Ram's horn, sounded on New Year's Day and the Day of +Atonement. _See_ Lev. xxiii. 24. + +SHOLOM (SHALOM) ALECHEM (Heb.). "Peace unto you"; greeting, salutation, +especially to one newly arrived after a journey. + +SHOMER. Pseudonym of a Yiddish author, Nahum M. Schaikewitz. + +SHOOL (Ger., Schul'). Synagogue. + +SHULCHAN ARUCH (Heb.). The Jewish code. + +SILENT PRAYER. _See_ EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. + +SOLEMN DAYS. The ten days from New Year to the Day of Atonement +inclusive. + +SOUL-LIGHTS. Candles lighted in memory of the dead. + +STUFFED MONKEYS. Pastry filled with chopped fruit and spices. + +TALLIS (popular plural formation, Tallesim) (Heb.). The prayer-scarf. + +TALLIS-KOTON (Heb.). _See_ FOUR-CORNERS. + +TALMID-CHOCHEM (Heb.). Sage; scholar. + +TALMUD TORAH (Heb.). Free communal school. + +TANO (Heb.). A Rabbi cited in the Mishnah as an authority. + +TARARAM. Noise; tumult; ado. + +TATE, TATISHE (Ger. and Russ. dimin.). Father. + +TEFILLIN-SÄCKLECH (Heb. and Ger.). Phylacteries bag. + +TISHO-B'OV (Heb.). Ninth of Ab, day of mourning and fasting to +commemorate the destruction of Jerusalem; hence, colloquially, a sad +day. + +TORAH (Heb.). The Jewish Law in general, and the Pentateuch in +particular. + +TSISIN. Season. + +TZADDIK (pl. Tzaddikim) (Heb.). "Righteous"; title of the Chassidic +leader. + +U-MIPNÉ CHATOÉNU (Heb.). "And on account of our sins," the first two +words of a prayer for the restoration of the sacrificial service, +recited in the Additional Service of the Holy Days and the festivals. + +U-NESANNEH-TOIKEF (Heb.). "And we ascribe majesty," the first two words +of a Piyyut recited on New Year and on the Day of Atonement. + +VERFALLEN! (Ger.). Lost; done for. + +VERSHOK (Russ.). Two inches and a quarter. + +VIERER (Ger.). Four kopeks. + +VIVAT. Toast. + +YESHIVEH (Heb.). Talmud Academy. + +YOHRZEIT (Ger.). Anniversary of a death. + +YOM KIPPUR (Heb.). Day of Atonement. + +YOM-TOV (Heb.). Festival. + +ZHYDEK (Little Russ.). Jew. + +P. 15. "It was seldom that parties went 'to law' ... before the +Rav."--The Rabbi with his Dayonim gave civil as well as religious +decisions. + +P. 15. "Milky Sabbath."--All meals without meat. In connection with +fowl, ritual questions frequently arise. + +P. 16. "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow."--Reuben and Simeon are +fictitious plaintiff and defendant in the Talmud; similar to John Doe +and Richard Roe. + +P. 17. "He described a half-circle," etc.--_See under_ GEMOREH. + +P. 57. "Not every one is worthy of both tables!"--Worthy of Torah and +riches. + +P. 117. "They salted the meat."--The ritual ordinance requires that meat +should be salted down for an hour after it has soaked in water for half +an hour. + +P. 150. "Puts off his shoes!"--To pray in stocking-feet is a sign of +mourning and a penance. + +P. 190. "We have trespassed," etc.--The Confession of Sins. + +P. 190. "The beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows," etc.--_see_ +MALKES. + +P. 197. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.--The Introduction to +the solemn Kol Nidré prayer. + +P. 220. "He began to wear the phylacteries and the prayer-scarf," +etc.--They are worn first when a boy is Bar-Mitzveh (_which see_); +Ezrielk was married at the age of thirteen. + +P. 220. "He could not even break the wine-glass," etc.--A marriage +custom. + +P. 220. "Waving of the sacrificial fowls."--_See_ SCAPE-FOWLS. + +P. 220. "The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates."--A betrothal +custom. + +P. 227. "Had a double right to board with their parents +'forever.'"--_See_ Köst. + +P. 271. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.--_See note under_ p. +197. + +P. 273. "Nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead."--_See note under_ p. 547. + +P. 319. "Give me a teacher who can tell," etc.--Reference to the story +of the heathen who asked, first of Shammai, and then of Hillel, to be +taught the whole of the Jewish Law while standing on one leg. + +P. 326. "And those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the +sky."--To look for the appearance of three stars, which indicate +nightfall, and the end of the Sabbath. + +P. 336. "Jeroboam the son of Nebat."--The Rabbinical type for one who +not only sins himself, but induces others to sin, too. + +P. 401. "Thursday."--_See note under_ p. 516. + +P. 403. "Monday," "Wednesday," "Tuesday."--_See note under_ p. 516. + +P. 427. "Six months' 'board.'"--_See_ Köst. + +P. 443. "I knew Hebrew grammar, and could write Hebrew, too."--_See_ +MASKIL. + +P. 445. "A Jeroboam son of Nebat."--_See note under_ p. 336. + +P. 489. "In a snow-white robe."--The head of the house is clad in his +shroud at the Seder on the Passover. + +P. 516. "She knew that on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his 'day'," etc.--At +the houses of well-to-do families meals were furnished to poor students, +each student having a specific day of the week with a given family +throughout the year. + +P. 547. "Why had he brought ... a white shirt-like garment?"--The +worshippers in the synagogue on the Day of Atonement wear shrouds. + +P. 552. "Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?"--_See_ MALKES. + +P. 574. "In a hundred and twenty years."--The age attained by Moses and +Aaron; a good old age. The expression is used when planning for a future +to come after the death of the person spoken to, to imply that there is +no desire to see his days curtailed for the sake of the plan. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yiddish Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 33707-8.txt or 33707-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/7/0/33707/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Yiddish Tales + +Author: Various + +Translator: Helena Frank + +Release Date: September 12, 2010 [EBook #33707] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr /> + +<p><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a></p> + +<h1>YIDDISH TALES</h1> + +<p class="cm">TRANSLATED BY<br /> +HELENA FRANK</p> + +<p><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="100" height="125" alt="colphon" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cm">PHILADELPHIA<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Jewish Publication Society of America</span> +1912<a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a></p> + +<p class="c smcap">Copyright, 1912,<br /> +By the Jewish Publication Society of America</p> + +<p><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h3> + +<p>This little volume is intended to be both companion and complement to +"Stories and Pictures," by I. L. Perez, published by the Jewish +Publication Society of America, in 1906.</p> + +<p>Its object was twofold: to introduce the non-Yiddish reading public to +some of the many other Yiddish writers active in Russian Jewry, and—to +leave it with a more cheerful impression of Yiddish literature than it +receives from Perez alone. Yes, and we have collected, largely from +magazines and papers and unbound booklets, forty-eight tales by twenty +different authors. This, thanks to such kind helpers as Mr. F. Hieger, +of London, without whose aid we should never have been able to collect +the originals of these stories, Mr. Morris Meyer, of London, who most +kindly gave me the magazines, etc., in which some of them were +contained, and Mr. Israel J. Zevin, of New York, that able editor and +delightful <i>feuilletonist</i>, to whose critical knowledge of Yiddish +letters we owe so much.</p> + +<p>Some of these writers, Perez, for example, and Sholom-Alechem, are +familiar by name to many of us already, while the reputation of others +rests, in circles enthusiastic but tragically small, on what they have +written<a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a> in Hebrew.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Such are Berdyczewski, Jehalel, Frischmann, +Berschadski, and the silver-penned Judah Steinberg. On these last two be +peace in the Olom ho-Emess. The Olom ha-Sheker had nothing for them but +struggle and suffering and an early grave.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Berschadski's "Forlorn and Forsaken," Frischmann's "Three +Who Ate," and Steinberg's "A Livelihood" and "At the Matzes," though +here translated from the Yiddish versions, were probably written in +Hebrew originally. In the case of the former two, it would seem that the +Yiddish version was made by the authors themselves, and the same may be +true of Steinberg's tales, too.</p></div> + +<p>The tales given here are by no means all equal in literary merit, but +they have each its special note, its special echo from that strangely +fascinating world so often quoted, so little understood (we say it +against ourselves), the Russian Ghetto—a world in the passing, but +whose more precious elements, shining, for all who care to see them, +through every page of these unpretending tales, and mixed with less and +less of what has made their misfortune, will surely live on, free, on +the one hand, to blend with all and everything akin to them, and free, +on the other, to develop along their own lines—and this year here, next +year in Jerusalem.</p> + +<p>The American sketches by Zevin and S. Libin differ from the others only +in their scene of action. Lerner's were drawn from the life in a little +town in Bessarabia, the others are mostly Polish. And the folk tale, +which is taken from Joshua Meisach's collection, published in Wilna in +1905, with the title Ma'asiyos vun der Baben, oder Nissim ve-Niflo'os, +might have sprung from almost any Ghetto of the Old World.<a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a></p> + +<p>We sincerely regret that nothing from the pen of the beloved +"Grandfather" of Yiddish story-tellers in print, Abramowitsch (Mendele +Mocher Seforim), was found quite suitable for insertion here, his +writings being chiefly much longer than the type selected for this book. +Neither have we come across anything appropriate to our purpose by +another old favorite, J. Dienesohn. We were, however, able to insert +three tales by the veteran author Mordecai Spektor, whose simple style +and familiar figures go straight to the people's heart.</p> + +<p>With regard to the second half of our object, greater cheerfulness, this +collection is an utter failure. It has variety, on account of the many +different authors, and the originals have wit and humor in plenty, for +wit and humor and an almost passionate playfulness are in the very soul +of the language, but it is not cheerful, and we wonder now how we ever +thought it could be so, if the collective picture given of Jewish life +were, despite its fictitious material, to be anything like a true one. +The drollest of the tales, "Gymnasiye" (we refer to the originals), is +perhaps the saddest, anyhow in point of actuality, seeing that the +Russian Government is planning to make education impossible of +attainment by more and more of the Jewish youth—children given into its +keeping as surely as any others, and for the crushing of whose lives it +will have to answer.</p> + +<p>Well, we have done our best. Among these tales are favorites of ours +which we have not so much as mentioned by name, thus leaving the gentle +reader at liberty to make his own.</p> + +<p class="r">H. F.</p> + +<p class="smcap">London, March, 1911</p> + +<p><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ACKNOWLEDGEMENT" id="ACKNOWLEDGEMENT"></a>ACKNOWLEDGEMENT</h3> + +<p>The Jewish Publication Society of America desires to acknowledge the +valuable aid which Mr. A. S. Freidus, of the Department of Jewish +Literature, in the New York Public Library, extended to it in compiling +the biographical data relating to the authors whose stories appear in +English garb in the present volume. Some of the authors that are living +in America courteously furnished the Society with the data referring to +their own biographies.</p> + +<p>The following sources have been consulted for the biographies: The +Jewish Encyclopædia; Wiener, History of Yiddish Literature in the +Nineteenth Century; Pinnes, Histoire de la Littérature Judéo-Allemande, +and the Yiddish version of the same, Die Geschichte vun der jüdischer +Literatur; Baal-Mahashabot, Geklibene Schriften; Sefer Zikkaron +le-Sofere Yisrael ha-hayyim ittanu ka-Yom; Eisenstadt, Hakme Yisrael +be-Amerika; the memoirs preceding the collected works of some of the +authors; and scattered articles in European and American Yiddish +periodicals.<a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="contents"> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Preface</span></td><td align="center"><a href="#page_005">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Acknowledgment</span></td><td align="center"><a href="#page_008">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Reuben Asher Braubes</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Misfortune</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_013">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Jehalel (Judah Löb Lewin)</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Earth of Palestine</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_029">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Isaac Löb Perez</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Woman's Wrath</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_055">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Treasure</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_062">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> It Is Well</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_067">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Whence a Proverb</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_073">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mordecai Spektor</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> An Original Strike</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_083">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Gloomy Wedding</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_091">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Poverty</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Sholom-Alechem (Shalom Rabinovitz)</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Clock</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Fishel the Teacher</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> An Easy Fast</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Passover Guest</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_153">153</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Gymnasiye</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_162">162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Eliezer David Rosenthal</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Sabbath</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Yom Kippur</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Isaiah Lerner</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Bertzi Wasserführer</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Ezrielk the Scribe</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_219">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_236">236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Judah Steinberg</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Livelihood</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_251">251</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> At the Matzes</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_259">259</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">David Frischmann</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Three Who Ate</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_269">269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Micha Joseph Berdyczewski</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Military Service</td><td align="left">281<a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Isaiah Berschadski</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Forlorn and Forsaken</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_295">295</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Tashrak (Israel Joseph Zevin)</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Hole in a Beigel</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_309">309</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> As the Years Roll On</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_312">312</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">David Pinski</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Reb Shloimeh</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_319">319</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">S. Libin (Israel Hubewitz</span>)</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Picnic</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_357">357</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Manasseh</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Yohrzeit for Mother</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_371">371</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Slack Times They Sleep</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_377">377</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Abraham Raisin</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Shut In</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_385">385</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Charitable Loan</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_389">389</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Two Brothers</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_397">397</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Lost His Voice</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_405">405</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Late</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_415">415</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Kaddish</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_421">421</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Avròhom the Orchard-Keeper</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_427">427</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Hirsh David Naumberg</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Rav and the Rav's Son</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_435">435</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Meyer Blinkin</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Women</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_449">449</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Löb Schapiro</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> If It Was a Dream</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_481">481</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Shalom Asch</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Simple Story</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_493">493</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Jewish Child</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_506">506</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> A Scholar's Mother</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_514">514</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Sinner</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_529">529</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Isaac Dob Berkowitz</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Country Folk</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_543">543</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Last of Them</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_566">566</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Folk Tale</span></td><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The Clever Rabbi</td><td align="center"><a href="#page_581">581</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Glossary and Notes</span></td><td align="center"><a href="#page_589">589</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<h3><a name="REUBEN_ASHER_BRAUDES" id="REUBEN_ASHER_BRAUDES"></a>REUBEN ASHER BRAUDES</h3> + +<p>Born, 1851, in Wilna (Lithuania), White Russia; went to Roumania +after the anti-Jewish riots of 1882, and published a Yiddish +weekly, Yehudit, in the interest of Zionism; expelled from +Roumania; published a Hebrew weekly, Ha-Zeman, in Cracow, in 1891; +then co-editor of the Yiddish edition of Die Welt, the official +organ of Zionism; Hebrew critic, publicist, and novelist; +contributor to Ha-Lebanon (at eighteen), Ha-Shahar, Ha-Boker Or, +and other periodicals; chief work, the novel "Religion and Life."</p> + +<p><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_MISFORTUNE" id="THE_MISFORTUNE"></a>THE MISFORTUNE</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Or How the Rav of Pumpian Tried To Solve A Social Problem</span></h4> + +<p>Pumpian is a little town in Lithuania, a Jewish town. It lies far away +from the highway, among villages reached by the Polish Road. The +inhabitants of Pumpian are poor people, who get a scanty living from the +peasants that come into the town to make purchases, or else the Jews go +out to them with great bundles on their shoulders and sell them every +sort of small ware, in return for a little corn, or potatoes, etc. +Strangers, passing through, are seldom seen there, and if by any chance +a strange person arrives, it is a great wonder and rarity. People peep +at him through all the little windows, elderly men venture out to bid +him welcome, while boys and youths hang about in the street and stare at +him. The women and girls blush and glance at him sideways, and he is the +one subject of conversation: "Who can that be? People don't just set off +and come like that—there must be something behind it." And in the +house-of-study, between Afternoon and Evening Prayer, they gather +closely round the elder men, who have been to greet the stranger, to +find out who and what the latter may be.</p> + +<p>Fifty or sixty years ago, when what I am about to tell you happened, +communication between Pumpian and the rest of the world was very +restricted indeed: there were as yet no railways, there was no +telegraph, the<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a> postal service was slow and intermittent. People came +and went less often, a journey was a great undertaking, and there were +not many outsiders to be found even in the larger towns. Every town was +a town to itself, apart, and Pumpian constituted a little world of its +own, which had nothing to do with the world at large, and lived its own +life.</p> + +<p>Neither were there so many newspapers then, anywhere, to muddle people's +heads every day of the week, stirring up questions, so that people +should have something to talk about, and the Jews had no papers of their +own at all, and only heard "news" and "what was going on in the world" +in the house-of-study or (lehavdil!) in the bath-house. And what sort of +news was it <i>then</i>? What sort could it be? World-stirring questions +hardly existed (certainly Pumpian was ignorant of them): politics, +economics, statistics, capital, social problems, all these words, now on +the lips of every boy and girl, were then all but unknown even in the +great world, let alone among us Jews, and let alone to Reb Nochumtzi, +the Pumpian Rav!</p> + +<p>And yet Reb Nochumtzi had a certain amount of worldly wisdom of his own.</p> + +<p>Reb Nochumtzi was a native of Pumpian, and had inherited his position +there from his father. He had been an only son, made much of by his +parents (hence the pet name Nochumtzi clinging to him even in his old +age), and never let out of their sight. When he had grown up, they +connected him by marriage with the tenant of an estate not far from the +town, but his father would not hear of his going there "auf Köst,"<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a> as +the custom is. "I cannot be parted from my Nochumtzi even for a minute," +explained the old Rav, "I cannot bear him out of my sight. Besides, we +study together." And, in point of fact, they did study together day and +night. It was evident that the Rav was determined his Nochumtzi should +become Rav in Pumpian after his death—and so he became.</p> + +<p>He had been Rav some years in the little town, receiving the same five +Polish gulden a week salary as his father (on whom be peace!), and he +sat and studied and thought. He had nothing much to do in the way of +exercising authority: the town was very quiet, the people orderly, there +were no quarrels, and it was seldom that parties went "to law" with one +another before the Rav; still less often was there a ritual question to +settle: the folk were poor, there was no meat cooked in a Jewish house +from one Friday to another, when one must have a bit of meat in honor of +Sabbath. Fish was a rarity, and in summer time people often had a "milky +Sabbath," as well as a milky week. How should there be "questions"? So +he sat and studied and thought, and he was very fond indeed of thinking +about the world!</p> + +<p>It is true that he sat all day in his room, that he had never in all his +life been so much as "four ells" outside the town, that it had never so +much as occurred to him to drive about a little in any direction, for, +after all, whither should he drive? And why drive anywhither? And yet he +knew the world, like any other learned man, a disciple of the wise. +Everything is in the Torah, and out of the Torah, out of the Gemoreh, +and out of<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a> all the other sacred books, Reb Nochumtzi had learned to +know the world also. He knew that "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow," that +"a spark from a smith's hammer can burn a wagon-load of hay," that "Reb +Eliezer ben Charsum had a thousand towns on land and a thousand ships on +the sea." Ha, that was a fortune! He must have been nearly as rich as +Rothschild (they knew about Rothschild even in Pumpian!). "Yes, he was a +rich Tano and no mistake!" he reflected, and was straightway sunk in the +consideration of the subject of rich and poor.</p> + +<p>He knew from the holy books that to be rich is a pure misfortune. King +Solomon, who was certainly a great sage, prayed to God: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li!—"Give me neither poverty nor <i>riches</i>!" He said that +"riches are stored to the hurt of their owner," and in the holy Gemoreh +there is a passage which says, "Poverty becomes a Jew as scarlet reins +become a white horse," and once a sage had been in Heaven for a short +time and had come back again, and he said that he had seen poor people +there occupying the principal seats in the Garden of Eden, and the rich +pushed right away, back into a corner by the door. And as for the books +of exhortation, there are things written that make you shudder in every +limb. The punishments meted out to the rich by God in that world, the +world of truth, are no joke. For what bit of merit they have, God +rewards them in <i>this</i> poor world, the world of vanity, while yonder, in +the world of truth, they arrive stript and naked, without so much as a +taste of Kingdom-come!<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a></p> + +<p>"Consequently, the question is," thought Reb Nochumtzi, "why should +they, the rich, want to keep this misfortune? Of what use is this +misfortune to them? Who so mad as to take such a piece of misfortune +into his house and keep it there? How can anyone take the world-to-come +in both hands and lose it for the sake of such vanities?"</p> + +<p>He thought and thought, and thought it over again:</p> + +<p>"What is a poor creature to do when God sends him the misfortune of +riches? He would certainly wish to get rid of them, only who would take +his misfortune to please him? Who would free another from a curse and +take it upon himself?</p> + +<p>"But, after all ... ha?" the Evil Spirit muttered inside him.</p> + +<p>"What a fool you are!" thought Reb Nochumtzi again. "If" (and he +described a half-circle downward in the air with his thumb), "if +troubles come to us, such as an illness (may the Merciful protect us!), +or some other misfortune of the kind, it is expressly stated in the +Sacred Writings that it is an expiation for sin, a torment sent into the +world, so that we may be purified by it, and made fit to go straight to +Paradise. And because it is God who afflicts men with these things, we +cannot give them away to anyone else, but have to bear with them. Now, +such a misfortune as being rich, which is also a visitation of God, must +certainly be borne with like the rest.</p> + +<p>"And, besides," he reflected further, "the fool who would take the +misfortune to himself, doesn't exist!<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a> What healthy man in his senses +would get into a sick-bed?"</p> + +<p>He began to feel very sorry for Reb Eliezer ben Charsum with his +thousand towns and his thousand ships. "To think that such a saint, such +a Tano, one of the authors of the holy Mishnah, should incur such a +severe punishment!</p> + +<p>"But he stood the trial! Despite this great misfortune, he remained a +saint and a Tano to the end, and the holy Gemoreh says particularly that +he thereby put to shame all the rich people, who go straight to +Gehenna."</p> + +<p>Thus Reb Nochumtzi, the Pumpian Rav, sat over the Talmud and reflected +continually on the problem of great riches. He knew the world through +the Holy Scriptures, and was persuaded that riches were a terrible +misfortune, which had to be borne, because no one would consent to +taking it from another, and bearing it for him.</p> + +<p class="top5">Again many years passed, and Reb Nochumtzi gradually came to see that +poverty also is a misfortune, and out of his own experience.</p> + +<p>His Sabbath cloak began to look threadbare (the weekday one was already +patched on every side), he had six little children living, one or two of +the girls were grown up, and it was time to think of settling them, and +they hadn't a frock fit to put on. The five Polish gulden a week salary +was not enough to keep them in bread, and the wife, poor thing, wept the +whole day through: "Well, there, ich wie ich, it isn't for myself—but +the poor children are naked and barefoot."<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a></p> + +<p>At last they were even short of bread.</p> + +<p>"Nochumtzi! Why don't you speak?" exclaimed his wife with tears in her +eyes. "Nochumtzi, can't you hear me? I tell you, we're starving! The +children are skin and bone, they haven't a shirt to their back, they can +hardly keep body and soul together. Think of a way out of it, invent +something to help us!"</p> + +<p>And Reb Nochumtzi sat and considered.</p> + +<p>He was considering the other misfortune—poverty.</p> + +<p>"It is equally a misfortune to be really very poor."</p> + +<p>And this also he found stated in the Holy Scriptures.</p> + +<p>It was King Solomon, the famous sage, who prayed as well: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li, that is, "Give me neither <i>poverty</i> nor riches." Aha! +poverty is no advantage, either, and what does the holy Gemoreh say but +"Poverty diverts a man from the way of God"? In fact, there is a second +misfortune in the world, and one he knows very well, one with which he +has a practical, working acquaintance, he and his wife and his children.</p> + +<p>And Reb Nochum pursued his train of thought:</p> + +<p>"So there are two contrary misfortunes in the world: this way it's bad, +and that way it's bitter! Is there really no remedy? Can no one suggest +any help?"</p> + +<p>And Reb Nochumtzi began to pace the room up and down, lost in thought, +bending his whole mind to the subject. A whole flight of Bible texts +went through his head, a quantity of quotations from the Gemoreh, +hundreds of stories and anecdotes from the "Fountain of Jacob," the +Midrash, and other books, telling of rich and poor, fortunate and +unfortunate people, till his<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> head went round with them all as he +thought. Suddenly he stood still in the middle of the room, and began +talking to himself:</p> + +<p>"Aha! Perhaps I've discovered a plan after all! And a good plan, too, +upon my word it is! Once more: it is quite certain that there will +always be more poor than rich—lots more! Well, and it's quite certain +that every rich man would like to be rid of his misfortune, only that +there is no one willing to take it from him—no <i>one</i>, not any <i>one</i>, of +course not. Nobody would be so mad. But we have to find out a way by +which <i>lots and lots</i> of people should rid him of his misfortune little +by little. What do you say to that? Once more: that means that we must +take his unfortunate riches and divide them among a quantity of poor! +That will be a good thing for both parties: he will be easily rid of his +great misfortune, and they would be helped, too, and the petition of +King Solomon would be established, when he said, 'Give me neither +poverty nor riches.' It would come true of them all, there would be no +riches and no poverty. Ha? What do you think of it? Isn't it really and +truly an excellent idea?"</p> + +<p>Reb Nochumtzi was quite astonished himself at the plan he had invented, +cold perspiration ran down his face, his eyes shone brighter, a happy +smile played on his lips. "That's the thing to do!" he explained aloud, +sat down by the table, blew his nose, wiped his face, and felt very +glad.</p> + +<p>"There is only one difficulty about it," occurred to him, when he had +quieted down a little from his excitement, "one thing that doesn't fit +in. It says particularly<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> in the Torah that there will always be poor +people among the Jews, 'the poor shall not cease out of the land.' There +must always be poor, and this would make an end of them altogether! +Besides, the precept concerning charity would, Heaven forbid, be +annulled, the precept which God, blessed is He, wrote in the Torah, and +which the holy Gemoreh and all the other holy books make so much of. +What is to become of the whole treatise on charity in the Shulchan +Aruch? How can we continue to fulfil it?"</p> + +<p>But a good head is never at a loss! Reb Nochumtzi soon found a way out +of the difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Never mind!" and he wrinkled his forehead, and pondered on. "There is +no fear! Who said that even the whole of the money in the possession of +a few unfortunate rich men will be enough to go round? That there will +be just enough to help all the Jewish poor? No fear, there will be +enough poor left for the exercise of charity. Ai wos? There is another +thing: to whom shall be given and to whom not? Ha, that's a detail, too. +Of course, one would begin with the learned and the poor scholars and +sages, who have to live on the Torah and on Divine Service. The people +can just be left to go on as it is. No fear, but it will be all right!"</p> + +<p>At last the plan was ready. Reb Nochumtzi thought it over once more, +very carefully, found it complete from every point of view, and gave +himself up to a feeling of satisfaction and delight.</p> + +<p>"Dvoireh!" he called to his wife, "Dvoireh, don't cry! Please God, it +will be all right, quite all right. I've<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a> thought out a plan.... A +little patience, and it will all come right!"</p> + +<p>"Whatever? What sort of plan?"</p> + +<p>"There, there, wait and see and hold your tongue! No woman's brain could +take it in. You leave it to me, it will be all right!"</p> + +<p>And Reb Nochumtzi reflected further:</p> + +<p>"Yes, the plan is a good one. Only, how is it to be carried out? With +whom am I to begin?"</p> + +<p>And he thought of all the householders in Pumpian, but—there was not +one single unfortunate man among them! That is, not one of them had +money, a real lot of money; there was nobody with whom to discuss his +invention to any purpose.</p> + +<p>"If so, I shall have to drive to one of the large towns!"</p> + +<p>And one Sabbath the beadle gave out in the house-of-study that the Rav +begged them all to be present that evening at a convocation.</p> + +<p>At the said convocation the Rav unfolded his whole plan to the people, +and placed before them the happiness that would result for the whole +world, if it were to be realized. But first of all he must journey to a +large town, in which there were a great many unfortunate rich people, +preferably Wilna, and he demanded of his flock that they should furnish +him with the necessary means for getting there.</p> + +<p>The audience did not take long to reflect, they agreed to the Rav's +proposal, collected a few rubles (for who would not give their last +farthing for such an important object?), and on Sunday morning early +they hired him<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a> a peasant's cart and horse—and the Rav drove away to +Wilna.</p> + +<p>The Rav passed the drive marshalling his arguments, settling on what he +should say, and how he should explain himself, and he was delighted to +see how, the more deeply he pondered his plan, the more he thought it +out, the more efficient and appropriate it appeared, and the clearer he +saw what happiness it would bestow on men all the world over.</p> + +<p>The small cart arrived at Wilna.</p> + +<p>"Whither are we to drive?" asked the peasant.</p> + +<p>"Whither? To a Jew," answered the Rav. "For where is the Jew who will +not give me a night's lodging?"</p> + +<p>"And I, with my cart and horse?"</p> + +<p>The Rav sat perplexed, but a Jew passing by heard the conversation, and +explained to him that Wilna is not Pumpian, and that they would have to +drive to a post-house, or an inn.</p> + +<p>"Be it so!" said the Rav, and the Jew gave him the address of a place to +which they should drive.</p> + +<p>Wilna! It is certainly not the same thing as Pumpian. Now, for the first +time in his life, the Rav saw whole streets of tall houses, of two and +three stories, all as it were under one roof, and how fine they are, +thought he, with their decorated exteriors!</p> + +<p>"Oi, there live the unfortunate people!" said Reb Nochumtzi to himself. +"I never saw anything like them before! How can they bear such a +misfortune? I shall come to them as an angel of deliverance!"<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a></p> + +<p>He had made up his mind to go to the principal Jewish citizen in Wilna, +only he must be a good scholar, so as to understand what Reb Nochumtzi +had to say to him.</p> + +<p>They advised him to go to the president of the Congregation.</p> + +<p>Every street along which he passed astonished him separately, the +houses, the pavements, the droshkis and carriages, and especially the +people, so beautifully got up with gold watch-chains and rings—he was +quite bewildered, so that he was afraid he might lose his senses, and +forget all his arguments and his reasonings.</p> + +<p>At last he arrived at the president's house.</p> + +<p>"He lives on the first floor." Another surprise! Reb Nochumtzi was +unused to stairs. There was no storied house in all Pumpian! But when +you must, you must! One way and another he managed to arrive at the +first-floor landing, where he opened the door, and said, all in one +breath:</p> + +<p>"I am the Pumpian Rav, and have something to say to the president."</p> + +<p>The president, a handsome old man, very busy just then with some +merchants who had come on business, stood up, greeted him politely, and +opening the door of the reception-room said to him:</p> + +<p>"Please, Rabbi, come in here and wait a little. I shall soon have +finished, and then I will come to you here."</p> + +<p>Expensive furniture, large mirrors, pictures, softly upholstered chairs, +tables, cupboards with shelves full of great silver candlesticks, cups, +knives and forks, a<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> beautiful lamp, and many other small objects, all +of solid silver, wardrobes with carving in different designs; then, +painted walls, a great silver chandelier decorated with cut glass, +fascinating to behold! Reb Nochumtzi actually had tears in his eyes, "To +think of anyone's being so unfortunate—and to have to bear it!"</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, Pumpian Rav?" inquired the president.</p> + +<p>And Reb Nochumtzi, overcome by amazement and enthusiasm, nearly shouted:</p> + +<p>"You are so unfortunate!"</p> + +<p>The president stared at him, shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.</p> + +<p>Then Reb Nochumtzi laid his whole plan before him, the object of his +coming.</p> + +<p>"I will be frank with you," he said in concluding his long speech, "I +had no idea of the extent of the misfortune! To the rescue, men, save +yourselves! Take it to heart, think of what it means to have houses like +these, and all these riches—it is a most terrible misfortune! Now I see +what a reform of the whole world my plan amounts to, what deliverance it +will bring to all men!"</p> + +<p>The president looked him straight in the face: he saw the man was not +mad, but that he had the limited horizon of one born and bred in a small +provincial town and in the atmosphere of the house-of-study.</p> + +<p>He also saw that it would be impossible to convince him by proofs that +his idea was a mistaken one; for a little while he pitied him in +silence, then he hit upon an expedient, and said:<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a></p> + +<p>"You are quite right, Rabbi! Your plan is really a very good one. But I +am only one of many, Wilna is full of such unfortunate people. Everyone +of them must be talked to, and have the thing explained to him. Then, +the other party must be spoken to as well, I mean the poor people, so +that they shall be willing to take their share of the misfortune. That's +not such an easy matter as giving a thing away and getting rid of it."</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course...." agreed Reb Nochumtzi.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Rav of Pumpian, I will undertake the more difficult +part—let us work together! You shall persuade the rich to give away +their misfortune, and I will persuade the poor to take it! Your share of +the work will be the easier, because, after all, everybody wants to be +rid of his misfortune. Do your part, and as soon as you have finished +with the rich, I will arrange for you to be met half-way by the +poor...."</p> + +<p class="top5">History does not tell how far the Rav of Pumpian succeeded in Wilna. +Only this much is certain, the president never saw him again.<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="JEHALEL" id="JEHALEL"></a>JEHALEL</h3> + +<p>Pen name of Judah Löb Lewin; born, 1845, in Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; tutor; treasurer to the Brodski flour mills and their sugar +refinery, at Tomaschpol, Podolia, later in Kieff; began to write in +1860; translator of Beaconsfield's Tancred into Hebrew; Talmudist; +mystic; first Socialist writer in Hebrew; writer, chiefly in Hebrew, of +prose and poetry; contributor to Sholom-Alechem's Jüdische +Volksbibliothek, Ha-Shahar, Ha-Meliz, Ha-Zeflrah, and other +periodicals.</p> + +<p><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="EARTH_OF_PALESTINE" id="EARTH_OF_PALESTINE"></a>EARTH OF PALESTINE</h3> + +<p>As my readers know, I wanted to do a little stroke of business—to sell +the world-to-come. I must tell you that I came out of it very badly, and +might have fallen into some misfortune, if I had had the ware in stock. +It fell on this wise: Nowadays everyone is squeezed and stifled; +Parnosseh is gone to wrack and ruin, and there is no business—I mean, +there <i>is</i> business, only not for us Jews. In such bitter times people +snatch the bread out of each other's mouths; if it is known that someone +has made a find, and started a business, they quickly imitate him; if +that one opens a shop, a second does likewise, and a third, and a +fourth; if this one makes a contract, the other runs and will do it for +less—"Even if I earn nothing, no more will you!"</p> + +<p>When I gave out that I had the world-to-come to sell, lots of people +gave a start, "Aha! a business!" and before they knew what sort of ware +it was, and where it was to be had, they began thinking about a +shop—and there was still greater interest shown on the part of certain +philanthropists, party leaders, public workers, and such-like. They knew +that when I set up trading in the world-to-come, I had announced that my +business was only with the poor. Well, they understood that it was +likely to be profitable, and might give them the chance of licking a +bone or two. There was very soon a great tararam in our little world, +people began inquiring where my goods came from. They surrounded me with +spies, who were to find out what I did at night, what I<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a> did on Sabbath; +they questioned the cook, the market-woman; but in vain, they could not +find out how I came by the world-to-come. And there blazed up a fire of +jealousy and hatred, and they began to inform, to write letters to the +authorities about me. Laban the Yellow and Balaam the Blind (you know +them!) made my boss believe that I do business, that is, that I have +capital, that is—that is—but my employer investigated the matter, and +seeing that my stock in trade was the world-to-come, he laughed, and let +me alone. The townspeople among whom it was my lot to dwell, those good +people who are a great hand at fishing in troubled waters, as soon as +they saw the mud rise, snatched up their implements and set to work, +informing by letter that I was dealing in contraband. There appeared a +red official and swept out a few corners in my house, but without +finding a single specimen bit of the world-to-come, and went away. But I +had no peace even then; every day came a fresh letter informing against +me. My good brothers never ceased work. The pious, orthodox Jews, the +Gemoreh-Köplech, informed, and said I was a swindler, because the +world-to-come is a thing that isn't there, that is neither fish, flesh, +fowl, nor good red herring, and the whole thing was a delusion; the +half-civilized people with long trousers and short earlocks said, on the +contrary, that I was making game of religion, so that before long I had +enough of it from every side, and made the following resolutions: first, +that I would have nothing to do with the world-to-come and such-like +things which the Jews did not understand, although they held them very +precious; secondly, that I would not let myself in<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a> for selling +anything. One of my good friends, an experienced merchant, advised me +rather to buy than to sell: "There are so many to sell, they will +compete with you, inform against you, and behave as no one should. +Buying, on the other hand—if you want to buy, you will be esteemed and +respected, everyone will flatter you, and be ready to sell to you on +credit—everyone is ready to take money, and with very little capital +you can buy the best and most expensive ware." The great thing was to +get a good name, and then, little by little, by means of credit, one +might rise very high.</p> + +<p>So it was settled that I should buy. I had a little money on hand for a +couple of newspaper articles, for which nowadays they pay; I had a bit +of reputation earned by a great many articles in Hebrew, for which I +received quite nice complimentary letters; and, in case of need, there +is a little money owing to me from certain Jewish booksellers of the +Maskilim, for books bought "on commission." Well, I am resolved to buy.</p> + +<p>But what shall I buy? I look round and take note of all the things a man +can buy, and see that I, as a Jew, may not have them; that which I may +buy, no matter where, isn't worth a halfpenny; a thing that is of any +value, I can't have. And I determine to take to the old ware which my +great-great-grandfathers bought, and made a fortune in. My parents and +the whole family wish for it every day. I resolve to buy—you understand +me?—earth of Palestine, and I announce both verbally and in writing to +all my good and bad brothers that I wish to become a purchaser of the +ware.<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a></p> + +<p>Oh, what a commotion it made! Hardly was it known that I wished to buy +Palestinian earth, than there pounced upon me people of whom I had never +thought it possible that they should talk to me, and be in the room with +me. The first to come was a kind of Jew with a green shawl, with white +shoes, a pale face with a red nose, dark eyes, and yellow earlocks. He +commenced unpacking paper and linen bags, out of which he shook a little +sand, and he said to me: "That is from Mother Rachel's grave, from the +Shunammite's grave, from the graves of Huldah the prophetess and +Deborah." Then he shook out the other bags, and mentioned a whole list +of men: from the grave of Enoch, Moses our Teacher, Elijah the Prophet, +Habakkuk, Ezekiel, Jonah, authors of the Talmud, and holy men as many as +there be. He assured me that each kind of sand had its own precious +distinction, and had, of course, its special price. I had not had time +to examine all the bags of sand, when, aha! I got a letter written on +blue paper in Rashi script, in which an unknown well-wisher earnestly +warned me against buying of <i>that</i> Jew, for neither he nor his father +before him had ever been in Palestine, and he had got the sand in K., +from the Andreiyeff Hills yonder, and that if I wished for it, <i>he</i> had +<i>real</i> Palestinian earth, from the Mount of Olives, with a document from +the Palestinian vicegerent, the Brisk Rebbetzin, to the effect that she +had given of this earth even to the eaters of swine's flesh, of whom it +is said, "for their worm shall not die," and they also were saved from +worms. My Palestinian Jew, after reading the letter, called down all bad +dreams upon the head of the Brisk Rebbetzin,<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a> and declared among other +things that she herself was a dreadful worm, who, etc. He assured me +that I ought not to send money to the Brisk Rebbetzin, "May Heaven +defend you! it will be thrown away, as it has been a hundred times +already!" and began once more to praise <i>his</i> wares, his earth, saying +it was a marvel. I answered him that I wanted real earth of Palestine, +<i>earth</i>, not sand out of little bags.</p> + +<p>"Earth, it <i>is</i> earth!" he repeated, and became very angry. "What do you +mean by earth? Am I offering you mud? But that is the way with people +nowadays, when they want something Jewish, there is no pleasing them! +Only" (a thought struck him) "if you want another sort, perhaps from the +field of Machpelah, I can bring you some Palestinian earth that <i>is</i> +earth. Meantime give me something in advance, for, besides everything +else, I am a Palestinian Jew."</p> + +<p>I pushed a coin into his hand, and he went away. Meanwhile the news had +spread, my intention to purchase earth of Palestine had been noised +abroad, and the little town echoed with my name. In the streets, lanes, +and market-place, the talk was all of me and of how "there is no putting +a final value on a Jewish soul: one thought he was one of <i>them</i>, and +now he wants to buy earth of Palestine!" Many of those who met me looked +at me askance, "The same and <i>not</i> the same!" In the synagogue they gave +me the best turn at the Reading of the Law; Jews in shoes and socks +wished me "a good Sabbath" with great heartiness, and a friendly smile: +"Eh-eh-eh! We understand—you are a deep one—you are one of us after +all." In short, they surrounded me,<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a> and nearly carried me on their +shoulders, so that I really became something of a celebrity.</p> + +<p>Yüdel, the "living orphan," worked the hardest. Yüdel is already a man +in years, but everyone calls him the "orphan" on account of what befell +him on a time. His history is very long and interesting, I will tell it +you in brief.</p> + +<p>He has a very distinguished father and a very noble mother, and he is an +only child, of a very frolicsome disposition, on account of which his +father and his mother frequently disagreed; the father used to punish +him and beat him, but the boy hid with his mother. In a word, it came to +this, that his father gave him into the hands of strangers, to be +educated and put into shape. The mother could not do without him, and +fell sick of grief; she became a wreck. Her beautiful house was burnt +long ago through the boy's doing: one day, when a child, he played with +fire, and there was a conflagration, and the neighbors came and built on +the site of her palace, and she, the invalid, lies neglected in a +corner. The father, who has left the house, often wished to rejoin her, +but by no manner of means can they live together without the son, and so +the cast-off child became a "living orphan"; he roams about in the wide +world, comes to a place, and when he has stayed there a little while, +they drive him out, because wherever he comes, he stirs up a commotion. +As is the way with all orphans, he has many fathers, and everyone +directs him, hits him, lectures him; he is always in the way, blamed for +everything, it's always his fault, so that he has got into the habit of +cowering and shrinking<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a> at the mere sight of a stick. Wandering about as +he does, he has copied the manners and customs of strange people, in +every place where he has been; his very character is hardly his own. His +father has tried both to threaten and to persuade him into coming back, +saying they would then all live together as before, but Yüdel has got to +like living from home, he enjoys the scrapes he gets into, and even the +blows they earn for him. No matter how people knock him about, pull his +hair, and draw his blood, the moment they want him to make friendly +advances, there he is again, alert and smiling, turns the world +topsyturvy, and won't hear of going home. It is remarkable that Yüdel, +who is no fool, and has a head for business, the instant people look +kindly on him, imagines they like him, although he has had a thousand +proofs to the contrary. He has lately been of such consequence in the +eyes of the world that they have begun to treat him in a new way, and +they drive him out of every place at once. The poor boy has tried his +best to please, but it was no good, they knocked him about till he was +covered with blood, took every single thing he had, and empty-handed, +naked, hungry, and beaten as he is, they shout at him "Be off!" from +every side. Now he lives in narrow streets, in the small towns, hidden +away in holes and corners. He very often hasn't enough to eat, but he +goes on in his old way, creeps into tight places, dances at all the +weddings, loves to meddle, everything concerns him, and where two come +together, he is the third.</p> + +<p>I have known him a long time, ever since he was a little boy. He always +struck me as being very wild,<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> but I saw that he was of a noble +disposition, only that he had grown rough from living among strangers. I +loved him very much, but in later years he treated me to hot and cold by +turns. I must tell you that when Yüdel had eaten his fill, he was always +very merry, and minded nothing; but when he had been kicked out by his +landlord, and went hungry, then he was angry, and grew violent over +every trifle. He would attack me for nothing at all, we quarrelled and +parted company, that is, I loved him at a distance. When he wasn't just +in my sight, I felt a great pity for him, and a wish to go to him; but +hardly had I met him than he was at the old game again, and I had to +leave him. Now that I was together with him in my native place, I found +him very badly off, he hadn't enough to eat. The town was small and +poor, and he had no means of supporting himself. When I saw him in his +bitter and dark distress, my heart went out to him. But at such times, +as I said before, he is very wild and fanatical. One day, on the Ninth +of Ab, I felt obliged to speak out, and tell him that sitting in socks, +with his forehead on the ground, reciting Lamentations, would do no +good. Yüdel misunderstood me, and thought I was laughing at Jerusalem. +He began to fire up, and he spread reports of me in the town, and when +he saw me in the distance, he would spit out before me. His anger dated +from some time past, because one day I turned him out of my house; he +declared that I was the cause of all his misfortunes, and now that I was +his neighbor, I had resolved to ruin him; he believed that I hated him +and played him false. Why should Yüdel think that?<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> I don't know. +Perhaps he feels one ought to dislike him, or else he is so embittered +that he cannot believe in the kindly feelings of others. However that +may be, Yüdel continued to speak ill of me, and throw mud at me through +the town; crying out all the while that I hadn't a scrap of Jewishness +in me.</p> + +<p>Now that he heard I was buying Palestinian earth, he began by refusing +to believe it, and declared it was a take-in and the trick of an +apostate, for how could a person who laughed at socks on the Ninth of Ab +really want to buy earth of Palestine? But when he saw the green shawls +and the little bags of earth, he went over—a way he has—to the +opposite, the exact opposite. He began to worship me, couldn't praise me +enough, and talked of me in the back streets, so that the women blessed +me aloud. Yüdel was now much given to my company, and often came in to +see me, and was most intimate, although there was no special piousness +about me. I was just the same as before, but Yüdel took this for the +best of signs, and thought it proved me to be of extravagant hidden +piety.</p> + +<p>"There's a Jew for you!" he would cry aloud in the street. "Earth of +Palestine! There's a Jew!"</p> + +<p>In short, he filled the place with my Jewishness and my hidden +orthodoxy. I looked on with indifference, but after a while the affair +began to cost me both time and money.</p> + +<p>The Palestinian beggars and, above all, Yüdel and the townsfolk obtained +for me the reputation of piety, and there came to me orthodox Jews, +treasurers, cabalists, beggar students, and especially the Rebbe's +followers;<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> they came about me like bees. They were never in the habit +of avoiding me, but this was another thing all the same. Before this, +when one of the Rebbe's disciples came, he would enter with a respectful +demeanor, take off his hat, and, sitting in his cap, would fix his gaze +on my mouth with a sweet smile; we both felt that the one and only link +between us lay in the money that I gave and he took. He would take it +gracefully, put it into his purse, as it might be for someone else, and +thank me as though he appreciated my kindness. When <i>I</i> went to see +<i>him</i>, he would place a chair for me, and give me preserve. But now he +came to me with a free and easy manner, asked for a sip of brandy with a +snack to eat, sat in my room as if it were his own, and looked at me as +if I were an underling, and he had authority over me; I am the penitent +sinner, it is said, and that signifies for him the key to the door of +repentance; I have entered into his domain, and he is my lord and +master; he drinks my health as heartily as though it were his own, and +when I press a coin into his hand, he looks at it well, to make sure it +is worth his while accepting it. If I happen to visit him, I am on a +footing with all his followers, the Chassidim; his "trustees," and all +his other hangers-on, are my brothers, and come to me when they please, +with all the mud on their boots, put their hand into my bosom and take +out my tobacco-pouch, and give it as their opinion that the brandy is +weak, not to talk of holidays, especially Purim and Rejoicing of the +Law, when they troop in with a great noise and vociferation, and drink +and dance, and pay as much attention to me as to the cat.<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a></p> + +<p>In fact, all the townsfolk took the same liberties with me. Before, they +asked nothing of me, and took me as they found me, now they began to +<i>demand</i> things of me and to inquire why I didn't do this, and why I did +that, and not the other. Shmuelke the bather asked me why I was never +seen at the bath on Sabbath. Kalmann the butcher wanted to know why, +among the scape-fowls, there wasn't a white one of mine; and even the +beadle of the Klaus, who speaks through his nose, and who had never +dared approach me, came and insisted on giving me the thirty-nine +stripes on the eve of the Day of Atonement: "Eh-eh, if you are a Jew +like other Jews, come and lie down, and you shall be given stripes!"</p> + +<p>And the Palestinian Jews never ceased coming with their bags of earth, +and I never ceased rejecting. One day there came a broad-shouldered Jew +from "over there," with his bag of Palestinian earth. The earth pleased +me, and a conversation took place between us on this wise:</p> + +<p>"How much do you want for your earth?"</p> + +<p>"For my earth? From anyone else I wouldn't take less than thirty rubles, +but from you, knowing you and <i>of</i> you as I do, and as your parents did +so much for Palestine, I will take a twenty-five ruble piece. You must +know that a person buys this once and for all."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," I answered. "Twenty-five rubles! How much +earth have you there?"</p> + +<p>"How much earth have I? About half a quart. There will be enough to +cover the eyes and the face. Perhaps you want to cover the whole body, +to have it underneath and on the top and at the sides? O, I can bring +you<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a> some more, but it will cost you two or three hundred rubles, +because, since the good-for-nothings took to coming to Palestine, the +earth has got very expensive. Believe me, I don't make much by it, it +costs me nearly...."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you, my friend! What's this about bestrewing the +body? What do you mean by it?"</p> + +<p>"How do you mean, 'what do you mean by it?' Bestrewing the body like +that of all honest Jews, after death."</p> + +<p>"Ha? After death? To preserve it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, what else?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want it for that, I don't mind what happens to my body after +death. I want to buy Palestinian earth for my lifetime."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? What good can it do you while you're alive? You are +not talking to the point, or else you are making game of a poor +Palestinian Jew?"</p> + +<p>"I am speaking seriously. I want it now, while I live! What is it you +don't understand?"</p> + +<p>My Palestinian Jew was greatly perplexed, but he quickly collected +himself, and took in the situation. I saw by his artful smile that he +had detected a strain of madness in me, and what should he gain by +leading me into the paths of reason? Rather let him profit by it! And +this he proceeded to do, saying with winning conviction:</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, you are right! How right you are! May I ever see the +like! People are not wrong when they say, 'The apple falls close to the +tree'! You are<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a> drawn to the root, and you love the soil of Palestine, +only in a different way, like your holy forefathers, may they be good +advocates! You are young, and I am old, and I have heard how they used +to bestrew their head-dress with it in their lifetime, so as to fulfil +the Scripture verse, 'And have pity on Zion's dust,' and honest Jews +shake earth of Palestine into their shoes on the eve of the Ninth of Ab, +and at the meal before the fast they dip an egg into Palestinian +earth—nu, fein! I never expected so much of you, and I can say with +truth, 'There's a Jew for you!' Well, in that case, you will require two +pots of the earth, but it will cost you a deal."</p> + +<p>"We are evidently at cross-purposes," I said to him. "What are two +potfuls? What is all this about bestrewing the body? I want to buy +Palestinian earth, earth in Palestine, do you understand? I want to buy, +in Palestine, a little bit of earth, a few dessiatines."</p> + +<p>"Ha? I didn't quite catch it. What did you say?" and my Palestinian Jew +seized hold of his right ear, as though considering what he should do; +then he said cheerfully: "Ha—aha! You mean to secure for yourself a +burial-place, also for after death! O yes, indeed, you are a holy man +and no mistake! Well, you can get that through me, too; give me +something in advance, and I shall manage it for you all right at a +bargain."</p> + +<p>"Why do you go on at me with your 'after death,'" I cried angrily. "I +want a bit of earth in Palestine, I want to dig it, and sow it, and +plant it...."</p> + +<p><a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a>"Ha? What? Sow it and plant it?! That is ... that is ... you only mean +... may all bad dreams!..." and stammering thus, he scraped all the +scattered earth, little by little, into his bag, gradually got nearer +the door, and—was gone!</p> + +<p>It was not long before the town was seething and bubbling like a kettle +on the boil, everyone was upset as though by some misfortune, angry with +me, and still more with himself: "How could we be so mistaken? He +doesn't want to buy Palestinian earth at all, he doesn't care what +happens to him when he's dead, he laughs—he only wants to buy earth +<i>in</i> Palestine, and set up villages there."</p> + +<p>"Eh-eh-eh! He remains one of <i>them</i>! He is what he is—a skeptic!" so +they said in all the streets, all the householders in the town, the +women in the market-place, at the bath, they went about abstracted, and +as furious as though I had insulted them, made fools of them, taken them +in, and all of a sudden they became cold and distant to me. The pious +Jews were seen no more at my house. I received packages from Palestine +one after the other. One had a black seal, on which was scratched a +black ram's horn, and inside, in large characters, was a ban from the +Brisk Rebbetzin, because of my wishing to make all the Jews unhappy. +Other packets were from different Palestinian beggars, who tried to +compel me, with fair words and foul, to send them money for their +travelling expenses and for the samples of earth they enclosed. My +fellow-townspeople also got packages from "over there," warning them +against me—I was a dangerous man, a missionary, and it was a Mitzveh to +be revenged on me. There was an uproar, and no wonder! A letter from +Palestine, written in Rashi,<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> with large seals! In short I was to be put +to shame and confusion. Everyone avoided me, nobody came near me. When +people were obliged to come to me in money matters or to beg an alms, +they entered with deference, and spoke respectfully, in a gentle voice, +as to "one of them," took the alms or the money, and were out of the +door, behind which they abused me, as usual.</p> + +<p>Only Yüdel did not forsake me. Yüdel, the "living orphan," was +bewildered and perplexed. He had plenty of work, flew from one house to +the other, listening, begging, and talebearing, answering and asking +questions; but he could not settle the matter in his own mind: now he +looked at me angrily, and again with pity. He seemed to wish not to meet +me, and yet he sought occasion to do so, and would look earnestly into +my face.</p> + +<p>The excitement of my neighbors and their behavior to me interested me +very little; but I wanted very much to know the reason why I had +suddenly become abhorrent to them? I could by no means understand it.</p> + +<p>Once there came a wild, dark night. The sky was covered with black +clouds, there was a drenching rain and hail and a stormy wind, it was +pitch dark, and it lightened and thundered, as though the world were +turning upside down. The great thunder claps and the hail broke a good +many people's windows, the wind tore at the roofs, and everyone hid +inside his house, or wherever he found a corner. In that dreadful dark +night my door opened, and in came—Yüdel, the "living orphan"; he looked +as though someone were pushing him from behind, driving him along. He +was as white as the wall, cowering, beaten about, helpless as a leaf.<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a> +He came in, and stood by the door, holding his hat; he couldn't decide, +did not know if he should take it off, or not. I had never seen him so +miserable, so despairing, all the time I had known him. I asked him to +sit down, and he seemed a little quieted. I saw that he was soaking wet, +and shivering with cold, and I gave him hot tea, one glass after the +other. He sipped it with great enjoyment. And the sight of him sitting +there sipping and warming himself would have been very comic, only it +was so very sad. The tears came into my eyes. Yüdel began to brighten +up, and was soon Yüdel, his old self, again. I asked him how it was he +had come to me in such a state of gloom and bewilderment? He told me the +thunder and the hail had broken all the window-panes in his lodging, and +the wind had carried away the roof, there was nowhere he could go for +shelter; nobody would let him in at night; there was not a soul he could +turn to, there remained nothing for him but to lie down in the street +and die.</p> + +<p>"And so," he said, "having known you so long, I hoped you would take me +in, although you are 'one of them,' not at all pious, and, so they say, +full of evil intentions against Jews and Jewishness; but I know you are +a good man, and will have compassion on me."</p> + +<p>I forgave Yüdel his rudeness, because I knew him for an outspoken man, +that he was fond of talking, but never did any harm. Seeing him +depressed, I offered him a glass of wine, but he refused it.</p> + +<p>I understood the reason of his refusal, and started a conversation with +him.<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a></p> + +<p>"Tell me, Yüdel heart, how is it I have fallen into such bad repute +among you that you will not even drink a drop of wine in my house? And +why do you say that I am 'one of them,' and not pious? A little while +ago you spoke differently of me."</p> + +<p>"Ett! It just slipped from my tongue, and the truth is you may be what +you please, you are a good man."</p> + +<p>"No, Yüdel, don't try to get out of it! Tell me openly (it doesn't +concern me, but I am curious to know), why this sudden revulsion of +feeling about me, this change of opinion? Tell me, Yüdel, I beg of you, +speak freely!"</p> + +<p>My gentle words and my friendliness gave Yüdel great encouragement. The +poor fellow, with whom not one of "them" has as yet spoken kindly! When +he saw that I meant it, he began to scratch his head; it seemed as if in +that minute he forgave me all my "heresies," and he looked at me kindly, +and as if with pity. Then, seeing that I awaited an answer, he gave a +twist to his earlock, and said gently and sincerely:</p> + +<p>"You wish me to tell you the truth? You insist upon it? You will not be +offended?"</p> + +<p>"You know that I never take offence at anything you say. Say anything +you like, Yüdel heart, only speak."</p> + +<p>"Then I will tell you: the town and everyone else is very angry with you +on account of your Palestinian earth: you want to do something new, buy +earth and plough it and sow—and where? in our land of Israel, in our +Holy Land of Israel!"</p> + +<p>"But why, Yüdel dear, when they thought I was buying Palestinian earth +to bestrew me after death, was I looked upon almost like a saint?"<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a></p> + +<p>"Ê, that's another thing! That showed that you held Palestine holy, for +a land whose soil preserves one against being eaten of worms, like any +other honest Jew."</p> + +<p>"Well, I ask you, Yüdel, what does this mean? When they thought I was +buying sand for after my death, I was a holy man, a lover of Palestine, +and because I want to buy earth and till it, earth in your Holy Land, +our holy earth in the Holy Land, in which our best and greatest counted +it a privilege to live, I am a blot on Israel. Tell me, Yüdel, I ask +you: <i>Why</i>, because one wants to bestrew himself with Palestinian earth +after death, is one an orthodox Jew; and when one desires to give +oneself wholly to Palestine in life, should one be 'one of them'? Now I +ask you—all those Palestinian Jews who came to me with their bags of +sand, and were my very good friends, and full of anxiety to preserve my +body after death, why have they turned against me on hearing that I +wished for a bit of Palestinian earth while I live? Why are they all so +interested and such good brothers to the dead, and such bloodthirsty +enemies to the living? Why, because I wish to provide for my sad +existence, have they noised abroad that I am a missionary, and made up +tales against me? Why? I ask you, why, Yüdel, why?"</p> + +<p>"You ask me? How should I know? I only know that ever since Palestine +was Palestine, people have gone there to die—that I know; but all this +ploughing, sowing, and planting the earth, I never heard of in my life +before."<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, Yüdel, you are right, because it has been so for a long time, you +think so it has to be—that is the real answer to your questions. But +why not think back a little? Why should one only go to Palestine to die? +Is not Palestinian earth fit to <i>live</i> on? On the contrary, it is some +of the very best soil, and when we till it and plant it, we fulfil the +precept to restore the Holy Land, and we also work for ourselves, toward +the realization of an honest and peaceable life. I won't discuss the +matter at length with you to-day. It seems that you have quite forgotten +what all the holy books say about Palestine, and what a precept it is to +till the soil. And another question, touching what you said about +Palestine being only there to go and die in. Tell me, those Palestinian +Jews who were so interested in my death, and brought earth from over +there to bestrew me—tell me, are they also only there to die? Did you +notice how broad and stout they were? Ha? And they, they too, when they +heard I wanted to live there, fell upon me like wild animals, filling +the world with their cries, and made up the most dreadful stories about +me. Well, what do you say, Yüdel? I ask you."</p> + +<p>"Do I know?" said Yüdel, with a wave of the hand. "Is my head there to +think out things like that? But tell me, I beg, what <i>is</i> the good to +you of buying land in Palestine and getting into trouble all round?"</p> + +<p>"You ask, what is the good to me? I want to live, do you hear? I want to +<i>live</i>!"</p> + +<p>"If you can't live without Palestinian earth, why did you not get some +before? Did you never want to live till now?"<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, Yüdel, you are right there. I confess that till now I have lived in +a delusion, I thought I was living; but—what is the saying?—so long as +the thunder is silent...."</p> + +<p>"Some thunder has struck you!" interrupted Yüdel, looking +compassionately into my face.</p> + +<p>"I will put it briefly. You must know, Yüdel, that I have been in +business here for quite a long time. I worked faithfully, and my chief +was pleased with me. I was esteemed and looked up to, and it never +occurred to me that things would change; but bad men could not bear to +see me doing so well, and they worked hard against me, till one day the +business was taken over by my employer's son; and my enemies profited by +the opportunity, to cover me with calumnies from head to foot, spreading +reports about me which it makes one shudder to hear. This went on till +the chief began to look askance at me. At first I got pin-pricks, +malicious hints, then things got worse and worse, and at last they began +to push me about, and one day they turned me out of the house, and threw +me into a hedge. Presently, when I had reviewed the whole situation, I +saw that they could do what they pleased with me. I had no one to rely +on, my onetime good friends kept aloof from me, I had lost all worth in +their eyes; with some because, as is the way with people, they took no +trouble to inquire into the reason of my downfall, but, hearing all that +was said against me, concluded that I was in the wrong; others, again, +because they wished to be agreeable to my enemies; the rest, for reasons +without number. In short, reflecting on all this, I saw the game<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a> was +lost, and there was no saying what might not happen to me! Hitherto I +had borne my troubles patiently, with the courage that is natural to me; +but now I feel my courage giving way, and I am in fear lest I should +fall in my own eyes, in my own estimation, and get to believe that I am +worth nothing. And all this because I must needs resort to <i>them</i>, and +take all the insults they choose to fling at me, and every outcast has +me at his mercy. That is why I want to collect my remaining strength, +and buy a parcel of land in Palestine, and, God helping, I will become a +bit of a householder—do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Why must it be just in Palestine?"</p> + +<p>"Because I may not, and I cannot, buy in anywhere else. I have tried to +find a place elsewhere, but they were afraid I was going to get the +upper hand, so down they came, and made a wreck of it. Over there I +shall be proprietor myself—that is firstly, and secondly, a great many +relations of mine are buried there, in the country where they lived and +died. And although you count me as 'one of them,' I tell you I think a +great deal of 'the merits of the fathers,' and that it is very pleasant +to me to think of living in the land that will remind me of such dear +forefathers. And although it will be hard at first, the recollection of +my ancestors and the thought of providing my children with a corner of +their own and honestly earned bread will give me strength, till I shall +work my way up to something. And I hope I <i>will</i> get to something. +Remember, Yüdel, I believe and I hope! You will see, Yüdel—you know +that our brothers consider Palestinian earth a charm against<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a> being +eaten by worms, and you think that I laugh at it? No, I believe in it! +It is quite, quite true that my Palestinian earth will preserve me from +worms, only not after death, no, but alive—from such worms as devour +and gnaw at and poison the whole of life!"</p> + +<p>Yüdel scratched his nose, gave a rub to the cap on his head, and uttered +a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Yüdel, you sigh! Now do you know what I wanted to say to you?"</p> + +<p>"Ett!" and Yüdel made a gesture with his hand. "What you have to say to +me?—ett!"</p> + +<p>"Oi, that 'ett!' of yours! Yüdel, I know it! When you have nothing to +answer, and you ought to think, and think something out, you take refuge +in 'ett!' Just consider for once, Yüdel, I have a plan for you, too. +Remember what you were, and what has become of you. You have been +knocking about, driven hither and thither, since childhood. You haven't +a house, not a corner, you have become a beggar, a tramp, a nobody, +despised and avoided, with unpleasing habits, and living a dog's life. +You have very good qualities, a clear head, and acute intelligence. But +to what purpose do you put them? You waste your whole intelligence on +getting in at backdoors and coaxing a bit of bread out of the +maidservant, and the mistress is not to know. Can you not devise a +means, with that clever brain of yours, how to earn it for yourself? See +here, I am going to buy a bit of ground in Palestine, come with me, +Yüdel, and you shall work, and be a man like other men. You are what +they call a 'living orphan,' because you have many fathers; and don't +forget that you have <i>one</i> Father<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a> who lives, and who is only waiting +for you to grow better. Well, how much longer are you going to live +among strangers? Till now you haven't thought, and the life suited you, +you have grown used to blows and contumely. But now that—that—none +will let you in, your eyes must have been opened to see your condition, +and you must have begun to wish to be different. Only begin to wish! You +see, I have enough to eat, and yet my position has become hateful to me, +because I have lost my value, and am in danger of losing my humanity. +But you are hungry, and one of these days you will die of starvation out +in the street. Yüdel, do just think it over, for if I am right, you will +get to be like other people. Your Father will see that you have turned +into a man, he will be reconciled with your mother, and you will be 'a +father's child,' as you were before. Brother Yüdel, think it over!"</p> + +<p>I talked to my Yüdel a long, long time. In the meanwhile, the night had +passed. My Yüdel gave a start, as though waking out of a deep slumber, +and went away full of thought.</p> + +<p>On opening the window, I was greeted by a friendly smile from the rising +morning star, as it peeped out between the clouds.</p> + +<p>And it began to dawn.</p> + +<p><a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ISAAC_LOB_PEREZ" id="ISAAC_LOB_PEREZ"></a>ISAAC LÖB PEREZ</h3> + +<p>Born, 1851, in Samoscz, Government of Lublin, Russian Poland; Jewish, +philosophical, and general literary education; practiced law in Samoscz, +a Hasidic town; clerk to the Jewish congregation in Warsaw and as such +collector of statistics on Jewish life; began to write at twenty-five; +contributor to Zedernbaum's Jüdisches Volksblatt; publisher and editor +of Die jüdische Bibliothek (4 vols.), in which he conducted the +scientific department, and wrote all the editorials and book reviews, of +Literatur and Leben, and of Yom-tov Blättlech; now (1912) co-editor of +Der Freind, Warsaw; Hebrew and Yiddish prose writer and poet; +allegorist; collected Hebrew works, 1899-1901; collected Yiddish works, +7 vols., Warsaw and New York, 1909-1912 (in course of publication).</p> + +<p><a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_WOMANS_WRATH" id="A_WOMANS_WRATH"></a>A WOMAN'S WRATH</h3> + +<p>The small room is dingy as the poverty that clings to its walls. There +is a hook fastened to the crumbling ceiling, relic of a departed hanging +lamp. The old, peeling stove is girded about with a coarse sack, and +leans sideways toward its gloomy neighbor, the black, empty fireplace, +in which stands an inverted cooking pot with a chipped rim. Beside it +lies a broken spoon, which met its fate in unequal contest with the +scrapings of cold, stale porridge.</p> + +<p>The room is choked with furniture; there is a four-post bed with torn +curtains. The pillows visible through their holes have no covers.</p> + +<p>There is a cradle, with the large, yellow head of a sleeping child; a +chest with metal fittings and an open padlock—nothing very precious +left in there, evidently; further, a table and three chairs (originally +painted red), a cupboard, now somewhat damaged. Add to these a pail of +clean water and one of dirty water, an oven rake with a shovel, and you +will understand that a pin could hardly drop onto the floor.</p> + +<p>And yet the room contains <i>him</i> and <i>her</i> beside.</p> + +<p><i>She</i>, a middle-aged Jewess, sits on the chest that fills the space +between the bed and the cradle.</p> + +<p>To her right is the one grimy little window, to her left, the table. She +is knitting a sock, rocking the cradle with her foot, and listens to +<i>him</i> reading the Talmud at the table, with a tearful, Wallachian, +singing<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> intonation, and swaying to and fro with a series of nervous +jerks. Some of the words he swallows, others he draws out; now he snaps +at a word, and now he skips it; some he accentuates and dwells on +lovingly, others he rattles out with indifference, like dried peas out +of a bag. And never quiet for a moment. First he draws from his pocket a +once red and whole handkerchief, and wipes his nose and brow, then he +lets it fall into his lap, and begins twisting his earlocks or pulling +at his thin, pointed, faintly grizzled beard. Again, he lays a +pulled-out hair from the same between the leaves of his book, and slaps +his knees. His fingers coming into contact with the handkerchief, they +seize it, and throw a corner in between his teeth; he bites it, lays one +foot across the other, and continually shuffles with both feet.</p> + +<p>All the while his pale forehead wrinkles, now in a perpendicular, now in +a horizontal, direction, when the long eyebrows are nearly lost below +the folds of skin. At times, apparently, he has a sting in the chest, +for he beats his left side as though he were saying the Al-Chets. +Suddenly he leans his head to the left, presses a finger against his +left nostril, and emits an artificial sneeze, leans his head to the +right, and the proceeding is repeated. In between he takes a pinch of +snuff, pulls himself together, his voice rings louder, the chair creaks, +the table wobbles.</p> + +<p>The child does not wake; the sounds are too familiar to disturb it.</p> + +<p>And she, the wife, shrivelled and shrunk before her time, sits and +drinks in delight. She never takes her<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a> eye off her husband, her ear +lets no inflection of his voice escape. Now and then, it is true, she +sighs. Were he as fit for <i>this</i> world as he is for the <i>other</i> world, +she would have a good time of it here, too—here, too—</p> + +<p>"Ma!" she consoles herself, "who talks of honor? Not every one is worthy +of both tables!"</p> + +<p>She listens. Her shrivelled face alters from minute to minute; she is +nervous, too. A moment ago it was eloquent of delight. Now she remembers +it is Thursday, there isn't a dreier to spend in preparation for +Sabbath. The light in her face goes out by degrees, the smile fades, +then she takes a look through the grimy window, glances at the sun. It +must be getting late, and there isn't a spoonful of hot water in the +house. The needles pause in her hand, a shadow has overspread her face. +She looks at the child, it is sleeping less quietly, and will soon wake. +The child is poorly, and there is not a drop of milk for it. The shadow +on her face deepens into gloom, the needles tremble and move +convulsively.</p> + +<p>And when she remembers that it is near Passover, that her ear-rings and +the festal candlesticks are at the pawnshop, the chest empty, the lamp +sold, then the needles perform murderous antics in her fingers. The +gloom on her brow is that of a gathering thunder-storm, lightnings play +in her small, grey, sunken eyes.</p> + +<p>He sits and "learns," unconscious of the charged atmosphere; does not +see her let the sock fall and begin wringing her finger-joints; does not +see that her forehead is puckered with misery, one eye closed, and the +other fixed on him, her learned husband, with a look<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a> fit to send a +chill through his every limb; does not see her dry lips tremble and her +jaw quiver. She controls herself with all her might, but the storm is +gathering fury within her. The least thing, and it will explode.</p> + +<p>That least thing has happened.</p> + +<p>He was just translating a Talmudic phrase with quiet delight, "And +thence we derive that—" He was going on with "three,—" but the word +"derive" was enough, it was the lighted spark, and her heart was the +gunpowder. It was ablaze in an instant. Her determination gave way, the +unlucky word opened the flood-gates, and the waters poured through, +carrying all before them.</p> + +<p>"Derived, you say, derived? O, derived may you be, Lord of the World," +she exclaimed, hoarse with anger, "derived may you be! Yes! You!" she +hissed like a snake. "Passover coming—Thursday—and the child ill—and +not a drop of milk is there. Ha?"</p> + +<p>Her breath gives out, her sunken breast heaves, her eyes flash.</p> + +<p>He sits like one turned to stone. Then, pale and breathless, too, from +fright, he gets up and edges toward the door.</p> + +<p>At the door he turns and faces her, and sees that hand and tongue are +equally helpless from passion; his eyes grow smaller; he catches a bit +of handkerchief between his teeth, retreats a little further, takes a +deeper breath, and mutters:</p> + +<p>"Listen, woman, do you know what Bittul-Torah means? And not letting a +husband study in peace, to<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a> be always worrying about livelihood, ha? And +who feeds the little birds, tell me? Always this want of faith in God, +this giving way to temptation, and taking thought for <i>this</i> world ... +foolish, ill-natured woman! Not to let a husband study! If you don't +take care, you will go to Gehenna."</p> + +<p>Receiving no answer, he grows bolder. Her face gets paler and paler, she +trembles more and more violently, and the paler she becomes, and the +more she trembles, the steadier his voice, as he goes on:</p> + +<p>"Gehenna! Fire! Hanging by the tongue! Four death penalties inflicted by +the court!"</p> + +<p>She is silent, her face is white as chalk.</p> + +<p>He feels that he is doing wrong, that he has no call to be cruel, that +he is taking a mean advantage, but he has risen, as it were, to the top, +and is boiling over. He cannot help himself.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," he threatens her, "what Skiloh means? It means stoning, +to throw into a ditch and cover up with stones! Srefoh—burning, that +is, pouring a spoonful of boiling lead into the inside! +Hereg—beheading, that means they cut off your head with a sword! Like +this" (and he passes a hand across his neck). "Then Cheneck—strangling! +Do you hear? To strangle! Do you understand? And all four for making +light of the Torah! For Bittul-Torah!"</p> + +<p>His heart is already sore for his victim, but he is feeling his power +over her for the first time, and it has gone to his head. Silly woman! +He had never known how easy it was to frighten her.<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a></p> + +<p>"That comes of making light of the Torah!" he shouts, and breaks off. +After all, she might come to her senses at any moment, and take up the +broom! He springs back to the table, closes the Gemoreh, and hurries out +of the room.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the house-of-study!" he calls out over his shoulder in a +milder tone, and shuts the door after him.</p> + +<p>The loud voice and the noise of the closing door have waked the sick +child. The heavy-lidded eyes open, the waxen face puckers, and there is +a peevish wail. But she, beside herself, stands rooted to the spot, and +does not hear.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" comes hoarsely at last out of her narrow chest. "So that's it, is +it? Neither this world nor the other. Hanging, he says, stoning, +burning, beheading, strangling, hanging by the tongue, boiling lead +poured into the inside, he says—for making light of the Torah—Hanging, +ha, ha, ha!" (in desperation). "Yes, I'll hang, but <i>here, here!</i> And +soon! What is there to wait for?"</p> + +<p>The child begins to cry louder; still she does not hear.</p> + +<p>"A rope! a rope!" she screams, and stares wildly into every corner.</p> + +<p>"Where is there a rope? I wish he mayn't find a bone of me left! Let me +be rid of <i>one</i> Gehenna at any rate! Let him try it, let him be a mother +for once, see how he likes it! I've had enough of it! Let it be an +atonement! An end, an end! A rope, a rope!!"</p> + +<p>Her last exclamation is like a cry for help from out of a +conflagration.<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a></p> + +<p>She remembers that they <i>have</i> a rope somewhere. Yes, under the +stove—the stove was to have been tied round against the winter. The +rope must be there still.</p> + +<p>She runs and finds the rope, the treasure, looks up at the ceiling—the +hook that held the lamp—she need only climb onto the table.</p> + +<p>She climbs—</p> + +<p>But she sees from the table that the startled child, weak as it is, has +sat up in the cradle, and is reaching over the side—it is trying to get +out—</p> + +<p>"Mame, M-mame," it sobs feebly.</p> + +<p>A fresh paroxysm of anger seizes her.</p> + +<p>She flings away the rope, jumps off the table, runs to the child, and +forces its head back into the pillow, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Bother the child! It won't even let me hang myself! I can't even hang +myself in peace! It wants to suck. What is the good? You will suck +nothing but poison, poison, out of me, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"There, then, greedy!" she cries in the same breath, and stuffs her +dried-up breast into his mouth.</p> + +<p>"There, then, suck away—bite!"<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_TREASURE" id="THE_TREASURE"></a>THE TREASURE</h3> + +<p>To sleep, in summer time, in a room four yards square, together with a +wife and eight children, is anything but a pleasure, even on a Friday +night—and Shmerel the woodcutter rises from his bed, though only half +through with the night, hot and gasping, hastily pours some water over +his finger-tips, flings on his dressing-gown, and escapes barefoot from +the parched Gehenna of his dwelling. He steps into the street—all +quiet, all the shutters closed, and over the sleeping town is a distant, +serene, and starry sky. He feels as if he were all alone with God, +blessed is He, and he says, looking up at the sky, "Now, Lord of the +Universe, now is the time to hear me and to bless me with a treasure out +of Thy treasure-house!"</p> + +<p>As he says this, he sees something like a little flame coming along out +of the town, and he knows, That is it! He is about to pursue it, when he +remembers it is Sabbath, when one mustn't turn. So he goes after it +walking. And as he walks slowly along, the little flame begins to move +slowly, too, so that the distance between them does not increase, though +it does not shorten, either. He walks on. Now and then an inward voice +calls to him: "Shmerel, don't be a fool! Take off the dressing-gown. +Give a jump and throw it over the flame!" But he knows it is the Evil +Inclination speaking. He throws off the dressing-gown onto his arm, but +to spite the Evil Inclination he takes still smaller<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> steps, and +rejoices to see that, as soon as he takes these smaller steps, the +little flame moves more slowly, too.</p> + +<p>Thus he follows the flame, and follows it, till he gradually finds +himself outside the town. The road twists and turns across fields and +meadows, and the distance between him and the flame grows no longer, no +shorter. Were he to throw the dressing-gown, it would not reach the +flame. Meantime the thought revolves in his mind: Were he indeed to +become possessed of the treasure, he need no longer be a woodcutter, +now, in his later years; he has no longer the strength for the work he +had once. He would rent a seat for his wife in the women's Shool, so +that her Sabbaths and holidays should not be spoiled by their not +allowing her to sit here or to sit there. On New Year's Day and the Day +of Atonement it is all she can do to stand through the service. Her many +children have exhausted her! And he would order her a new dress, and buy +her a few strings of pearls. The children should be sent to better +Chedorim, and he would cast about for a match for his eldest girl. As it +is, the poor child carries her mother's fruit baskets, and never has +time so much as to comb her hair thoroughly, and she has long, long +plaits, and eyes like a deer.</p> + +<p>"It would be a meritorious act to pounce upon the treasure!"</p> + +<p>The Evil Inclination again, he thinks. If it is not to be, well, then it +isn't! If it were in the week, he would soon know what to do! Or if his +Yainkel were there, he would have had something to say. Children +nowadays! Who knows what they don't do on Sabbath, as it is! And the +younger one is no better: he makes fun of the<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a> teacher in Cheder. When +the teacher is about to administer a blow, they pull his beard. And +who's going to find time to see after them—chopping and sawing a whole +day through.</p> + +<p>He sighs and walks on and on, now and then glancing up into the sky: +"Lord of the Universe, of whom are you making trial? Shmerel Woodcutter? +If you do mean to give me the treasure, <i>give</i> it me!" It seems to him +that the flame proceeds more slowly, but at this very moment he hears a +dog bark, and it has a bark he knows—that is the dog in Vissóke. +Vissóke is the first village you come to on leaving the town, and he +sees white patches twinkle in the dewy morning atmosphere, those are the +Vissóke peasant cottages. Then it occurs to him that he has gone a +Sabbath day's journey, and he stops short.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have gone a Sabbath day's journey," he thinks, and says, +speaking into the air: "You won't lead me astray! It is <i>not</i> a +God-send! God does not make sport of us—it is the work of a demon." And +he feels a little angry with the thing, and turns and hurries toward the +town, thinking: "I won't say anything about it at home, because, first, +they won't believe me, and if they do, they'll laugh at me. And what +have I done to be proud of? The Creator knows how it was, and that is +enough for me. Besides, <i>she</i> might be angry, who can tell? The children +are certainly naked and barefoot, poor little things! Why should they be +made to transgress the command to honor one's father?"</p> + +<p>No, he won't breathe a word. He won't even ever remind the Almighty of +it. If he really has been good, the Almighty will remember without being +told.<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a></p> + +<p>And suddenly he is conscious of a strange, lightsome, inward calm, and +there is a delicious sensation in his limbs. Money is, after all, dross, +riches may even lead a man from the right way, and he feels inclined to +thank God for not having brought him into temptation by granting him his +wish. He would like, if only—to sing a song! "Our Father, our King" is +one he remembers from his early years, but he feels ashamed before +himself, and breaks off. He tries to recollect one of the cantor's +melodies, a Sinai tune—when suddenly he sees that the identical little +flame which he left behind him is once more preceding him, and moving +slowly townward, townward, and the distance between them neither +increases nor diminishes, as though the flame were taking a walk, and he +were taking a walk, just taking a little walk in honor of Sabbath. He is +glad in his heart and watches it. The sky pales, the stars begin to go +out, the east flushes, a narrow pink stream flows lengthwise over his +head, and still the flame flickers onward into the town, enters his own +street. There is his house. The door, he sees, is open. Apparently he +forgot to shut it. And, lo and behold! the flame goes in, the flame goes +in at his own house door! He follows, and sees it disappear beneath the +bed. All are asleep. He goes softly up to the bed, stoops down, and sees +the flame spinning round underneath it, like a top, always in the same +place; takes his dressing-gown, and throws it down under the bed, and +covers up the flame. No one hears him, and now a golden morning beam +steals in through the chink in the shutter.<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a></p> + +<p>He sits down on the bed, and makes a vow not to say a word to anyone +till Sabbath is over—not half a word, lest it cause desecration of the +Sabbath. <i>She</i> could never hold her tongue, and the children certainly +not; they would at once want to count the treasure, to know how much +there was, and very soon the secret would be out of the house and into +the Shool, the house-of-study, and all the streets, and people would +talk about his treasure, about luck, and people would not say their +prayers, or wash their hands, or say grace, as they should, and he would +have led his household and half the town into sin. No, not a whisper! +And he stretches himself out on the bed, and pretends to be asleep.</p> + +<p>And this was his reward: When, after concluding the Sabbath, he stooped +down and lifted up the dressing-gown under the bed, there lay a sack +with a million of gulden, an almost endless number—the bed was a large +one—and he became one of the richest men in the place.</p> + +<p>And he lived happily all the years of his life.</p> + +<p>Only, his wife was continually bringing up against him: "Lord of the +World, how could a man have such a heart of stone, as to sit a whole +summer day and not say a word, not a word, not to his own wife, not one +single word! And there was I" (she remembers) "crying over my prayer as +I said God of Abraham—and crying so—for there wasn't a dreier left in +the house."</p> + +<p>Then he consoles her, and says with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Who knows? Perhaps it was all thanks to your 'God of Abraham' that it +went off so well."<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="IT_IS_WELL" id="IT_IS_WELL"></a>IT IS WELL</h3> + +<p>You ask how it is that I remained a Jew? Whose merit it is?</p> + +<p>Not through my own merits nor those of my ancestors. I was a +six-year-old Cheder boy, my father a countryman outside Wilna, a +householder in a small way.</p> + +<p>No, I remained a Jew thanks to the Schpol Grandfather.</p> + +<p>How do I come to mention the Schpol Grandfather? What has the Schpol +Grandfather to do with it, you ask?</p> + +<p>The Schpol Grandfather was no Schpol Grandfather then. He was a young +man, suffering exile from home and kindred, wandering with a troop of +mendicants from congregation to congregation, from friendly inn to +friendly inn, in all respects one of them. What difference his heart may +have shown, who knows? And after these journeyman years, the time of +revelation had not come even yet. He presented himself to the Rabbinical +Board in Wilna, took out a certificate, and became a Shochet in a +village. He roamed no more, but remained in the neighborhood of Wilna. +The Misnagdim, however, have a wonderful <i>flair</i>, and they suspected +something, began to worry and calumniate him, and finally they denounced +him to the Rabbinical authorities as a transgressor of the Law, of the +whole Law! What Misnagdim are capable of, to be sure!</p> + +<p>As I said, I was then six years old. He used to come to us to slaughter +small cattle, or just to spend the<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a> night, and I was very fond of him. +Whom else, except my father and mother, should I have loved? I had a +teacher, a passionate man, a destroyer of souls, and this other was a +kind and genial creature, who made you feel happy if he only looked at +you. The calumnies did their work, and they took away his certificate. +My teacher must have had a hand in it, because he heard of it before +anyone, and the next time the Shochet came, he exclaimed "Apostate!" +took him by the scruff of his coat, and bundled him out of the house. It +cut me to the heart like a knife, only I was frightened to death of the +teacher, and never stirred. But a little later, when the teacher was +looking away, I escaped and began to run after the Shochet across the +road, which, not far from the house, lost itself in a wood that +stretched all the way to Wilna. What exactly I proposed to do to help +him, I don't know, but something drove me after the poor Shochet. I +wanted to say good-by to him, to have one more look into his nice, +kindly eyes.</p> + +<p>But I ran and ran, and hurt my feet against the stones in the road, and +saw no one. I went to the right, down into the wood, thinking I would +rest a little on the soft earth of the wood. I was about to sit down, +when I heard a voice (it sounded like his voice) farther on in the wood, +half speaking and half singing. I went softly towards the voice, and saw +him some way off, where he stood swaying to and fro under a tree. I went +up to him—he was reciting the Song of Songs. I look closer and see that +the tree under which he stands is different from the other trees. The +others are still bare of leaves, and this one is green and in full leaf, +it shines<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> like the sun, and stretches its flowery branches over the +Shochet's head like a tent. And a quantity of birds hop among the twigs +and join in singing the Song of Songs. I am so astonished that I stand +there with open mouth and eyes, rooted like the trees.</p> + +<p>He ends his chant, the tree is extinguished, the little birds are +silent, and he turns to me, and says affectionately:</p> + +<p>"Listen, Yüdele,"—Yüdel is my name—"I have a request to make of you."</p> + +<p>"Really?" I answer joyfully, and I suppose he wishes me to bring him out +some food, and I am ready to run and bring him our whole Sabbath dinner, +when he says to me:</p> + +<p>"Listen, keep what you saw to yourself."</p> + +<p>This sobers me, and I promise seriously and faithfully to hold my +tongue.</p> + +<p>"Listen again. You are going far away, very far away, and the road is a +long road."</p> + +<p>I wonder, however should I come to travel so far? And he goes on to say:</p> + +<p>"They will knock the Rebbe's Torah out of your head, and you will forget +Father and Mother, but see you keep to your name! You are called +Yüdel—remain a Jew!"</p> + +<p>I am frightened, but cry out from the bottom of my heart:</p> + +<p>"Surely! As surely may I live!"</p> + +<p>Then, because my own idea clung to me, I added:</p> + +<p>"Don't you want something to eat?"</p> + +<p>And before I finished speaking, he had vanished.<a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a></p> + +<p>The second week after they fell upon us and led me away as a Cantonist, +to be brought up among the Gentiles and turned into a soldier.</p> + +<p class="top5">Time passed, and I forgot everything, as he had foretold. They knocked +it all out of my head.</p> + +<p>I served far away, deep in Russia, among snows and terrific frosts, and +never set eyes on a Jew. There may have been hidden Jews about, but I +knew nothing of them, I knew nothing of Sabbath and festival, nothing of +any fast. I forgot everything.</p> + +<p>But I held fast to my name!</p> + +<p>I did not change my coin.</p> + +<p>The more I forgot, the more I was inclined to be quit of my torments and +trials—to make an end of them by agreeing to a Christian name, but +whenever the bad thought came into my head, he appeared before me, the +same Shochet, and I heard his voice say to me, "Keep your name, remain a +Jew!"</p> + +<p>And I knew for certain that it was no empty dream, because every time I +saw him <i>older</i> and <i>older</i>, his beard and earlocks greyer, his face +paler. Only his eyes remained the same kind eyes, and his voice, which +sounded like a violin, never altered.</p> + +<p>Once they flogged me, and he stood by and wiped the cold sweat off my +forehead, and stroked my face, and said softly: "Don't cry out! We ought +to suffer! Remain a Jew," and I bore it without a cry, without a moan, +as though they had been flogging <i>not</i>-me.</p> + +<p class="top5">Once, during the last year, I had to go as a sentry to a public house +behind the town. It was evening,<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a> and there was a snow-storm. The wind +lifted patches of snow, and ground them to needles, rubbed them to dust, +and this snow-dust and these snow-needles were whirled through the air, +flew into one's face and pricked—you couldn't keep an eye open, you +couldn't draw your breath! Suddenly I saw some people walking past me, +not far away, and one of them said in Yiddish, "This is the first night +of Passover." Whether it was a voice from God, or whether some people +really passed me, to this day I don't know, but the words fell upon my +heart like lead, and I had hardly reached the tavern and begun to walk +up and down, when a longing came over me, a sort of heartache, that is +not to be described. I wanted to recite the Haggadah, and not a word of +it could I recall! Not even the Four Questions I used to ask my father. +I felt it all lay somewhere deep down in my heart. I used to know so +much of it, when I was only six years old. I felt, if only I could have +recalled one simple word, the rest would have followed and risen out of +my memory one after the other, like sleepy birds from beneath the snow. +But that one first word is just what I cannot remember! Lord of the +Universe, I cried fervently, one word, only one word! As it seems, I +made my prayer in a happy hour, for "we were slaves" came into my head +just as if it had been thrown down from Heaven. I was overjoyed! I was +so full of joy that I felt it brimming over. And then the rest all came +back to me, and as I paced up and down on my watch, with my musket on my +shoulder, I recited and sang the Haggadah to the snowy world around. I +drew it out of me, word after word, like a chain of golden links,<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> like +a string of pearls. O, but you won't understand, you couldn't +understand, unless you had been taken away there, too!</p> + +<p>The wind, meanwhile, had fallen, the snow-storm had come to an end, and +there appeared a clear, twinkling sky, and a shining world of diamonds. +It was silent all round, and ever so wide, and ever so white, with a +sweet, peaceful, endless whiteness. And over this calm, wide, whiteness, +there suddenly appeared something still whiter, and lighter, and +brighter, wrapped in a robe and a prayer-scarf, the prayer-scarf over +its shoulders, and over the prayer-scarf, in front, a silvery white +beard; and above the beard, two shining eyes, and above them, a +sparkling crown, a cap with gold and silver ornaments. And it came +nearer and nearer, and went past me, but as it passed me it said:</p> + +<p>"It is well!"</p> + +<p>It sounded like a violin, and then the figure vanished.</p> + +<p>But it was the same eyes, the same voice.</p> + +<p>I took Schpol on my way home, and went to see the Old Man, for the Rebbe +of Schpol was called by the people Der Alter, the "Schpol Grandfather."</p> + +<p>And I recognized him again, and he recognized me!<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="WHENCE_A_PROVERB" id="WHENCE_A_PROVERB"></a>WHENCE A PROVERB</h3> + +<p>"Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim," is a Jewish proverb, and +people ought to know whence it comes.</p> + +<p>In the days of the famous scholar, Reb Chayyim Vital, there lived in +Safed, in Palestine, a young man who (not of us be it spoken!) had not +been married a year before he became a widower. God's ways are not to be +understood. Such things will happen. But the young man was of the +opinion that the world, in as far as he was concerned, had come to an +end; that, as there is one sun in heaven, so his wife had been the one +woman in the world. So he went and sold all the merchandise in his +little shop and all the furniture of his room, and gave the proceeds to +the head of the Safed Academy, the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, on condition that +he should be taken into the Yeshiveh and fed with the other scholars, +and that he should have a room to himself, where he might sit and learn +Torah.</p> + +<p>The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh took the money for the Academy, and they +partitioned off a little room for the young man with some boards, in a +corner of the attic of the house-of-study. They carried in a sack with +straw, and vessels for washing, and the young man sat himself down to +the Talmud. Except on Sabbaths and holidays, when the householders +invited him to dinner, he never set eyes on a living creature. Food +sufficient for the day, and a clean shirt in honor of Sabbaths and<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> +festivals, were carried up to him by the beadle, and whenever he heard +steps on the stair, he used to turn away, and stand with his face to the +wall, till whoever it was had gone out again and shut the door.</p> + +<p>In a word, he became a Porush, for he lived separate from the world.</p> + +<p>At first people thought he wouldn't persevere long, because he was a +lively youth by nature; but as week after week went by, and the Porush +sat and studied, and the tearful voice in which he intoned the Gemoreh +was heard in the street half through the night, or else he was seen at +the attic window, his pale face raised towards the sky, then they began +to believe in him, and they hoped he might in time become a mighty man +in Israel, and perhaps even a wonderworker. They said so to the Rebbe, +Chayyim Vital, but he listened, shook his head, and replied, "God grant +it may last."</p> + +<p>Meantime a little "wonder" really happened. The beadle's little +daughter, who used sometimes to carry up the Porush's food for her +father, took it into her head that she must have one look at the Porush. +What does she? Takes off her shoes and stockings, and carries the food +to him barefoot, so noiselessly that she heard her own heart beat. But +the beating of her heart frightened her so much that she fell down half +the stairs, and was laid up for more than a month in consequence. In her +fever she told the whole story, and people began to believe in the +Porush more firmly than ever and to wait with increasing impatience till +he should become famous.</p> + +<p>They described the occurrence to Reb Chayyim Vital, and again he shook +his head, and even sighed, and<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> answered, "God grant he may be +victorious!" And when they pressed him for an explanation of these +words, Reb Chayyim answered, that as the Porush had left the world, not +so much for the sake of Heaven as on account of his grief for his wife, +it was to be feared that he would be sorely beset and tempted by the +"Other Side," and God grant he might not stumble and fall.</p> + +<p class="top5">And Reb Chayyim Vital never spoke without good reason!</p> + +<p>One day the Porush was sitting deep in a book, when he heard something +tapping at the door, and fear came over him. But as the tapping went on, +he rose, forgetting to close his book, went and opened the door—and in +walks a turkey. He lets it in, for it occurs to him that it would be +nice to have a living thing in the room. The turkey walks past him, and +goes and settles down quietly in a corner. And the Porush wonders what +this may mean, and sits down again to his book. Sitting there, he +remembers that it is going on for Purim. Has someone sent him a turkey +out of regard for his study of the Torah? What shall he do with the +turkey? Should anyone, he reflects, ask him to dinner, supposing it were +to be a poor man, he would send him the turkey on the eve of Purim, and +then he would satisfy himself with it also. He has not once tasted +fowl-meat since he lost his wife. Thinking thus, he smacked his lips, +and his mouth watered. He threw a glance at the turkey, and saw it +looking at him in a friendly way, as though it had quite understood his +intention, and was very glad to<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a> think it should have the honor of being +eaten by a Porush. He could not restrain himself, but was continually +lifting his eyes from his book to look at the turkey, till at last he +began to fancy the turkey was smiling at him. This startled him a +little, but all the same it made him happy to be smiled at by a living +creature.</p> + +<p>The same thing happened at Minchah and Maariv. In the middle of the +Eighteen Benedictions, he could not for the life of him help looking +round every minute at the turkey, who continued to smile and smile. +Suddenly it seemed to him, he knew that smile well—the Almighty, who +had taken back his wife, had now sent him her smile to comfort him in +his loneliness, and he began to love the turkey. He thought how much +better it would be, if a <i>rich</i> man were to invite him at Purim, so that +the turkey might live.</p> + +<p>And he thought it in a propitious moment, as we shall presently see, but +meantime they brought him, as usual, a platter of groats with a piece of +bread, and he washed his hands, and prepared to eat.</p> + +<p>No sooner, however, had he taken the bread into his hand, and was about +to bite into it, than the turkey moved out of its corner, and began +peck, peck, peck, towards the bread, by way of asking for some, and as +though to say it was hungry, too, and came and stood before him near the +table. The Porush thought, "He'd better have some, I don't want to be +unkind to him, to tease him," and he took the bread and the platter of +porridge, and set it down on the floor before the turkey, who pecked and +supped away to its heart's content.<a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p> + +<p>Next day the Porush went over to the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, and told him how +he had come to have a fellow-lodger; he used always to leave some +porridge over, and to-day he didn't seem to have had enough. The Rosh +ha-Yeshiveh saw a hungry face before him. He said he would tell this to +the Rebbe, Chayyim Vital, so that he might pray, and the evil spirit, if +such indeed it was, might depart. Meantime he would give orders for two +pieces of bread and two plates of porridge to be taken up to the attic, +so that there should be enough for both, the Porush and the turkey. Reb +Chayyim Vital, however, to whom the story was told in the name of the +Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, shook his head, and declared with a deep sigh that +this was only the beginning!</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Porush received a double portion and was satisfied, and +the turkey was satisfied, too. The turkey even grew fat. And in a couple +of weeks or so the Porush had become so much attached to the turkey that +he prayed every day to be invited for Purim by a <i>rich</i> man, so that he +might not be tempted to destroy it.</p> + +<p>And, as we intimated, <i>that</i> temptation, anyhow, was spared him, for he +was invited to dinner by one of the principal householders in the place, +and there was not only turkey, but every kind of tasty dish, and wine +fit for a king. And the best Purim-players came to entertain the rich +man, his family, and the guests who had come to him after their feast at +home. And our Porush gave himself up to enjoyment, and ate and drank. +Perhaps he even drank rather more than he ate, for the wine was sweet +and grateful to the taste, and the warmth of it made its way into every +limb.<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a></p> + +<p>Then suddenly a change came over him.</p> + +<p>The Ahasuerus-Esther play had begun. Vashti will not do the king's +pleasure and come in to the banquet as God made her. Esther soon finds +favor in her stead, she is given over to Hegai, the keeper of the women, +to be purified, six months with oil of myrrh and six months with other +sweet perfumes. And our Porush grew hot all over, and it was dark before +his eyes; then red streaks flew across his field of vision, like tongues +of fire, and he was overcome by a strange, wild longing to be back at +home, in the attic of the house-of-study—a longing for his own little +room, his quiet corner, a longing for the turkey, and he couldn't bear +it, and even before they had said grace he jumped up and ran away home.</p> + +<p>He enters his room, looks into the corner habitually occupied by the +turkey, and stands amazed—the turkey has turned into a woman, a most +beautiful woman, such as the world never saw, and he begins to tremble +all over. And she comes up to him, and takes him around the neck with +her warm, white, naked arms, and the Porush trembles more and more, and +begs, "Not here, not here! It is a holy place, there are holy books +lying about." Then she whispers into his ear that she is the Queen of +Sheba, that she lives not far from the house-of-study, by the river, +among the tall reeds, in a palace of crystal, given her by King Solomon. +And she draws him along, she wants him to go with her to her palace.</p> + +<p>And he hesitates and resists—and he goes.</p> + +<p>Next day, there was no turkey, and no Porush, either!<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a></p> + +<p>They went to Reb Chayyim Vital, who told them to look for him along the +bank of the river, and they found him in a swamp among the tall reeds, +more dead than alive.</p> + +<p>They rescued him and brought him round, but from that day he took to +drink.</p> + +<p>And Reb Chayyim Vital said, it all came from his great longing for the +Queen of Sheba, that when he drank, he saw her; and they were to let him +drink, only not at Purim, because at that time she would have great +power over him.</p> + +<p>Hence the proverb, "Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim."</p> + +<p><a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="MORDECAI_SPEKTOR" id="MORDECAI_SPEKTOR"></a>MORDECAI SPEKTOR</h3> + +<p>Born, 1859, in Uman, Government of Kieff, Little Russia; education +Hasidic; entered business in 1878; wrote first sketch, A Roman ohn +Liebe, in 1882; contributor to Zedernbaum's Jüdisches Volksblatt, +1884-1887; founded, in 1888, and edited Der Hausfreund, at Warsaw; +editor of Warsaw daily papers, Unser Leben, and (at present, 1912) Dos +neie Leben; writer of novels, historical romances, and sketches in +Yiddish; contributor to numerous periodicals; compiled a volume of more +than two thousand Jewish proverbs.</p> + +<p><a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="AN_ORIGINAL_STRIKE" id="AN_ORIGINAL_STRIKE"></a>AN ORIGINAL STRIKE</h3> + +<p>I was invited to a wedding.</p> + +<p>Not a wedding at which ladies wore low dress, and scattered powder as +they walked, and the men were in frock-coats and white gloves, and had +waxed moustaches.</p> + +<p>Not a wedding where you ate of dishes with outlandish names, according +to a printed card, and drank wine dating, according to the label, from +the reign of King Sobieski, out of bottles dingy with the dust of +yesterday.</p> + +<p>No, but a Jewish wedding, where the men, women, and girls wore the +Sabbath and holiday garments in which they went to Shool; a wedding +where you whet your appetite with sweet-cakes and apple-tart, and sit +down to Sabbath fish, with fresh rolls, golden soup, stuffed fowl, and +roast duck, and the wine is in large, clear, white bottles; a wedding +with a calling to the Reading of the Torah of the bridegroom, a party on +the Sabbath preceding the wedding, a good-night-play performed by the +musicians, and a bridegroom's-dinner in his native town, with a table +spread for the poor.</p> + +<p>Reb Yitzchok-Aizik Berkover had made a feast for the poor at the wedding +of each of his children, and now, on the occasion of the marriage of his +youngest daughter, he had invited all the poor of the little town +Lipovietz to his village home, where he had spent all his life.</p> + +<p>It is the day of the ceremony under the canopy, two o'clock in the +afternoon, and the poor, sent for early<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a> in the morning by a messenger, +with the three great wagons, are not there. Lipovietz is not more than +five versts away—what can have happened? The parents of the bridal +couple and the assembled guests wait to proceed with the ceremony.</p> + +<p>At last the messenger comes riding on a horse unharnessed from his +vehicle, but no poor.</p> + +<p>"Why have you come back alone?" demands Reb Yitzchok-Aizik.</p> + +<p>"They won't come!" replies the messenger.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'they won't come'?" asked everyone in surprise.</p> + +<p>"They say that unless they are given a kerbel apiece, they won't come to +the wedding."</p> + +<p>All laugh, and the messenger goes on:</p> + +<p>"There was a wedding with a dinner to the poor in Lipovietz to-day, too, +and they have eaten and drunk all they can, and now they've gone on +strike, and declare that unless they are promised a kerbel a head, they +won't move from the spot. The strike leaders are the Crooked Man with +two crutches, Mekabbel the Long, Feitel the Stammerer, and Yainkel +Fonfatch; the others would perhaps have come, but these won't let them. +So I didn't know what to do. I argued a whole hour, and got nothing by +it, so then I unharnessed a horse, and came at full speed to know what +was to be done."</p> + +<p>We of the company could not stop laughing, but Reb Yitzchok-Aizik was +very angry.</p> + +<p>"Well, and you bargained with them? Won't they come for less?" he asked +the messenger.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I bargained, and they won't take a kopek less."<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a></p> + +<p>"Have their prices gone up so high as all that?" exclaimed Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, with a satirical laugh. "Why did you leave the wagons? +We shall do without the tramps, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"How could I tell? I didn't know what to do. I was afraid you would be +displeased. Now I'll go and fetch the wagons back."</p> + +<p>"Wait! Don't be in such a hurry, take time!"</p> + +<p>Reb Yitzchok-Aizik began consulting with the company and with himself.</p> + +<p>"What an idea! Who ever heard of such a thing? Poor people telling me +what to do, haggling with me over my wanting to give them a good dinner +and a nice present each, and saying they must be paid in rubles, +otherwise it's no bargain, ha! ha! For two guldens each it's not worth +their while? It cost them too much to stock the ware? Thirty kopeks +wouldn't pay them? I like their impertinence! Mischief take them, I +shall do without them!</p> + +<p>"Let the musicians play! Where is the beadle? They can begin putting the +veil on the bride."</p> + +<p>But directly afterwards he waved his hands.</p> + +<p>"Wait a little longer. It is still early. Why should it happen to <i>me</i>, +why should my pleasure be spoilt? Now I've got to marry my youngest +daughter without a dinner to the poor! I would have given them half a +ruble each, it's not the money I mind, but fancy bargaining with me! +Well, there, I have done my part, and if they won't come, I'm sure +they're not wanted; afterwards they'll be sorry; they don't get a +wedding like this every day. We shall do without them."<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, can they put the veil on the bride?" the beadle came and +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they can.... No, tell them to wait a little longer!"</p> + +<p>Nearly all the guests, who were tired of waiting, cried out that the +tramps could very well be missed.</p> + +<p>Reb Yitzchok-Aizik's face suddenly assumed another expression, the anger +vanished, and he turned to me and a couple, of other friends, and asked +if we would drive to the town, and parley with the revolted +almsgatherers.</p> + +<p>"He has no brains, one can't depend on him," he said, referring to the +messenger.</p> + +<p>A horse was harnessed to a conveyance, and we drove off, followed by the +mounted messenger.</p> + +<p>"A revolt—a strike of almsgatherers, how do you like that?" we asked +one another all the way. We had heard of workmen striking, refusing to +work except for a higher wage, and so forth, but a strike of +paupers—paupers insisting on larger alms as pay for eating a free +dinner, such a thing had never been known.</p> + +<p>In twenty minutes time we drove into Lipovietz.</p> + +<p>In the market-place, in the centre of the town, stood the three great +peasant wagons, furnished with fresh straw. The small horses were +standing unharnessed, eating out of their nose-bags; round the wagons +were a hundred poor folk, some dumb, others lame, the greater part +blind, and half the town urchins with as many men.</p> + +<p>All of them were shouting and making a commotion.</p> + +<p>The Crooked One sat on a wagon, and banged it with his crutches; Long +Mekabbel, with a red plaster on his neck, stood beside him.<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a></p> + +<p>These two leaders of the revolt were addressing the people, the meek of +the earth.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Long Mekabbel, as he caught sight of us and the +messenger, "they have come to beg our acceptance!"</p> + +<p>"To beg our acceptance!" shouted the Crooked One, and banged his crutch.</p> + +<p>"Why won't you come to the wedding, to the dinner?" we inquired. +"Everyone will be given alms."</p> + +<p>"How much?" they asked all together.</p> + +<p>"We don't know, but you will take what they offer."</p> + +<p>"Will they give it us in kerblech? Because, if not, we don't go."</p> + +<p>"There will be a hole in the sky if you don't go," cried some of the +urchins present.</p> + +<p>The almsgatherers threw themselves on the urchins with their sticks, and +there was a bit of a row.</p> + +<p>Mekabbel the Long, standing on the cart, drew himself to his full +height, and began to shout:</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, hush! Quiet, you crazy cripples! One can't hear oneself +speak! Let us hear what those have to say who are worth listening to!" +and he turned to us with the words:</p> + +<p>"You must know, dear Jews, that unless they distribute kerblech among +us, we shall not budge. Never you fear! Reb Yitzchok-Aizik won't marry +his youngest daughter without us, and where is he to get others of us +now? To send to Lunetz would cost him more in conveyances, and he would +have to put off the marriage."</p> + +<p>"What do they suppose? That because we are poor people they can do what +they please with us?" and a<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> new striker hitched himself up by the +wheel, blind of one eye, with a tied-up jaw. "No one can oblige us to +go, even the chief of police and the governor cannot force us—either +it's kerblech, or we stay where we are."</p> + +<p>"K-ke-kkerb-kkerb-lech!!" came from Feitel the Stammerer.</p> + +<p>"Nienblech!" put in Yainkel Fonfatch, speaking through his small nose. +"No, more!" called out a couple of merry paupers.</p> + +<p>"Kerblech, kerblech!" shouted the rest in concert.</p> + +<p>And through their shouting and their speeches sounded such a note of +anger and of triumph, it seemed as though they were pouring out all the +bitterness of soul collected in the course of their sad and luckless +lives.</p> + +<p>They had always kept silence, had <i>had</i> to keep silence, <i>had</i> to +swallow the insults offered them along with the farthings, and the dry +bread, and the scraped bones, and this was the first time they had been +able to retaliate, the first time they had known how it felt to be +entreated by the fortunate in all things, and they were determined to +use their opportunity of asserting themselves to the full, to take their +revenge. In the word kerblech lay the whole sting of their resentment.</p> + +<p>And while we talked and reasoned with them, came a second messenger from +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik, to say that the paupers were to come at once, and +they would be given a ruble each.</p> + +<p>There was a great noise and scrambling, the three wagons filled with +almsgatherers, one crying out, "O my bad hand!" another, "O my foot!" +and a third, "O<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a> my poor bones!" The merry ones made antics, and sang in +their places, while the horses were put in, and the procession started +at a cheerful trot. The urchins gave a great hurrah, and threw little +stones after it, with squeals and whistles.</p> + +<p>The poor folks must have fancied they were being pelted with flowers and +sent off with songs, they looked so happy in the consciousness of their +victory.</p> + +<p>For the first and perhaps the last time in their lives, they had spoken +out, and got their own way.</p> + +<p>After the "canopy" and the chicken soup, that is, at "supper," tables +were spread for the friends of the family and separate ones for the +almsgatherers.</p> + +<p>Reb Yitzchok-Aizik and the members of his own household served the poor +with their own hands, pressing them to eat and drink.</p> + +<p>"Le-Chayyim to you, Reb Yitzchok-Aizik! May you have pleasure in your +children, and be a great man, a great rich man!" desired the poor.</p> + +<p>"Long life, long life to all of you, brethren! Drink in health, God help +All-Israel, and you among them!" replied Reb Yitzchok-Aizik.</p> + +<p>After supper the band played, and the almsgatherers, with Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, danced merrily in a ring round the bridegroom.</p> + +<p>Then who was so happy as Reb Yitzchok-Aizik? He danced in the ring, the +silk skirts of his long coat flapped and flew like eagles' wings, tears +of joy fell from his shining eyes, and his spirits rose to the seventh +heaven.</p> + +<p>He laughed and cried like a child, and exchanged embraces with the +almsgatherers.<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a></p> + +<p>"Brothers!" he exclaimed as he danced, "let us be merry, let us be Jews! +Musicians, give us something cheerful—something gayer, livelier, +louder!"</p> + +<p>"This is what you call a Jewish wedding!"</p> + +<p>"This is how a Jew makes merry!"</p> + +<p>So the guests and the almsgatherers clapped their hands in time to the +music.</p> + +<p>Yes, dear readers, it <i>was</i> what I call a Jewish Wedding!<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_GLOOMY_WEDDING" id="A_GLOOMY_WEDDING"></a>A GLOOMY WEDDING</h3> + +<p>They handed Gittel a letter that had come by post, she put on her +spectacles, sat down by the window, and began to read.</p> + +<p>She read, and her face began to shine, and the wrinkled skin took on a +little color. It was plain that what she read delighted her beyond +measure, she devoured the words, caught her breath, and wept aloud in +the fulness of her joy.</p> + +<p>"At last, at last! Blessed be His dear Name, whom I am not worthy to +mention! I do not know, Gottinyu, how to thank Thee for the mercy Thou +hast shown me. Beile! Where is Beile? Where is Yossel? Children! Come, +make haste and wish me joy, a great joy has befallen us! Send for +Avremele, tell him to come with Zlatke and all the children."</p> + +<p>Thus Gittel, while she read the letter, never ceased calling every one +into the room, never ceased reading and calling, calling and reading, +and devouring the words as she read.</p> + +<p>Every soul who happened to be at home came running.</p> + +<p>"Good luck to you! Good luck to us all! Moishehle has become engaged in +Warsaw, and invites us all to the wedding," Gittel explained. "There, +read the letter, Lord of the World, may it be in a propitious hour, may +we all have comfort in one another, may we hear nothing but good news of +one another and of All-Israel! Read it, read it, children! He writes +that he has a very beautiful bride, well-favored, with a large<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a> dowry. +Lord of the World, I am not worthy of the mercy Thou hast shown me!" +repeated Gittel over and over, as she paced the room with uplifted +hands, while her daughter Beile took up the letter in her turn. The +children and everyone in the house, including the maid from the kitchen, +with rolled-up sleeves and wet hands, encircled Beile as she read aloud.</p> + +<p>"Read louder, Beiletshke, so that I can hear, so that we can all hear," +begged Gittel, and there were tears of happiness in her eyes.</p> + +<p>The children jumped for joy to see Grandmother so happy. The word +"wedding," which Beile read out of the letter, contained a promise of +all delightful things: musicians, pancakes, new frocks and suits, and +they could not keep themselves from dancing. The maid, too, was heartily +pleased, she kept on singing out, "Oi, what a bride, beautiful as gold!" +and did not know what to be doing next—should she go and finish cooking +the dinner, or should she pull down her sleeves and make holiday?</p> + +<p>The hiss of a pot boiling over in the kitchen interrupted the +letter-reading, and she was requested to go and attend to it forthwith.</p> + +<p>"The bride sends us a separate greeting, long life to her, may she live +when my bones are dust. Let us go to the provisor, he shall read it; it +is written in French."</p> + +<p>The provisor, the apothecary's foreman, who lived in the same house, +said the bride's letter was not written in French, but in Polish, that +she called Gittel her second mother, that she loved her son Moses as her +life, that he was her world, that she held herself to be the most +fortunate of girls, since God had given her Moses,<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a> that Gittel (once +more!) was her second mother, and she felt like a dutiful daughter +towards her, and hoped that Gittel would love her as her own child.</p> + +<p>The bride declared further that she kissed her new sister, Beile, a +thousand times, together with Zlatke and their husbands and children, +and she signed herself "Your forever devoted and loving daughter +Regina."</p> + +<p>An hour later all Gittel's children were assembled round her, her eldest +son Avremel with his wife, Zlatke and her little ones, Beile's husband, +and her son-in-law Yossel. All read the letter with eager curiosity, +brandy and spice-cakes were placed on the table, wine was sent for, they +drank healths, wished each other joy, and began to talk of going to the +wedding.</p> + +<p>Gittel, very tired with all she had gone through this day, went to lie +down for a while to rest her head, which was all in a whirl, but the +others remained sitting at the table, and never stopped talking of +Moisheh.</p> + +<p>"I can imagine the sort of engagement Moisheh has made, begging his +pardon," remarked the daughter-in-law, and wiped her pale lips.</p> + +<p>"I should think so, a man who's been a bachelor up to thirty! It's easy +to fancy the sort of bride, and the sort of family she has, if they +accepted Moisheh as a suitor," agreed the daughter.</p> + +<p>"God helping, this ought to make a man of him," sighed Moisheh's elder +brother, "he's cost us trouble and worry enough."</p> + +<p>"It's your fault," Yossel told him. "If I'd been his elder brother, he +would have turned out differently! I should have directed him like a +father, and taken him well in hand."<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a></p> + +<p>"You think so, but when God wishes to punish a man through his own child +going astray, nothing is of any use; these are not the old times, when +young people feared a Rebbe, and respected their elders. Nowadays the +world is topsyturvy, and no sooner has a boy outgrown his childhood than +he does what he pleases, and parents are nowhere. What have I left +undone to make something out of him, so that he should be a credit to +his family? Then, he was left an orphan very early; perhaps he would +have obeyed his father (may he enter a lightsome paradise!), but for a +brother and his mother, he paid them as much attention as last year's +snow, and, if you said anything to him, he answered rudely, and neither +coaxing nor scolding was any good. Now, please God, he'll make a fresh +start, and give up his antics before it's too late. His poor mother! +She's had trouble enough on his account, as we all know."</p> + +<p>Beile let fall a tear and said:</p> + +<p>"If our father (may he be our kind advocate!) were alive, Moishehle +would never have made an engagement like this. Who knows what sort of +connections they will be! I can see them, begging his pardon, from here! +Is he likely to have asked anyone's advice? He always had a will of his +own—did what he wanted to do, never asked his mother, or his sister, or +his brother, beforehand. Now he's a bridegroom at thirty if he's a day, +and we are all asked to the wedding, are we really? And we shall soon +all be running to see the fine sight, such as never was seen before. We +are no such fools! He thinks <i>himself</i> the clever one now! So he wants +us to be at the wedding? Only says it out of politeness."<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a></p> + +<p>"We must go, all the same," said Avremel.</p> + +<p>"Go and welcome, if you want to—you won't catch <i>me</i> there," answered +his sister.</p> + +<p>There was a deal more discussion and disputing about not going to the +wedding, and only congratulating by telegram, for good manners' sake. +Since he had asked no one's advice, and engaged himself without them, +let him get married without them, too!</p> + +<p>Gittel, up in her bedroom, could not so soon compose herself after the +events of the day. What she had experienced was no trifle. Moishehle +engaged to be married! She had been through so much on his account in +the course of her life, she had loved him, her youngest born, so dearly! +He was such a beautiful child that the light of his countenance dazzled +you, and bright as the day, so that people opened ears and mouth to hear +him talk, and God and men alike envied her the possession of such a boy.</p> + +<p>"I counted on making a match for him, as I did with Avremel before him. +He was offered the best connections, with the families of the greatest +Rabbis. But, no—no—he wanted to go on studying. 'Study here, study +there,' said I, 'sixteen years old and a bachelor! If you want to study, +can't you study at your father-in-law's, eating Köst? There are books in +plenty, thank Heaven, of your father's.' No, no, he wanted to go and +study elsewhere, asked nobody's advice, and made off, and for two months +I never had a line. I nearly went out of my mind. Then, suddenly, there +came a letter, begging my pardon for not having said good-by, and would +I forgive him, and send him some<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a> money, because he had nothing to eat. +It tore my heart to think my Moishehle, who used to make me happy +whenever he enjoyed a meal, should hunger. I sent him some money, I went +on sending him money for three years, after that he stopped asking for +it. I begged him to come home, he made no reply. 'I don't wish to +quarrel with Avremel, my sister, and her husband,' he wrote later, 'we +cannot live together in peace.' Why? I don't know! Then, for a time, he +left off writing altogether, and the messages we got from him sounded +very sad. Now he was in Kieff, now in Odessa, now in Charkoff, and they +told us he was living like any Gentile, had not the look of a Jew at +all. Some said he was living with a Gentile woman, a countess, and would +never marry in his life."</p> + +<p>Five years ago he had suddenly appeared at home, "to see his mother," as +he said. Gittel did not recognize him, he was so changed. The rest found +him quite the stranger: he had a "goyish" shaven face, with a twisted +moustache, and was got up like a rich Gentile, with a purse full of +bank-notes. His family were ashamed to walk abroad with him, Gittel +never ceased weeping and imploring him to give up the countess, remain a +Jew, stay with his mother, and she, with God's help, would make an +excellent match for him, if he would only alter his appearance and ways +just a little. Moishehle solemnly assured his mother that he was a Jew, +that there was no countess, but that he wouldn't remain at home for a +million rubles, first, because he had business elsewhere, and secondly, +he had no fancy for his native town, there was nothing there for him to<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a> +do, and to dispute with his brother and sister about religious piety was +not worth his while.</p> + +<p>So Moishehle departed, and Gittel wept, wondering why he was different +from the other children, seeing they all had the same mother, and she +had lived and suffered for all alike. Why would he not stay with her at +home? What would he have wanted for there? God be praised, not to sin +with her tongue, thanks to God first, and then to <i>him</i> (a lightsome +paradise be his!), they were provided for, with a house and a few +thousand rubles, all that was necessary for their comfort, and a little +ready money besides. The house alone, not to sin with her tongue, would +bring in enough to make a living. Other people envy us, but it doesn't +happen to please him, and he goes wandering about the world—without a +wife and without a home—a man twenty and odd years old, and without a +home!</p> + +<p>The rest of the family were secretly well content to be free of such a +poor creature—"the further off, the better—the shame is less."</p> + +<p>A letter from him came very seldom after this, and for the last two +years he had dropped out altogether. Nobody was surprised, for everyone +was convinced that Moisheh would never come to anything. Some told that +he was in prison, others knew that he had gone abroad and was being +pursued, others, that he had hung himself because he was tired of life, +and that before his death he had repented of all his sins, only it was +too late.</p> + +<p>His relations heard all these reports, and were careful to keep them +from his mother, because they were not sure that the bad news was true.<a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a></p> + +<p>Gittel bore the pain at her heart in silence, weeping at times over her +Moishehle, who had got into bad ways—and now, suddenly, this precious +letter with its precious news: Her Moishehle is about to marry, and +invites them to the wedding!</p> + +<p>Thus Gittel, lying in bed in her own room, recalled everything she had +suffered through her undutiful son, only now—now everything was +forgotten and forgiven, and her mother's heart was full of love for her +Moishehle, just as in the days when he toddled about at her apron, and +pleased his mother and everyone else.</p> + +<p>All her thoughts were now taken up with getting ready to attend the +wedding; the time was so short—there were only three weeks left. When +her other children were married, Gittel began her preparations three +months ahead, and now there were only three weeks.</p> + +<p>Next day she took out her watered silk dress, with the green satin +flowers, and hung it up to air, examined it, lest there should be a hook +missing. After that she polished her long ear-rings with chalk, her +pearls, her rings, and all her other ornaments, and bought a new yellow +silk kerchief for her head, with a large flowery pattern in a lighter +shade.</p> + +<p>A week before the journey to Warsaw they baked spice-cakes, pancakes, +and almond-rolls to take with her, "from the bridegroom's side," and +ordered a wig for the bride. When her eldest son was married, Gittel had +also given the bride silver candlesticks for Friday evenings, and +presented her with a wig for the Veiling Ceremony.<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a></p> + +<p>And before she left, Gittel went to her husband's grave, and asked him +to be present at the wedding as a good advocate for the newly-married +pair.</p> + +<p>Gittel started for Warsaw in grand style, and cheerful and happy, as +befits a mother going to the wedding of her favorite son. All those who +accompanied her to the station declared that she looked younger and +prettier by twenty years, and made a beautiful bridegroom's mother.</p> + +<p>Besides wedding presents for the bride, Gittel took with her money for +wedding expenses, so that she might play her part with becoming +lavishness, and people should not think her Moishehle came, bless and +preserve us, of a low-born family—to show that he was none so forlorn +but he had, God be praised and may it be for a hundred and twenty years +to come! a mother, and a sister, and brothers, and came of a well-to-do +family. She would show them that she could be as fine a bridegroom's +mother as anyone, even, thank God, in Warsaw. Moishehle was her last +child, and she grudged him nothing. Were <i>he</i> (may he be a good +intercessor!) alive, he would certainly have graced the wedding better, +and spent more money, but she would spare nothing to make a good figure +on the occasion. She would treat every connection of the bride to a +special dance-tune, give the musicians a whole five-ruble-piece for +their performance of the Vivat, and two dreierlech for the Kosher-Tanz, +beside something for the Rav, the cantor, and the beadle, and alms for +the poor—what should she save for? She has no more children to marry +off—blessed be His dear Name, who had granted her life to see her +Moishehle's wedding!<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a></p> + +<p>Thus happily did Gittel start for Warsaw.</p> + +<p>One carriage after another drove up to the wedding-reception room in +Dluga Street, Warsaw, ladies and their daughters, all in evening dress, +and smartly attired gentlemen, alighted and went in.</p> + +<p>The room was full, the band played, ladies and gentlemen were dancing, +and those who were not, talked of the bride and bridegroom, and said how +fortunate they considered Regina, to have secured such a presentable +young man, lively, educated, and intelligent, with quite a fortune, +which he had made himself, and a good business. Ten thousand rubles +dowry with the perfection of a husband was a rare thing nowadays, when a +poor professional man, a little doctor without practice, asked fifteen +thousand. It was true, they said, that Regina was a pretty girl and a +credit to her parents, but how many pretty, bright girls had more money +than Regina, and sat waiting?</p> + +<p>It was above all the mothers of the young ladies present who talked low +in this way among themselves.</p> + +<p>The bride sat on a chair at the end of the room, ladies and young girls +on either side of her; Gittel, the bridegroom's mother in her watered +silk dress, with the large green satin flowers, was seated between two +ladies with dresses cut so low that Gittel could not bear to look at +them—women with husbands and children daring to show themselves like +that at a wedding! Then she could not endure the odor of their bare +skin, the powder, pomade, and perfumes with which they were smeared, +sprinkled, and wetted, even to their hair. All these strange smells +tickled Gittel's nose, and went to her<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a> head like a fume. She sat +between the two ladies, feeling cramped and shut in, unable to stir, and +would gladly have gone away. Only whither? Where should she, the +bridegroom's mother, be sitting, if not near the bride, at the upper end +of the room? But all the ladies sitting there are half-naked. Should she +sit near the door? That would never do. And Gittel remained sitting, in +great embarrassment, between the two women, and looked on at the +reception, and saw nothing but a room full of <i>decolletées</i>, ladies and +girls.</p> + +<p>Gittel felt more and more uncomfortable, it made her quite faint to look +at them.</p> + +<p>"One can get over the girls, young things, because a girl has got to +please, although no Jewish daughter ought to show herself to everyone +like that, but what are you to do with present-day children, especially +in a dissolute city like Warsaw? But young women, and women who have +husbands and children, and no need, thank God, to please anyone, how are +they not ashamed before God and other people and their own children, to +come to a wedding half-naked, like loose girls in a public house? Jewish +daughters, who ought not to be seen uncovered by the four walls of their +room, to come like that to a wedding! To a Jewish wedding!... Tpfu, +tpfu, I'd like to spit at this newfangled world, may God not punish me +for these words! It is enough to make one faint to see such a display +among Jews!"</p> + +<p>After the ceremony under the canopy, which was erected in the centre of +the room, the company sat down to the table, and Gittel was again seated +at the top, between the two women before mentioned, whose perfumes went +to her head.<a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a></p> + +<p>She felt so queer and so ill at ease that she could not partake of the +dinner, her mouth seemed locked, and the tears came in her eyes.</p> + +<p>When they rose from table, Gittel sought out a place removed from the +"upper end," and sat down in a window, but presently the bride's mother, +also in <i>decolleté</i>, caught sight of her, and went and took her by the +hand.</p> + +<p>"Why are you sitting here, Mechuteneste? Why are you not at the top?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to rest myself a little."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, come and sit there," said the lady, led her away by force, +and seated her between the two ladies with the perfumes.</p> + +<p>Long, long did she sit, feeling more and more sick and dizzy. If only +she could have poured out her heart to some one person, if she could +have exchanged a single word with anybody during that whole evening, it +would have been a relief, but there was no one to speak to. The music +played, there was dancing, but Gittel could see nothing more. She felt +an oppression at her heart, and became covered with perspiration, her +head grew heavy, and she fell from her chair.</p> + +<p>"The bridegroom's mother has fainted!" was the outcry through the whole +room. "Water, water!"</p> + +<p>They fetched water, discovered a doctor among the guests, and he led +Gittel into another room, and soon brought her round.</p> + +<p>The bride, the bridegroom, the bride's mother, and the two ladies ran +in:<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a></p> + +<p>"What can have caused it? Lie down! How do you feel now? Perhaps you +would like a sip of lemonade?" they all asked.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I want nothing, I feel better already, leave me alone for a +while. I shall soon recover myself, and be all right."</p> + +<p>So Gittel was left alone, and she breathed more easily, her head stopped +aching, she felt like one let out of prison, only there was a pain at +her heart. The tears which had choked her all day now began to flow, and +she wept abundantly. The music never ceased playing, she heard the sound +of the dancers' feet and the directions of the master of ceremonies; the +floor shook, Gittel wept, and tried with all her might to keep from +sobbing, so that people should not hear and come in and disturb her. She +had not wept so since the death of her husband, and this was the wedding +of her favorite son!</p> + +<p>By degrees she ceased to weep altogether, dried her eyes, and sat +quietly talking to herself of the many things that passed through her +head.</p> + +<p>"Better that <i>he</i> (may he enter a lightsome paradise!) should have died +than lived to see what I have seen, and the dear delight which I have +had, at the wedding of my youngest child! Better that I myself should +not have lived to see his marriage canopy. Canopy, indeed! Four sticks +stuck up in the middle of the room to make fun with, for people to play +at being married, like monkeys! Then at table: no Seven Blessings, not a +Jewish word, not a Jewish face, no Minyan to be seen, only shaven +Gentiles upon Gentiles, a roomful of naked women and girls that make you +sick to look at them.<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a> Moishehle had better have married a poor orphan, +I shouldn't have been half so ashamed or half so unhappy."</p> + +<p>Gittel called to mind the sort of a bridegroom's mother she had been at +the marriage of her eldest son, and the satisfaction she had felt. Four +hundred women had accompanied her to the Shool when Avremele was called +to the Reading of the Law as a bridegroom, and they had scattered nuts, +almonds, and raisins down upon him as he walked; then the party before +the wedding, and the ceremony of the canopy, and the procession with the +bride and bridegroom to the Shool, the merry home-coming, the golden +soup, the bridegroom brought at supper time to the sound of music, the +cantor and his choir, who sang while they sat at table, the Seven +Blessings, the Vivat played for each one separately, the Kosher-Tanz, +the dance round the bridegroom—and the whole time it had been Gittel +here and Gittel there: "Good luck to you, Gittel, may you be happy in +the young couple and in all your other children, and live to dance at +the wedding of your youngest" (it was a delight and no mistake!). "Where +is Gittel?" she hears them cry. "The uncle, the aunt, a cousin have paid +for a dance for the Mechuteneste on the bridegroom's side! Play, +musicians all!" The company make way for her, and she dances with the +uncle, the aunt, and the cousin, and all the rest clap their hands. She +is tired with dancing, but still they call "Gittel"! An old friend sings +a merry song in her honor. "Play, musicians all!" And Gittel dances on, +the company clap their hands, and wish her all that<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a> is good, and she is +penetrated with genuine happiness and the joy of the occasion. Then, +then, when the guests begin to depart, and the mothers of bridegroom and +bride whisper together about the forthcoming Veiling Ceremony, she sees +the bride in her wig, already a wife, her daughter-in-law! Her jam +pancakes and almond-rolls are praised by all, and what cakes are left +over from the Veiling Ceremony are either snatched one by one, or else +they are seized wholesale by the young people standing round the table, +so that she should not see, and they laugh and tease her. That is the +way to become a mother-in-law! And here, of course, the whole of the +pancakes and sweet-cakes and almond-rolls which she brought have never +so much as been unpacked, and are to be thrown away or taken home again, +as you please! A shame! No one came to her for cakes. The wig, too, may +be thrown away or carried back—Moishehle told her it was not required, +it wouldn't quite do. The bride accepted the silver candlesticks with +embarrassment, as though Gittel had done something to make her feel +awkward, and some girls who were standing by smiled, "Regina has been +given candlesticks for the candle-blessing on Fridays—ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>The bridal couple with the girl's parents came in to ask how she felt, +and interrupted the current of her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"We shall drive home now, people are leaving," they said.</p> + +<p>"The wedding is over," they told her, "everything in life comes to a +speedy end."<a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a></p> + +<p>Gittel remembered that when Avremel was married, the festivities had +lasted a whole week, till over the second cheerful Sabbath, when the +bride, the new daughter-in-law, was led to the Shool!</p> + +<p>The day after the wedding Gittel drove home, sad, broken in spirit, as +people return from the cemetery where they have buried a child, where +they have laid a fragment of their own heart, of their own life, under +the earth.</p> + +<p>Driving home in the carriage, she consoled herself with this at least:</p> + +<p>"A good thing that Beile and Zlatke, Avremel and Yossel were not there. +The shame will be less, there will be less talk, nobody will know what I +am suffering."</p> + +<p>Gittel arrived the picture of gloom.</p> + +<p>When she left for the wedding, she had looked suddenly twenty years +younger, and now she looked twenty years older than before!<a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="POVERTY" id="POVERTY"></a>POVERTY</h3> + +<p>I was living in Mezkez at the time, and Seinwill Bookbinder lived there +too.</p> + +<p>But Heaven only knows where he is now! Even then his continual pallor +augured no long residence in Mezkez, and he was a Yadeschlever Jew with +a wife and six small children, and he lived by binding books.</p> + +<p>Who knows what has become of him! But that is not the question—I only +want to prove that Seinwill was a great liar.</p> + +<p>If he is already in the other world, may he forgive me—and not be very +angry with me, if he is still living in Mezkez!</p> + +<p>He was an orthodox and pious Jew, but when you gave him a book to bind, +he never kept his word.</p> + +<p>When he took a book and even the whole of his pay in advance, he would +swear by beard and earlocks, by wife and children, and by the Messiah, +that he would bring it back to you by Sabbath, but you had to be at him +for weeks before the work was finished and sent in.</p> + +<p>Once, on a certain Friday, I remembered that next day, Sabbath, I should +have a few hours to myself for reading.</p> + +<p>A fortnight before I had given Seinwill a new book to bind for me. It +was just a question whether or not he would return it in time, so I set +out for his home, with the intention of bringing back the book, finished +or not. I had paid him his twenty kopeks in advance,<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> so what excuses +could he possibly make? Once for all, I would give him a bit of my mind, +and take away the work unfinished—it will be a lesson for him for the +next time!</p> + +<p>Thus it was, walking along and deciding on what I should say to +Seinwill, that I turned into the street to which I had been directed. +Once in the said street, I had no need to ask questions, for I was at +once shown a little, low house, roofed with mouldered slate.</p> + +<p>I stooped a little by way of precaution, and entered Seinwill's house, +which consisted of a large kitchen.</p> + +<p>Here he lived with his wife and children, and here he worked.</p> + +<p>In the great stove that took up one-third of the kitchen there was a +cheerful crackling, as in every Jewish home on a Friday.</p> + +<p>In the forepart of the oven, on either hand, stood a variety of pots and +pipkins, and gossipped together in their several tones. An elder child +stood beside them holding a wooden spoon, with which she stirred or +skimmed as the case required.</p> + +<p>Seinwill's wife, very much occupied, stood by the one four-post bed, +which was spread with a clean white sheet, and on which she had laid out +various kinds of cakes, of unbaked dough, in honor of Sabbath. Beside +her stood a child, its little face red with crying, and hindered her in +her work.</p> + +<p>"Seinwill, take Chatzkele away! How can I get on with the cakes? Don't +you know it's Friday?" she kept calling out, and Seinwill, sitting at +his work beside a<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> large table covered with books, repeated every time +like an echo:</p> + +<p>"Chatzkele, let mother alone!"</p> + +<p>And Chatzkele, for all the notice he took, might have been as deaf as +the bedpost.</p> + +<p>The minute Seinwill saw me, he ran to meet me in a shamefaced way, like +a sinner caught in the act; and before I was able to say a word, that +is, tell him angrily and with decision that he must give me my book +finished or not—never mind about the twenty kopeks, and so on—and thus +revenge myself on him, he began to answer, and he showed me that my book +was done, it was already in the press, and there only remained the +lettering to be done on the back. Just a few minutes more, and he would +bring it to my house.</p> + +<p>"No, I will wait and take it myself," I said, rather vexed.</p> + +<p>Besides, I knew that to stamp a few letters on a book-cover could not +take more than a few minutes at most.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you are so good as to wait, it will not take long. There is a +fire in the oven, I have only just got to heat the screw."</p> + +<p>And so saying, he placed a chair for me, dusted it with the flap of his +coat, and I sat down to wait. Seinwill really took my book out of the +press quite finished except for the lettering on the cover, and began to +hurry. Now he is by the oven—from the oven to the corner—and once more +to the oven and back to the corner—and so on ten times over, saying to +me every time:</p> + +<p>"There, directly, directly, in another minute," and back once more +across the room.<a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a></p> + +<p>So it went on for about ten minutes, and I began to take quite an +interest in this running of his from one place to another, with empty +hands, and doing nothing but repeat "Directly, directly, this minute!"</p> + +<p>Most of all I wonder why he keeps on looking into the corner—he never +takes his eyes off that corner. What is he looking for, what does he +expect to see there? I watch his face growing sadder—he must be +suffering from something or other—and all the while he talks to +himself, "Directly, directly, in one little minute." He turns to me: "I +must ask you to wait a little longer. It will be very soon now—in +another minute's time. Just because we want it so badly, you'd think +she'd rather burst," he said, and he went back to the corner, stooped, +and looked into it.</p> + +<p>"What are you looking for there every minute?" I ask him.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. But directly—Take my advice: why should you sit there +waiting? I will bring the book to you myself. When one wants her to, she +won't!"</p> + +<p>"All right, it's Friday, so I need not hurry. Why should you have the +trouble, as I am already here?" I reply, and ask him who is the "she who +won't."</p> + +<p>"You see, my wife, who is making cakes, is kept waiting by her too, and +I, with the lettering to do on the book, I also wait."</p> + +<p>"But <i>what</i> are you waiting for?"</p> + +<p>"You see, if the cakes are to take on a nice glaze while baking, they +must be brushed over with a yolk."</p> + +<p>"Well, and what has that to do with stamping the letters on the cover of +the book?"<a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a></p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it? Don't you know that the glaze-gold which +is used for the letters will not stick to the cover without some white +of egg?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have seen them smearing the cover with white of egg before +putting on the letters. Then what?"</p> + +<p>"How 'what?' That is why we are waiting for the egg."</p> + +<p>"So you have sent out to buy an egg?"</p> + +<p>"No, but it will be there directly." He points out to me the corner +which he has been running to look into the whole time, and there, on the +ground, I see an overturned sieve, and under the sieve, a hen turning +round and round and cackling.</p> + +<p>"As if she'd rather burst!" continued Seinwill. "Just because we want it +so badly, she won't lay. She lays an egg for me nearly every time, and +now—just as if she'd rather burst!" he said, and began to scratch his +head.</p> + +<p>And the hen? The hen went on turning round and round like a prisoner in +a dungeon, and cackled louder than ever.</p> + +<p>To tell the truth, I had inferred at once that Seinwill was persuaded I +should wait for my book till the hen had laid an egg, and as I watched +Seinwill's wife, and saw with what anxiety she waited for the hen to +lay, I knew that I was right, that Seinwill was indeed so persuaded, for +his wife called to him:</p> + +<p>"Ask the young man for a kopek and send the child to buy an egg in the +market. The cakes are getting cold."<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a></p> + +<p>"The young man owes me nothing, a few weeks ago he paid me for the whole +job. There is no one to borrow from, nobody will lend me anything, I owe +money all around, my very hair is not my own."</p> + +<p>When Seinwill had answered his wife, he took another peep into the +corner, and said:</p> + +<p>"She will not keep us waiting much longer now. She can't cackle forever. +Another two minutes!"</p> + +<p>But the hen went on puffing out her feathers, pecking and cackling for a +good deal more than two minutes. It seemed as if she could not bear to +see her master and mistress in trouble, as if she really wished to do +them a kindness by laying an egg. But no egg appeared.</p> + +<p>I <i>lent</i> Seinwill two or three kopeks, which he was to pay me back in +work, because Seinwill has never once asked for, or accepted, charity, +and the child was sent to the market.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, when the child had come back with an egg, +Seinwill's wife had the glistening Sabbath cakes on a shovel, and was +placing them gaily in the oven; my book was finished, and the +unfortunate hen, released at last from her prison, the sieve, ceased to +cackle and to ruffle out her plumage.<a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="SHOLOM-ALECHEM" id="SHOLOM-ALECHEM"></a>SHOLOM-ALECHEM</h3> + +<p>Pen name of Shalom Rabinovitz; born, 1859, in Pereyaslav, Government of +Poltava, Little Russia; Government Rabbi, at twenty-one, in Lubni, near +his native place; has spent the greater part of his life in Kieff; in +Odessa from 1890 to 1893, and in America from 1905 to 1907; Hebrew, +Russian, and Yiddish poet, novelist, humorous short story writer, +critic, and playwright; prolific contributor to Hebrew and Yiddish +periodicals; founder of Die jüdische Volksbibliothek; novels: Stempenyu, +Yosele Solovei, etc.; collected works: first series, Alle Werk, 4 vols., +Cracow, 1903-1904; second series, Neueste Werk, 8 vols., Warsaw, +1909-1911.</p> + +<p><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_CLOCK" id="THE_CLOCK"></a>THE CLOCK</h3> + +<p>The clock struck thirteen!</p> + +<p>Don't imagine I am joking, I am telling you in all seriousness what +happened in Mazepevke, in our house, and I myself was there at the time.</p> + +<p>We had a clock, a large clock, fastened to the wall, an old, old clock +inherited from my grandfather, which had been left him by my +great-grandfather, and so forth. Too bad, that a clock should not be +alive and able to tell us something beside the time of day! What stories +we might have heard as we sat with it in the room! Our clock was famous +throughout the town as the best clock going—"Reb Simcheh's clock"—and +people used to come and set their watches by it, because it kept more +accurate time than any other. You may believe me that even Reb Lebish, +the sage, a philosopher, who understood the time of sunset from the sun +itself, and knew the calendar by rote, he said himself—I heard +him—that our clock was—well, as compared with his watch, it wasn't +worth a pinch of snuff, but as there <i>were</i> such things as clocks, our +clock <i>was</i> a clock. And if Reb Lebish himself said so, you may depend +upon it he was right, because every Wednesday, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, Reb Lebish climbed busily onto the roof of the women's +Shool, or onto the top of the hill beside the old house-of-study, and +looked out for the minute when the sun should set, in one hand his +watch, and in the other the calendar. And when the sun dropt out of +sight on the further side of<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a> Mazepevke, Reb Lebish said to himself, +"Got him!" and at once came away to compare his watch with the clocks. +When he came in to us, he never gave us a "good evening," only glanced +up at the clock on the wall, then at his watch, then at the almanac, and +was gone!</p> + +<p>But it happened one day that when Reb Lebish came in to compare our +clock with the almanac, he gave a shout:</p> + +<p>"Sim-cheh! Make haste! Where are you?"</p> + +<p>My father came running in terror.</p> + +<p>"Ha, what has happened, Reb Lebish?"</p> + +<p>"Wretch, you dare to ask?" and Reb Lebish held his watch under my +father's nose, pointed at our clock, and shouted again, like a man with +a trodden toe:</p> + +<p>"Sim-cheh! Why don't you speak? It is a minute and a half ahead of the +time! Throw it away!"</p> + +<p>My father was vexed. What did Reb Lebish mean by telling him to throw +away his clock?</p> + +<p>"Who is to prove," said he, "that my clock is a minute and a half fast? +Perhaps it is the other way about, and your watch is a minute and a half +slow? Who is to tell?"</p> + +<p>Reb Lebish stared at him as though he had said that it was possible to +have three days of New Moon, or that the Seventeenth of Tammuz might +possibly fall on the Eve of Passover, or made some other such wild +remark, enough, if one really took it in, to give one an apoplectic fit. +Reb Lebish said never a word, he gave a deep sigh, turned away without +wishing us "good evening," slammed the door, and was gone. But no one +minded much, because the whole town knew Reb Lebish for a<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a> person who +was never satisfied with anything: he would tell you of the best cantor +that he was a dummy, a log; of the cleverest man, that he was a +lumbering animal; of the most appropriate match, that it was as crooked +as an oven rake; and of the most apt simile, that it was as applicable +as a pea to the wall. Such a man was Reb Lebish.</p> + +<p>But let me return to our clock. I tell you, that <i>was</i> a clock! You +could hear it strike three rooms away: Bom! bom! bom! Half the town went +by it, to recite the Midnight Prayers, to get up early for Seliches +during the week before New Year and on the ten Solemn Days, to bake the +Sabbath loaves on Fridays, to bless the candles on Friday evening. They +lighted the fire by it on Saturday evening, they salted the meat, and so +all the other things pertaining to Judaism. In fact, our clock was the +town clock. The poor thing served us faithfully, and never tried +stopping even for a time, never once in its life had it to be set to +rights by a clockmaker. My father kept it in order himself, he had an +inborn talent for clock work. Every year on the Eve of Passover, he +deliberately took it down from the wall, dusted the wheels with a +feather brush, removed from its inward part a collection of spider webs, +desiccated flies, which the spiders had lured in there to their +destruction, and heaps of black cockroaches, which had gone in of +themselves, and found a terrible end. Having cleaned and polished it, he +hung it up again on the wall and shone, that is, they both shone: the +clock shone because it was cleaned and polished, and my father shone +because the clock shone.<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a></p> + +<p>And it came to pass one day that something happened.</p> + +<p>It was on a fine, bright, cloudless day; we were all sitting at table, +eating breakfast, and the clock struck. Now I always loved to hear the +clock strike and count the strokes out loud:</p> + +<p>"One—two—three—seven—eleven—twelve—thirteen! Oi! <i>Thirteen?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Thirteen?" exclaimed my father, and laughed. "You're a fine +arithmetician (no evil eye!). Whenever did you hear a clock strike +thirteen?"</p> + +<p>"But I tell you, it <i>struck</i> thirteen!"</p> + +<p>"I shall give you thirteen slaps," cried my father, angrily, "and then +you won't repeat this nonsense again. Goi, a clock <i>cannot</i> strike +thirteen!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know what, Simcheh," put in my mother, "I am afraid the child is +right, I fancy I counted thirteen, too."</p> + +<p>"There's another witness!" said my father, but it appeared that he had +begun to feel a little doubtful himself, for after the meal he went up +to the clock, got upon a chair, gave a turn to a little wheel inside the +clock, and it began to strike. We all counted the strokes, nodding our +head at each one the while: +one—two—three—seven—nine—twelve—thirteen.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen!" exclaimed my father, looking at us in amaze. He gave the +wheel another turn, and again the clock struck thirteen. My father got +down off the chair with a sigh. He was as white as the wall, and +remained standing in the middle of the room, stared at the ceiling, +chewed his beard, and muttered to himself:<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a></p> + +<p>"Plague take thirteen! What can it mean? What does it portend? If it +were out of order, it would have stopped. Then, what can it be? The +inference can only be that some spring has gone wrong."</p> + +<p>"Why worry whether it's a spring or not?" said my mother. "You'd better +take down the clock and put it to rights, as you've a turn that way."</p> + +<p>"Hush, perhaps you're right," answered my father, took down the clock +and busied himself with it. He perspired, spent a whole day over it, and +hung it up again in its place.</p> + +<p>Thank God, the clock was going as it should, and when, near midnight, we +all stood round it and counted <i>twelve</i>, my father was overjoyed.</p> + +<p>"Ha? It didn't strike thirteen then, did it? When I say it is a spring, +I know what I'm about."</p> + +<p>"I always said you were a wonder," my mother told him. "But there is one +thing I don't understand: why does it wheeze so? I don't think it used +to wheeze like that."</p> + +<p>"It's your fancy," said my father, and listened to the noise it made +before striking, like an old man preparing to cough: +chil-chil-chil-chil-trrrr ... and only then: bom!—bom!—bom!—and even +the "bom" was not the same as formerly, for the former "bom" had been a +cheerful one, and now there had crept into it a melancholy note, as into +the voice of an old worn-out cantor at the close of the service for the +Day of Atonement, and the hoarseness increased, and the strike became +lower and duller, and my father, worried and anxious. It was plain that +the affair preyed upon his mind, that<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a> he suffered in secret, that it +was undermining his health, and yet he could do nothing. We felt that +any moment the clock might stop altogether. The imp started playing all +kinds of nasty tricks and idle pranks, shook itself sideways, and +stumbled like an old man who drags his feet after him. One could see +that the clock was about to stop forever! It was a good thing my father +understood in time that the clock was about to yield up its soul, and +that the fault lay with the balance weights: the weight was too light. +And he puts on a jostle, which has the weight of about four pounds. The +clock goes on like a song, and my father becomes as cheerful as a +newborn man.</p> + +<p>But this was not to be for long: the clock began to lose again, the imp +was back at his tiresome performances: he moved slowly on one side, +quickly on the other, with a hoarse noise, like a sick old man, so that +it went to the heart. A pity to see how the clock agonized, and my +father, as he watched it, seemed like a flickering, bickering flame of a +candle, and nearly went out for grief.</p> + +<p>Like a good doctor, who is ready to sacrifice himself for the patient's +sake, who puts forth all his energy, tries every remedy under the sun to +save his patient, even so my father applied himself to save the old +clock, if only it should be possible.</p> + +<p>"The weight is too light," repeated my father, and hung something +heavier onto it every time, first a frying-pan, then a copper jug, +afterwards a flat-iron, a bag of sand, a couple of tiles—and the clock +revived every<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a> time and went on, with difficulty and distress, but still +it went—till one night there was a misfortune.</p> + +<p>It was on a Friday evening in winter. We had just eaten our Sabbath +supper, the delicious peppered fish with horseradish, the hot soup with +macaroni, the stewed plums, and said grace as was meet. The Sabbath +candles flickered, the maid was just handing round fresh, hot, +well-dried Polish nuts from off the top of the stove, when in came Aunt +Yente, a dark-favored little woman without teeth, whose husband had +deserted her, to become a follower of the Rebbe, quite a number of years +ago.</p> + +<p>"Good Sabbath!" said Aunt Yente, "I knew you had some fresh Polish nuts. +The pity is that I've nothing to crack them with, may my husband live no +more years than I have teeth in my mouth! What did you think, Malkeh, of +the fish to-day? What a struggle there was over them at the market! I +asked him about his fish—Manasseh, the lazy—when up comes Soreh Peril, +the rich: Make haste, give it me, hand me over that little pike!—Why in +such a hurry? say I. God be with you, the river is not on fire, and +Manasseh is not going to take the fish back there, either. Take my word +for it, with these rich people money is cheap, and sense is dear. Turns +round on me and says: Paupers, she says, have no business here—a poor +man, she says, shouldn't hanker after good things. What do you think of +such a shrew? How long did she stand by her mother in the market selling +ribbons? She behaves just like Pessil Peise Avròhom's over her daughter, +the one she married to a great man in Schtrischtch, who took her<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> just +as she was, without any dowry or anything—Jewish luck! They say she has +a bad time of it—no evil eye to her days—can't get on with his +children. Well, who would be a stepmother? Let them beware! Take +Chavvehle! What is there to find fault with in her? And you should see +the life her stepchildren lead her! One hears shouting day and night, +cursing, squabbling, and fighting."</p> + +<p>The candles began to die down, the shadow climbed the wall, scrambled +higher and higher, the nuts crackled in our hands, there was talking and +telling stories and tales, just for the pleasure of it, one without any +reference to the other, but Aunt Yente talked more than anyone.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" cried out Aunt Yente, "listen, because not long ago a still +better thing happened. Not far from Yampele, about three versts away, +some robbers fell upon a Jewish tavern, killed a whole houseful of +people, down to a baby in a cradle. The only person left alive was a +servant-girl, who was sleeping on the kitchen stove. She heard people +screeching, and jumped down, this servant-girl, off the stove, peeped +through a chink in the door, and saw, this servant-girl I'm telling you +of, saw the master of the house and the mistress lying on the floor, +murdered, in a pool of blood, and she went back, this girl, and sprang +through a window, and ran into the town screaming: Jews, to the rescue, +help, help, help!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, just as Aunt Yente was shouting, "Help, help, help!" we heard +<i>trrraach!—tarrrach!—bom—dzin—dzin—dzin, bomm!!</i> We were so deep in +the story,<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a> we only thought at first that robbers had descended upon our +house, and were firing guns, and we could not move for terror. For one +minute we looked at one another, and then with one accord we began to +call out, "Help! help! help!" and my mother was so carried away that she +clasped me in her arms and cried:</p> + +<p>"My child, my life for yours, woe is me!"</p> + +<p>"Ha? What? What is the matter with him? What has happened?" exclaimed my +father.</p> + +<p>"Nothing! nothing! hush! hush!" cried Aunt Yente, gesticulating wildly, +and the maid came running in from the kitchen, more dead than alive.</p> + +<p>"Who screamed? What is it? Is there a fire? What is on fire? Where?"</p> + +<p>"Fire? fire? Where is the fire?" we all shrieked. "Help! help! Gewalt, +Jews, to the rescue, fire, fire!"</p> + +<p>"Which fire? what fire? where fire?! Fire take <i>you</i>, you foolish girl, +and make cinders of you!" scolded Aunt Yente at the maid. "Now <i>she</i> +must come, as though we weren't enough before! Fire, indeed, says she! +Into the earth with you, to all black years! Did you ever hear of such a +thing? What are you all yelling for? Do you know what it was that +frightened you? The best joke in the world, and there's nobody to laugh +with! God be with you, it was the clock falling onto the floor—now you +know! You hung every sort of thing onto it, and now it is fallen, +weighing at least three pud. And no wonder! A man wouldn't have fared +better. Did you ever?!"</p> + +<p>It was only then we came to our senses, rose one by one from the table, +went to the clock, and saw it lying<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a> on its poor face, killed, broken, +shattered, and smashed for evermore!</p> + +<p>"There is an end to the clock!" said my father, white as the wall. He +hung his head, wrung his fingers, and the tears came into his eyes. I +looked at my father and wanted to cry, too.</p> + +<p>"There now, see, what is the use of fretting to death?" said my mother. +"No doubt it was so decreed and written down in Heaven that to-day, at +that particular minute, our clock was to find its end, just (I beg to +distinguish!) like a human being, may God not punish me for saying so! +May it be an Atonement for not remembering the Sabbath, for me, for +thee, for our children, for all near and dear to us, and for all Israel. +Amen, Selah!"<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="FISHEL_THE_TEACHER" id="FISHEL_THE_TEACHER"></a>FISHEL THE TEACHER</h3> + +<p>Twice a year, as sure as the clock, on the first day of Nisan and the +first of Ellul—for Passover and Tabernacles—Fishel the teacher +travelled from Balta to Chaschtschevate, home to his wife and children. +It was decreed that nearly all his life long he should be the guest of +his own family, a very welcome guest, but a passing one. He came with +the festival, and no sooner was it over, than back with him to Balta, +back to the schooling, the ruler, the Gemoreh, the dull, thick wits, to +the being knocked about from pillar to post, to the wandering among +strangers, and the longing for home.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, when Fishel <i>does</i> come home, he is an emperor! His +wife Bath-sheba comes out to meet him, pulls at her head-kerchief, +blushes red as fire, questions as though in asides, without as yet +looking him in the face, "How are you?" and he replies, "How are <i>you</i>?" +and Froike his son, a boy of thirteen or so, greets him, and the father +asks, "Well, Efroim, and how far on are you in the Gemoreh?" and his +little daughter Resele, not at all a bad-looking little girl, with a +plaited pigtail, hugs and kisses him.</p> + +<p>"Tate, what sort of present have you brought me?"</p> + +<p>"Printed calico for a frock, and a silk kerchief for mother. There—give +mother the kerchief!"</p> + +<p>And Fishel takes a silk (suppose a half-silk!) kerchief out of his +Tallis-bag, and Bath-sheba grows redder still, and pulls her head-cloth +over her eyes, takes up a bit of household work, busies herself all over +the place, and ends by doing nothing.<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a></p> + +<p>"Bring the Gemoreh, Efroim, and let me hear what you can do!"</p> + +<p>And Froike recites his lesson like the bright boy he is, and Fishel +listens and corrects, and his heart expands and overflows with delight, +his soul rejoices—a bright boy, Froike, a treasure!</p> + +<p>"If you want to go to the bath, there is a shirt ready for you!"</p> + +<p>Thus Bath-sheba as she passes him, still not venturing to look him in +the face, and Fishel has a sensation of unspeakable comfort, he feels +like a man escaped from prison and back in a lightsome world, among +those who are near and dear to him. And he sees in fancy a very, very +hot bath-house, and himself lying on the highest bench with other Jews, +and he perspires and swishes himself with the birch twigs, and can never +have enough.</p> + +<p>Home from the bath, fresh and lively as a fish, like one newborn, he +rehearses the portion of the Law for the festival, puts on the Sabbath +cloak and the new girdle, steals a glance at Bath-sheba in her new dress +and silk kerchief—still a pretty woman, and so pious and good!—and +goes with Froike to the Shool. The air is full of Sholom Alechems, +"Welcome, Reb Fishel the teacher, and what are you about?"—"A teacher +teaches!"—"What is the news?"—"What should it be? The world is the +world!"—"What is going on in Balta?"—"Balta is Balta."</p> + +<p>The same formula is repeated every time, every half-year, and Nissel the +reader begins to recite the evening prayers, and sends forth his voice, +the further the<a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> louder, and when he comes to "And Moses declared the +set feasts of the Lord unto the children of Israel," it reaches nearly +to Heaven. And Froike stands at his father's side, and recites the +prayers melodiously, and once more Fishel's heart expands and flows over +with joy—a good child, Froike, a good, pious child!</p> + +<p>"A happy holiday, a happy holiday!"</p> + +<p>"A happy holiday, a happy year!"</p> + +<p>At home they find the Passover table spread: the four cups, the bitter +herbs, the almond and apple paste, and all the rest of it. The +reclining-seats (two small benches with big cushions) stand ready, and +Fishel becomes a king. Fishel, robed in white, sits on the throne of his +dominion, Bath-sheba, the queen, sits beside him in her new silk +kerchief; Efroim, the prince, in a new cap, and the princess Resele with +her plait, sit opposite them. Look on with respect! His majesty Fishel +is seated on his throne, and has assumed the sway of his kingdom.</p> + +<p class="top5">The Chaschtschevate scamps, who love to make game of the whole world, +not to mention a teacher, maintain that one Passover Eve our Fishel sent +his Bath-sheba the following Russian telegram: "Rebyàta sobral dyèngi +vezù prigatovi npiyèdu tzàrstvovàtz," which means: "Have entered my +pupils for the next term, am bringing money, prepare the dumplings, I +come to reign." The mischief-makers declare that this telegram was +seized at Balta station, that Bath-sheba was sought and not found, and +that Fishel was sent home with the étape. Dreadful! But I can assure +you, there isn't a<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a> word of truth in the story, because Fishel never +sent a telegram in his life, nobody was ever seen looking for +Bath-sheba, and Fishel was never taken anywhere by the étape. That is, +he <i>was</i> once taken somewhere by the étape, but not on account of a +telegram, only on account of a simple passport! And not from Balta, but +from Yehupetz, and not at Passover, but in summer-time. He wished, you +see, to go to Yehupetz in search of a post as teacher, and forgot his +passport. He thought it was in Balta, and he got into a nice mess, and +forbade his children and children's children ever to go in search of +pupils in Yehupetz.</p> + +<p>Since then he teaches in Balta, and comes home for Passover, winds up +his work a fortnight earlier, and sometimes manages to hasten back in +time for the Great Sabbath. Hasten, did I say? That means when the road +<i>is</i> a road, when you can hire a conveyance, and when the Bug can either +be crossed on the ice or in the ferry-boat. But when, for instance, the +snow has begun to melt, and the mud is deep, when there is no conveyance +to be had, when the Bug has begun to split the ice, and the ferry-boat +has not started running, when a skiff means peril of death, and the +festival is upon you—what then? It is just "nit güt."</p> + +<p>Fishel the teacher knows the taste of "nit güt." He has had many +adventures and mishaps since he became a teacher, and took to faring +from Chaschtschevate to Balta and from Balta to Chaschtschevate. He has +tried going more than half-way on foot, and helped to push the +conveyance besides. He has lain in the mud with a priest, the priest on +top, and he below. He has fled<a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a> before a pack of wolves who were +pursuing the vehicle, and afterwards they turned out to be dogs, and not +wolves at all. But anything like the trouble on this Passover Eve had +never befallen him before.</p> + +<p>The trouble came from the Bug, that is, from the Bug's breaking through +the ice, and just having its fling when Fishel reached it in a hurry to +get home, and really in a hurry, because it was already Friday and +Passover Eve, that is, Passover eve fell on a Sabbath that year.</p> + +<p>Fishel reached the Bug in a Gentile conveyance Thursday evening. +According to his own reckoning, he should have got there Tuesday +morning, because he left Balta Sunday after market, the spirit having +moved him to go into the market-place to spy after a chance conveyance. +How much better it would have been to drive with Yainkel-Shegetz, a +Balta carrier, even at the cart-tail, with his legs dangling, and shaken +to bits. He would have been home long ago by now, and have forgotten the +discomforts of the journey. But he had wanted a cheaper transit, and it +is an old saying that cheap things cost dear. Yoneh, the tippler, who +procures vehicles in Balta, had said to him: "Take my advice, give two +rubles, and you will ride in Yainkel's wagon like a lord, even if you do +have to sit behind the wagon. Consider, you're playing with fire, the +festival approaches." But as ill-luck would have it, there came along a +familiar Gentile from Chaschtschevate.</p> + +<p>"Eh, Rabbi, you're not wanting a lift to Chaschtschevate?"</p> + +<p>"How much would the fare be?"<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a></p> + +<p>He thought to ask how much, and he never thought to ask if it would take +him home by Passover, because in a week he could have covered the +distance walking behind the cart.</p> + +<p>But as Fishel drove out of the town, he soon began to repent of his +choice, even though the wagon was large, and he sitting in it in +solitary grandeur, like any count. He saw that with a horse that dragged +itself along in <i>that</i> way, there would be no getting far, for they +drove a whole day without getting anywhere in particular, and however +much he worried the peasant to know if it were a long way yet, the only +reply he got was, "Who can tell?" In the evening, with a rumble and a +shout and a crack of the whip, there came up with them Yainkel-Shegetz +and his four fiery horses jingling with bells, and the large coach +packed with passengers before and behind. Yainkel, catching sight of the +teacher in the peasant's cart, gave another loud crack with his whip, +ridiculed the peasant, his passenger, and his horse, as only +Yainkel-Shegetz knows how, and when a little way off, he turned and +pointed at one of the peasant's wheels.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, man, look out! There's a wheel turning!"</p> + +<p>The peasant stopped the horse, and he and the teacher clambered down +together, and examined the wheels. They crawled underneath the cart, and +found nothing wrong, nothing at all.</p> + +<p>When the peasant understood that Yainkel had made a fool of him, he +scratched the back of his neck below his collar, and began to abuse +Yainkel and all Jews with curses such as Fishel had never heard before. +His voice and his anger rose together:<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a></p> + +<p>"May you never know good! May you have a bad year! May you not see the +end of it! Bad luck to you, you and your horses and your wife and your +daughter and your aunts and your uncles and your parents-in-law and—and +all your cursed Jews!"</p> + +<p>It was a long time before the peasant took his seat again, nor did he +cease to fume against Yainkel the driver and all Jews, until, with God's +help, they reached a village wherein to spend the night.</p> + +<p>Next morning Fishel rose with the dawn, recited his prayers, a portion +of the Law, and a few Psalms, breakfasted on a roll, and was ready to +set forward. Unfortunately, Chfedor (this was the name of his driver) +was <i>not</i> ready. Chfedor had sat up late with a crony and got drunk, and +he slept through a whole day and a bit of the night, and then only +started on his way.</p> + +<p>"Well," Fishel reproved him as they sat in the cart, "well, Chfedor, a +nice way to behave, upon my word! Do you suppose I engaged you for a +merrymaking? What have you to say for yourself, I should like to know, +eh?"</p> + +<p>And Fishel addressed other reproachful words to him, and never ceased +casting the other's laziness between his teeth, partly in Polish, partly +in Hebrew, and helping himself out with his hands. Chfedor understood +quite well what Fishel meant, but he answered him not a word, not a +syllable even. No doubt he felt that Fishel was in the right, and he was +silent as a cat, till, on the fourth day, they met Yainkel-Shegetz, +driving back from Chaschtschevate with a rumble and a<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a> crack of his +whip, who called out to them, "You may as well turn back to Balta, the +Bug has burst the ice."</p> + +<p>Fishel's heart was like to burst, too, but Chfedor, who thought that +Yainkel was trying to fool him a second time, started repeating his +whole list of curses, called down all bad dreams on Yainkel's hands and +feet, and never shut his mouth till they came to the Bug on Thursday +evening. They drove straight to Prokop Baranyùk, the ferryman, to +inquire when the ferry-boat would begin to run, and the two Gentiles, +Chfedor and Prokop, took to sipping brandy, while Fishel proceeded to +recite the Afternoon Prayer.</p> + +<p class="top5">The sun was about to set, and poured a rosy light onto the high hills +that stood on either side of the river, and were snow-covered in parts +and already green in others, and intersected by rivulets that wound +their way with murmuring noise down into the river, where the water +foamed with the broken ice and the increasing thaw. The whole of +Chaschtschevate lay before him as on a plate, while the top of the +monastery sparkled like a light in the setting sun. Standing to recite +the Eighteen Benedictions, with his face towards Chaschtschevate, Fishel +turned his eyes away and drove out the idle thoughts and images that had +crept into his head: Bath-sheba with the new silk kerchief, Froike with +the Gemoreh, Resele with her plait, the hot bath and the highest bench, +and freshly-baked Matzes, together with nice peppered fish and +horseradish that goes up your nose, Passover borshtsh with more Matzes, +a heavenly mixture, and all the other good things that desire is<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a> +capable of conjuring up—and however often he drove these fancies away, +they returned and crept back into his brain like summer flies, and +disturbed him at his prayers.</p> + +<p>When Fishel had repeated the Eighteen Benedictions and Olenu, he betook +him to Prokop, and entered into conversation with him about the +ferry-boat and the festival eve, giving him to understand, partly in +Polish and partly in Hebrew and partly with his hands, what Passover +meant to the Jews, and Passover Eve falling on a Sabbath, and that if, +which Heaven forbid, he had not crossed the Bug by that time to-morrow, +he was a lost man, for, beside the fact that they were on the lookout +for him at home—his wife and children (Fishel gave a sigh that rent the +heart)—he would not be able to eat or drink for a week, and Fishel +turned away, so that the tears in his eyes should not be seen.</p> + +<p>Prokop Baranyùk quite appreciated Fishel's position, and replied that he +knew to-morrow was a Jewish festival, and even how it was called; he +even knew that the Jews celebrated it by drinking wine and strong +brandy; he even knew that there was yet another festival at which the +Jews drank brandy, and a third when all Jews were obliged to get drunk, +but he had forgotten its name—</p> + +<p>"Well and good," Fishel interrupted him in a lamentable voice, "but what +is to happen? How if I don't get there?"</p> + +<p>To this Prokop made no reply. He merely pointed with his hand to the +river, as much as to say, "See for yourself!"<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a></p> + +<p>And Fishel lifted up his eyes to the river, and saw that which he had +never seen before, and heard that which he had never heard in his life. +Because you may say that Fishel had never yet taken in anything "out of +doors," he had only perceived it accidentally, by the way, as he hurried +from Cheder to the house-of-study, and from the house-of-study to +Cheder. The beautiful blue Bug between the two lines of imposing hills, +the murmur of the winding rivulets as they poured down the hillsides, +the roar of the ever-deepening spring-flow, the light of the setting +sun, the glittering cupola of the convent, the wholesome smell of +Passover-Eve-tide out of doors, and, above all, the being so close to +home and not able to get there—all these things lent wings, as it were, +to Fishel's spirit, and he was borne into a new world, the world of +imagination, and crossing the Bug seemed the merest trifle, if only the +Almighty were willing to perform a fraction of a miracle on his behalf.</p> + +<p>Such and like thoughts floated in and out of Fishel's head, and lifted +him into the air, and so far across the river, he never realized that it +was night, and the stars came out, and a cool wind blew in under his +cloak to his little prayer-scarf, and Fishel was busy with things that +he had never so much as dreamt of: earthly things and Heavenly things, +the great size of the beautiful world, the Almighty as Creator of the +earth, and so on.</p> + +<p>Fishel spent a bad night in Prokop's house—such a night as he hoped +never to spend again. The next morning broke with a smile from the +bright and cheerful sun. It was a singularly fine day, and so sweetly +warm that all the snow left melted into kasha, and<a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a> the kasha, into +water, and this water poured into the Bug from all sides; and the Bug +became clearer, light blue, full and smooth, and the large bits of ice +that looked like dreadful wild beasts, like white elephants hurrying and +tearing along as if they were afraid of being late, grew rarer.</p> + +<p>Fishel the teacher recited the Morning Prayer, breakfasted on the last +piece of leavened bread left in his prayer-scarf bag, and went out to +the river to see about the ferry. Imagine his feelings when he heard +that the ferry-boat would not begin running before Sunday afternoon! He +clapped both hands to his head, gesticulated with every limb, and fell +to abusing Prokop. Why had he given him hopes of the ferry-boat's +crossing next day? Whereupon Prokop answered quite coolly that he had +said nothing about crossing with the ferry, he was talking of taking him +across in a small boat! And that he could still do, if Fishel wished, in +a sail-boat, in a rowboat, in a raft, and the fare was not less than one +ruble.</p> + +<p>"A raft, a rowboat, anything you like, only don't let me spend the +festival away from home!"</p> + +<p>Thus Fishel, and he was prepared to give him two rubles then and there, +to give his life for the holy festival, and he began to drive Prokop +into getting out the raft at once, and taking him across in the +direction of Chaschtschevate, where Bath-sheba, Froike, and Resele are +already looking out for him. It may be they are standing on the opposite +hills, that they see him, and make signs to him, waving their hands, +that they call to him, only one can neither see them nor hear<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a> their +voices, because the river is wide, dreadfully wide, wider than ever!</p> + +<p>The sun was already half-way up the deep, blue sky, when Prokop told +Fishel to get into the little trough of a boat, and when Fishel heard +him, he lost all power in his feet and hands, and was at a loss what to +do, for never in his life had he been in a rowboat, never in his life +had he been in any small boat. And it seemed to him the thing had only +to dip a little to one side, and all would be over.</p> + +<p>"Jump in, and off we'll go!" said Prokop once more, and with a turn of +his oar he brought the boat still closer in, and took Fishel's bundle +out of his hands.</p> + +<p>Fishel the teacher drew his coat-skirts neatly together, and began to +perform circles without moving from the spot, hesitating whether to jump +or not. On the one hand were Passover Eve, Bath-sheba, Froike, Resele, +the bath, the home service, himself as king; on the other, peril of +death, the Destroying Angel, suicide—because one dip and—good-by, +Fishel, peace be upon him!</p> + +<p>And Fishel remained circling there with his folded skirts, till Prokop +lost patience and said, another minute, and he should set out and be off +to Chaschtschevate without him. At the beloved word "Chaschtschevate," +Fishel called his dear ones to mind, summoned the whole of his courage, +and fell into the boat. I say "fell in," because the instant his foot +touched the bottom of the boat, it slipped, and Fishel, thinking he was +falling, drew back, and this drawing back sent him headlong forward into +the boat-bottom, where he lay stretched out for some minutes before +recovering his<a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a> wits, and for a long time after his face was livid, and +his hands shook, while his heart beat like a clock, tik-tik-tak, +tik-tik-tak!</p> + +<p>Prokop meantime sat in the prow as though he were at home. He spit into +his hands, gave a stroke with the oar to the left, a stroke to the +right, and the boat glided over the shining water, and Fishel's head +spun round as he sat. As he sat? No, he hung floating, suspended in the +air! One false movement, and that which held him would give way; one +lean to the side, and he would be in the water and done with! At this +thought, the words came into his mind, "And they sank like lead in the +mighty waters," and his hair stood on end at the idea of such a death. +How? Not even to be buried with the dead of Israel? And he bethought +himself to make a vow to—to do what? To give money in charity? He had +none to give—he was a very, very poor man! So he vowed that if God +would bring him home in safety, he would sit up whole nights and study, +go through the whole of the Talmud in one year, God willing, with God's +help.</p> + +<p>Fishel would dearly have liked to know if it were much further to the +other side, and found himself seated, as though on purpose, with his +face to Prokop and his back to Chaschtschevate. And he dared not open +his mouth to ask. It seemed to him that his very voice would cause the +boat to rock, and one rock—good-by, Fishel! But Prokop opened his mouth +of his own accord, and began to speak. He said there was nothing worse +when you were on the water than a thaw. It made it impossible, he said, +to row straight ahead;<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a> one had to adapt one's course to the ice, to row +round and round and backwards.</p> + +<p>"There's a bit of ice making straight for us now."</p> + +<p>Thus Prokop, and he pulled back and let pass a regular ice-floe, which +swam by with a singular rocking motion and a sound that Fishel had never +seen or heard before. And then he began to understand what a wild +adventure this journey was, and he would have given goodness knows what +to be safe on shore, even on the one they had left.</p> + +<p>"O, you see that?" asked Prokop, and pointed upstream.</p> + +<p>Fishel raised his eyes slowly, was afraid of moving much, and looked and +looked, and saw nothing but water, water, and water.</p> + +<p>"There's a big one coming down on us now, we must make a dash for it, +for it's too late to row back."</p> + +<p>So said Prokop, and rowed away with both hands, and the boat glided and +slid like a fish through the water, and Fishel felt cold in every limb. +He would have liked to question, but was afraid of interfering. However, +again Prokop spoke of himself.</p> + +<p>"If we don't win by a minute, it will be the worse for us."</p> + +<p>Fishel can now no longer contain himself, and asks:</p> + +<p>"How do you mean, the worse?"</p> + +<p>"We shall be done for," says Prokop.</p> + +<p>"Done for?"</p> + +<p>"Done for."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean, done for?" persists Fishel.</p> + +<p>"I mean, it will grind us."</p> + +<p>"Grind us?"<a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a></p> + +<p>"Grind us."</p> + +<p>Fishel does not understand what "grind us, grind us" may signify, but it +has a sound of finality, of the next world, about it, and Fishel is +bathed in a cold sweat, and again the words come into his head, "And +they sank like lead in the mighty waters."</p> + +<p>And Prokop, as though to quiet our Fishel's mind, tells him a comforting +story of how, years ago at this time, the Bug broke through the ice, and +the ferry-boat could not be used, and there came to him another person +to be rowed across, an excise official from Uman, quite a person of +distinction, and offered a large sum; and they had the bad luck to meet +two huge pieces of ice, and he rowed to the right, in between the floes, +intending to slip through upwards, and he made an involuntary side +motion with the boat, and they went flop into the water! Fortunately, +he, Prokop, could swim, but the official came to grief, and the +fare-money, too.</p> + +<p>"It was good-by to my fare!" ended Prokop, with a sigh, and Fishel +shuddered, and his tongue dried up, so that he could neither speak nor +utter the slightest sound.</p> + +<p>In the very middle of the river, just as they were rowing along quite +smoothly, Prokop suddenly stopped, and looked—and looked—up the +stream; then he laid down the oars, drew a bottle out of his pocket, +tilted it into his mouth, sipped out of it two or three times, put it +back, and explained to Fishel that he had always to take a few sips of +the "bitter drop," otherwise he felt bad when on the water. And he wiped +his<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a> mouth, took the oars in hand again, and said, having crossed +himself three times:</p> + +<p>"Now for a race!"</p> + +<p>A race? With whom? With what? Fishel did not understand, and was afraid +to ask; but again he felt the brush of the Death Angel's wing, for +Prokop had gone down onto his knees, and was rowing with might and main. +Moreover, he said to Fishel, and pointed to the bottom of the boat:</p> + +<p>"Rebbe, lie down!"</p> + +<p>Fishel understood that he was to lie down, and did not need to be told +twice. For now he had seen a whole host of floes coming down upon them, +a world of ice, and he shut his eyes, flung himself face downwards in +the boat, and lay trembling like a lamb, and recited in a low voice, +"Hear, O Israel!" and the Confession, thought on the graves of Israel, +and fancied that now, now he lies in the abyss of the waters, now, now +comes a fish and swallows him, like Jonah the prophet when he fled to +Tarshish, and he remembers Jonah's prayer, and sings softly and with +tears:</p> + +<p>"Affofùni màyyim ad nòfesh—the waters have reached unto my soul; tehòm +yesovèveni—the deep hath covered me!"</p> + +<p>Fishel the teacher sang and wept and thought pitifully of his widowed +wife and his orphaned children, and Prokop rowed for all he was worth, +and sang <i>his</i> little song:</p> + +<p>"O thou maiden with the black lashes!"</p> + +<p>And Prokop felt the same on the water as on dry land, and Fishel's +"Affofùni" and Prokop's "O maiden"<a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a> blended into one, and a strange song +sounded over the Bug, a kind of duet, which had never been heard there +before.</p> + +<p>"The black year knows why he is so afraid of death, that Jew," so +wondered Prokop Baranyùk, "a poor tattered little Jew like him, a +creature I would not give this old boat for, and so afraid of death!"</p> + +<p>The shore reached, Prokop gave Fishel a shove in the side with his boot, +and Fishel started. The Gentile burst out laughing, but Fishel did not +hear, Fishel went on reciting the Confession, saying Kaddish for his own +soul, and mentally contemplating the graves of Israel!</p> + +<p>"Get up, you silly Rebbe! We're there—in Chaschtschevate!"</p> + +<p>Slowly, slowly, Fishel raised his head, and gazed around him with red +and swollen eyes.</p> + +<p>"Chasch-tsche-va-te???"</p> + +<p>"Chaschtschevate! Give me the ruble, Rebbe!"</p> + +<p>Fishel crawls out of the boat, and, finding himself really at home, does +not know what to do for joy. Shall he run into the town? Shall he go +dancing? Shall he first thank and praise God who has brought him safe +out of such great peril? He pays the Gentile his fare, takes up his +bundle under his arm and is about to run home, the quicker the better, +but he pauses a moment first, and turns to Prokop the ferryman:</p> + +<p>"Listen, Prokop, dear heart, to-morrow, please God, you'll come and +drink a glass of brandy, and taste festival fish at Fishel the +teacher's, for Heaven's sake!"<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a></p> + +<p>"Shall I say no? Am I such a fool?" replied Prokop, licking his lips in +anticipation at the thought of the Passover brandy he would sip, and the +festival fish he would delectate himself with on the morrow.</p> + +<p>And Prokop gets back into his boat, and pulls quietly home again, +singing a little song, and pitying the poor Jew who was so afraid of +death. "The Jewish faith is the same as the Mahommedan!" and it seems to +him a very foolish one. And Fishel is thinking almost the same thing, +and pities the Gentile on account of <i>his</i> religion. "What knows he, yon +poor Gentile, of such holy promises as were made to us Jews, the beloved +people!"</p> + +<p>And Fishel the teacher hastens uphill, through the Chaschtschevate mud. +He perspires with the exertion, and yet he does not feel the ground +beneath his feet. He flies, he floats, he is going home, home to his +dear ones, who are on the watch for him as for Messiah, who look for him +to return in health, to seat himself upon his kingly throne and reign.</p> + +<p>Look, Jews, and turn respectfully aside! Fishel the teacher has come +home to Chaschtschevate, and seated himself upon the throne of his +kingdom!<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="AN_EASY_FAST" id="AN_EASY_FAST"></a>AN EASY FAST</h3> + +<p>That which Doctor Tanner failed to accomplish, was effectually carried +out by Chayyim Chaikin, a simple Jew in a small town in Poland.</p> + +<p>Doctor Tanner wished to show that a man can fast forty days, and he only +managed to get through twenty-eight, no more, and that with people +pouring spoonfuls of water into his mouth, and giving him morsels of ice +to swallow, and holding his pulse—a whole business! Chayyim Chaikin has +proved that one can fast more than forty days; not, as a rule, two +together, one after the other, but forty days, if not more, in the +course of a year.</p> + +<p>To fast is all he asks!</p> + +<p>Who said drops of water? Who said ice? Not for him! To fast means no +food and no drink from one set time to the other, a real +four-and-twenty-hours.</p> + +<p>And no doctors sit beside him and hold his pulse, whispering, "Hush! Be +quiet!"</p> + +<p>Well, let us hear the tale!</p> + +<p>Chayyim Chaikin is a very poor man, encumbered with many children, and +they, the children, support him.</p> + +<p>They are mostly girls, and they work in a factory and make cigarette +wrappers, and they earn, some one gulden, others half a gulden, a day, +and that not every day. How about Sabbaths and festivals and "shtreik" +days? One should thank God for everything, even in<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a> their out-of-the-way +little town strikes are all the fashion!</p> + +<p>And out of that they have to pay rent—for a damp corner in a basement.</p> + +<p>To buy clothes and shoes for the lot of them! They have a dress each, +but they are two to every pair of shoes.</p> + +<p>And then food—such as it is! A bit of bread smeared with an onion, +sometimes groats, occasionally there is a bit of taran that burns your +heart out, so that after eating it for supper, you can drink a whole +night.</p> + +<p>When it comes to eating, the bread has to be portioned out like cake.</p> + +<p>"Oi, dos Essen, dos Essen seiers!"</p> + +<p>Thus Chaike, Chayyim Chaikin's wife, a poor, sick creature, who coughs +all night long.</p> + +<p>"No evil eye," says the father, and he looks at his children devouring +whole slices of bread, and would dearly like to take a mouthful himself, +only, if he does so, the two little ones, Fradke and Beilke, will go +supperless.</p> + +<p>And he cuts his portion of bread in two, and gives it to the little +ones, Fradke and Beilke.</p> + +<p>Fradke and Beilke stretch out their little thin, black hands, look into +their father's eyes, and don't believe him: perhaps he is joking? +Children are nashers, they play with father's piece of bread, till at +last they begin taking bites out of it. The mother sees and exclaims, +coughing all the while:</p> + +<p>"It is nothing but eating and stuffing!"<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a></p> + +<p>The father cannot bear to hear it, and is about to answer her, but he +keeps silent—he can't say anything, it is not for him to speak! Who is +he in the house? A broken potsherd, the last and least, no good to +anyone, no good to them, no good to himself.</p> + +<p>Because the fact is he does nothing, absolutely nothing; not because he +won't do anything, or because it doesn't befit him, but because there is +nothing to do—and there's an end of it! The whole townlet complains of +there being nothing to do! It is just a crowd of Jews driven together. +Delightful! They're packed like herrings in a barrel, they squeeze each +other close, all for love.</p> + +<p>"Well-a-day!" thinks Chaikin, "it's something to have children, other +people haven't even that. But to depend on one's children is quite +another thing and not a happy one!" Not that they grudge him his +keep—Heaven forbid! But he cannot take it from them, he really cannot!</p> + +<p>He knows how hard they work, he knows how the strength is wrung out of +them to the last drop, he knows it well!</p> + +<p>Every morsel of bread is a bit of their health and strength—he drinks +his children's blood! No, the thought is too dreadful!</p> + +<p>"Tatinke, why don't you eat?" ask the children.</p> + +<p>"To-day is a fast day with me," answers Chayyim Chaikin.</p> + +<p>"Another fast? How many fasts have you?"</p> + +<p>"Not so many as there are days in the week."<a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a></p> + +<p>And Chayyim Chaikin speaks the truth when he says that he has many +fasts, and yet there are days on which he eats.</p> + +<p>But he likes the days on which he fasts better.</p> + +<p>First, they are pleasing to God, and it means a little bit more of the +world-to-come, the interest grows, and the capital grows with it.</p> + +<p>"Secondly" (he thinks), "no money is wasted on me. Of course, I am +accountable to no one, and nobody ever questions me as to how I spend +it, but what do I want money for, when I can get along without it?</p> + +<p>"And what is the good of feeling one's self a little higher than a +beast? A beast eats every day, but I can go without food for one or two +days. A man <i>should</i> be above a beast!</p> + +<p>"O, if a man could only raise himself to a level where he could live +without eating at all! But there are one's confounded insides!" So +thinks Chayyim Chaikin, for hunger has made a philosopher of him.</p> + +<p>"The insides, the necessity of eating, these are the causes of the +world's evil! The insides and the necessity of eating have made a pauper +of me, and drive my children to toil in the sweat of their brow and risk +their lives for a bit of bread!</p> + +<p>"Suppose a man had no need to eat! Ai—ai—ai! My children would all +stay at home! An end to toil, an end to moil, an end to 'shtreikeven,' +an end to the risking of life, an end to factory and factory owners, to +rich men and paupers, an end to jealousy and hatred and fighting and +shedding of blood! All gone and done with! Gone and done with! A +paradise! a paradise!"<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a></p> + +<p>So reasons Chayyim Chaikin, and, lost in speculation, he pities the +world, and is grieved to the heart to think that God should have made +man so little above the beast.</p> + +<p class="top5">The day on which Chayyim Chaikin fasts is, as I told you, his best day, +and a <i>real</i> fast day, like the Ninth of Ab, for instance—he is ashamed +to confess it—is a festival for him!</p> + +<p>You see, it means not to eat, not to be a beast, not to be guilty of the +children's blood, to earn the reward of a Mitzveh, and to weep to +heart's content on the ruins of the Temple.</p> + +<p>For how can one weep when one is full? How can a full man grieve? Only +he can grieve whose soul is faint within him! The good year knows how +some folk answer it to their conscience, giving in to their +insides—afraid of fasting! Buy them a groschen worth of oats, for +charity's sake!</p> + +<p>Thus would Chayyim Chaikin scorn those who bought themselves off the +fast, and dropped a hard coin into the collecting box.</p> + +<p>The Ninth of Ab is the hardest fast of all—so the world has it.</p> + +<p>Chayyim Chaikin cannot see why. The day is long, is it? Then the night +is all the shorter. It's hot out of doors, is it? Who asks you to go +loitering about in the sun? Sit in the Shool and recite the prayers, of +which, thank God, there are plenty.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," persists Chayyim Chaikin, "that the Ninth of Ab is the +easiest of the fasts, because it is the best, the very best!<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a></p> + +<p>"For instance, take the Day of Atonement fast! It is written, 'And you +shall mortify your bodies.' What for? To get a clean bill and a good +year.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't say that you are to fast on the Ninth of Ab, but you fast of +your own accord, because how could you eat on the day when the Temple +was wrecked, and Jews were killed, women ripped up, and children dashed +to pieces?</p> + +<p>"It doesn't say that you are to weep on the Ninth of Ab, but you <i>do</i> +weep. How could anyone restrain his tears when he thinks of what we lost +that day?"</p> + +<p>"The pity is, there should be only one Ninth of Ab!" says Chayyim +Chaikin.</p> + +<p>"Well, and the Seventeenth of Tammuz!" suggests some one.</p> + +<p>"And there is only one Seventeenth of Tammuz!" answers Chayyim Chaikin, +with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Well, and the Fast of Gedaliah? and the Fast of Esther?" continues the +same person.</p> + +<p>"Only one of each!" and Chayyim Chaikin sighs again.</p> + +<p>"Ê, Reb Chayyim, you are greedy for fasts, are you?"</p> + +<p>"More fasts, more fasts!" says Chayyim Chaikin, and he takes upon +himself to fast on the eve of the Ninth of Ab as well, two days at a +stretch.</p> + +<p>What do you think of fasting two days in succession? Isn't that a treat? +It is hard enough to have to break one's fast after the Ninth of Ab, +without eating on the eve thereof as well.</p> + +<p>One forgets that one <i>has</i> insides, that such a thing exists as the +necessity to eat, and one is free of the habit that drags one down to +the level of the beast.<a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a></p> + +<p>The difficulty lies in the drinking! I mean, in the <i>not</i> drinking. "If +I" (thinks Chayyim Chaikin) "allowed myself one glass of water a day, I +could fast a whole week till Sabbath."</p> + +<p>You think I say that for fun? Not at all! Chayyim Chaikin is a man of +his word. When he says a thing, it's said and done! The whole week +preceding the Ninth of Ab he ate nothing, he lived on water.</p> + +<p>Who should notice? His wife, poor thing, is sick, the elder children are +out all day in the factory, and the younger ones do not understand. +Fradke and Beilke only know when they are hungry (and they are always +hungry), the heart yearns within them, and they want to eat.</p> + +<p>"To-day you shall have an extra piece of bread," says the father, and +cuts his own in two, and Fradke and Beilke stretch out their dirty +little hands for it, and are overjoyed.</p> + +<p>"Tatinke, you are not eating," remark the elder girls at supper, "this +is not a fast day!"</p> + +<p>"And no more <i>do</i> I fast!" replies the father, and thinks: "That was a +take-in, but not a lie, because, after all, a glass of water—that is +not eating and not fasting, either."</p> + +<p>When it comes to the eve of the Ninth of Ab, Chayyim feels so light and +airy as he never felt before, not because it is time to prepare for the +fast by taking a meal, not because he may eat. On the contrary, he feels +that if he took anything solid into his mouth, it would not go down, but +stick in his throat.</p> + +<p>That is, his heart is very sick, and his hands and feet shake; his body +is attracted earthwards, his strength<a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a> fails, he feels like fainting. +But fie, what an idea! To fast a whole week, to arrive at the eve of the +Ninth of Ab, and not hold out to the end! Never!</p> + +<p>And Chayyim Chaikin takes his portion of bread and potato, calls Fradke +and Beilke, and whispers:</p> + +<p>"Children, take this and eat it, but don't let Mother see!"</p> + +<p>And Fradke and Beilke take their father's share of food, and look +wonderingly at his livid face and shaking hands.</p> + +<p>Chayyim sees the children snatch at the bread and munch and swallow, and +he shuts his eyes, and rises from his place. He cannot wait for the +other girls to come home from the factory, but takes his book of +Lamentations, puts off his shoes, and drags himself—it is all he can +do—to the Shool.</p> + +<p>He is nearly the first to arrive. He secures a seat next the reader, on +an overturned bench, lying with its feet in the air, and provides +himself with a bit of burned-down candle, which he glues with its +drippings to the foot of the bench, leans against the corner of the +platform, opens his book, "Lament for Zion and all the other towns," and +he closes his eyes and sees Zion robed in black, with a black veil over +her face, lamenting and weeping and wringing her hands, mourning for her +children who fall daily, daily, in foreign lands, for other men's sins.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"And wilt not thou, O Zion, ask of me</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Some tidings of the children from thee reft?</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> I bring thee greetings over land and sea,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">From those remaining—from the remnant left!——"</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>And he opens his eyes and sees:<a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a></p> + +<p>A bright sunbeam has darted in through the dull, dusty window-pane, a +beam of the sun which is setting yonder behind the town. And though he +shuts them again, he still sees the beam, and not only the beam, but the +whole sun, the bright, beautiful sun, and no one can see it but him! +Chayyim Chaikin looks at the sun and sees it—and that's all! How is it? +It must be because he has done with the world and its necessities—he +feels happy—he feels light—he can bear anything—he will have an easy +fast—do you know, he will have an easy fast, an easy fast!</p> + +<p>Chayyim Chaikin shuts his eyes, and sees a strange world, a new world, +such as he never saw before. Angels seem to hover before his eyes, and +he looks at them, and recognizes his children in them, all his children, +big and little, and he wants to say something to them, and cannot +speak—he wants to explain to them, that he cannot help it—it is not +his fault! How should it, no evil eye! be his fault, that so many Jews +are gathered together in one place and squeeze each other, all for love, +squeeze each other to death for love? How can he help it, if people +desire other people's sweat, other people's blood? if people have not +learned to see that one should not drive a man as a horse is driven to +work? that a horse is also to be pitied, one of God's creatures, a +living thing?——</p> + +<p>And Chayyim Chaikin keeps his eyes shut, and sees, sees everything. And +everything is bright and light, and curls like smoke, and he feels +something is going out of him, from inside, from his heart, and is drawn +upward and loses itself from the body, and he feels<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a> very light, very, +very light, and he gives a sigh—a long, deep sigh—and feels still +lighter, and after that he feels nothing at all—absolutely nothing at +all—</p> + +<p>Yes, he has an easy fast.</p> + +<p class="top5">When Bäre the beadle, a red-haired Jew with thick lips, came into the +Shool in his socks with the worn-down heels, and saw Chayyim Chaikin +leaning with his head back, and his eyes open, he was angry, thought +Chayyim was dozing, and he began to grumble:</p> + +<p>"He ought to be ashamed of himself—reclining like that—came here for a +nap, did he?—Reb Chayyim, excuse me, Reb Chayyim!——"</p> + +<p>But Chayyim Chaikin did not hear him.</p> + +<p class="top5">The last rays of the sun streamed in through the Shool window, right +onto Chayyim Chaikin's quiet face with the black, shining, curly hair, +the black, bushy brows, the half-open, black, kindly eyes, and lit the +dead, pale, still, hungry face through and through.</p> + +<p class="top5">I told you how it would be: Chayyim Chaikin had an easy fast!<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_PASSOVER_GUEST" id="THE_PASSOVER_GUEST"></a>THE PASSOVER GUEST</h3> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>"I have a Passover guest for you, Reb Yoneh, such a guest as you never +had since you became a householder."</p> + +<p>"What sort is he?"</p> + +<p>"A real Oriental citron!"</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means a 'silken Jew,' a personage of distinction. The only thing +against him is—he doesn't speak our language."</p> + +<p>"What does he speak, then?"</p> + +<p>"Hebrew."</p> + +<p>"Is he from Jerusalem?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know where he comes from, but his words are full of a's."</p> + +<p>Such was the conversation that took place between my father and the +beadle, a day before Passover, and I was wild with curiosity to see the +"guest" who didn't understand Yiddish, and who talked with a's. I had +already noticed, in synagogue, a strange-looking individual, in a fur +cap, and a Turkish robe striped blue, red, and yellow. We boys crowded +round him on all sides, and stared, and then caught it hot from the +beadle, who said children had no business "to creep into a stranger's +face" like that. Prayers over, everyone greeted the stranger, and wished +him a happy Passover, and he, with a sweet smile on his red cheeks<a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a> set +in a round grey beard, replied to each one, "Shalom! Shalom!" instead of +our Sholom. This "Shalom! Shalom!" of his sent us boys into fits of +laughter. The beadle grew very angry, and pursued us with slaps. We +eluded him, and stole deviously back to the stranger, listened to his +"Shalom! Shalom!" exploded with laughter, and escaped anew from the +hands of the beadle.</p> + +<p>I am puffed up with pride as I follow my father and his guest to our +house, and feel how all my comrades envy me. They stand looking after +us, and every now and then I turn my head, and put out my tongue at +them. The walk home is silent. When we arrive, my father greets my +mother with "a happy Passover!" and the guest nods his head so that his +fur cap shakes. "Shalom! Shalom!" he says. I think of my comrades, and +hide my head under the table, not to burst out laughing. But I shoot +continual glances at the guest, and his appearance pleases me; I like +his Turkish robe, striped yellow, red, and blue, his fresh, red cheeks +set in a curly grey beard, his beautiful black eyes that look out so +pleasantly from beneath his bushy eyebrows. And I see that my father is +pleased with him, too, that he is delighted with him. My mother looks at +him as though he were something more than a man, and no one speaks to +him but my father, who offers him the cushioned reclining-seat at table.</p> + +<p>Mother is taken up with the preparations for the Passover meal, and +Rikel the maid is helping her. It is only when the time comes for saying +Kiddush that my father and the guest hold a Hebrew conversation. I am +proud to find that I understand nearly every word of it. Here it is in +full.<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a></p> + +<p>My father: "Nu?" (That means, "Won't you please say Kiddush?")</p> + +<p>The guest: "Nu-nu!" (meaning, "Say it rather yourself!")</p> + +<p>My father: "Nu-O?" ("Why not you?")</p> + +<p>The guest: "O-nu?" ("Why should I?")</p> + +<p>My father: "I-O!" ("<i>You</i> first!")</p> + +<p>The guest: "O-ai!" ("You first!")</p> + +<p>My father: "È-o-i!" ("I beg of you to say it!")</p> + +<p>The guest: "Ai-o-ê!" ("I beg of you!")</p> + +<p>My father: "Ai-e-o-nu?" ("Why should you refuse?")</p> + +<p>The guest: "Oi-o-e-nu-nu!" ("If you insist, then I must.")</p> + +<p>And the guest took the cup of wine from my father's hand, and recited a +Kiddush. But what a Kiddush! A Kiddush such as we had never heard +before, and shall never hear again. First, the Hebrew—all a's. +Secondly, the voice, which seemed to come, not out of his beard, but out +of the striped Turkish robe. I thought of my comrades, how they would +have laughed, what slaps would have rained down, had they been present +at that Kiddush.</p> + +<p>Being alone, I was able to contain myself. I asked my father the Four +Questions, and we all recited the Haggadah together. And I was elated to +think that such a guest was ours, and no one else's.</p> + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>Our sage who wrote that one should not talk at meals (may he forgive me +for saying so!) did not know Jewish life. When shall a Jew find time to +talk, if not during<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a> a meal? Especially at Passover, when there is so +much to say before the meal and after it. Rikel the maid handed the +water, we washed our hands, repeated the Benediction, mother helped us +to fish, and my father turned up his sleeves, and started a long Hebrew +talk with the guest. He began with the first question one Jew asks +another:</p> + +<p>"What is your name?"</p> + +<p>To which the guest replied all in a's and all in one breath:</p> + +<p>"Ayak Bakar Gashal Damas Hanoch Vassam Za'an Chafaf Tatzatz."</p> + +<p>My father remained with his fork in the air, staring in amazement at the +possessor of so long a name. I coughed and looked under the table, and +my mother said, "Favele, you should be careful eating fish, or you might +be choked with a bone," while she gazed at our guest with awe. She +appeared overcome by his name, although unable to understand it. My +father, who understood, thought it necessary to explain it to her.</p> + +<p>"You see, Ayak Bakar, that is our Alef-Bes inverted. It is apparently +their custom to name people after the alphabet."</p> + +<p>"Alef-Bes! Alef-Bes!" repeated the guest with the sweet smile on his red +cheeks, and his beautiful black eyes rested on us all, including Rikel +the maid, in the most friendly fashion.</p> + +<p>Having learnt his name, my father was anxious to know whence, from what +land, he came. I understood this from the names of countries and towns +which I caught, and from what my father translated for my<a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a> mother, +giving her a Yiddish version of nearly every phrase. And my mother was +quite overcome by every single thing she heard, and Rikel the maid was +overcome likewise. And no wonder! It is not every day that a person +comes from perhaps two thousand miles away, from a land only to be +reached across seven seas and a desert, the desert journey alone +requiring forty days and nights. And when you get near to the land, you +have to climb a mountain of which the top reaches into the clouds, and +this is covered with ice, and dreadful winds blow there, so that there +is peril of death! But once the mountain is safely climbed, and the land +is reached, one beholds a terrestrial Eden. Spices, cloves, herbs, and +every kind of fruit—apples, pears, and oranges, grapes, dates, and +olives, nuts and quantities of figs. And the houses there are all built +of deal, and roofed with silver, the furniture is gold (here the guest +cast a look at our silver cups, spoons, forks, and knives), and +brilliants, pearls, and diamonds bestrew the roads, and no one cares to +take the trouble of picking them up, they are of no value there. (He was +looking at my mother's diamond ear-rings, and at the pearls round her +white neck.)</p> + +<p>"You hear that?" my father asked her, with a happy face.</p> + +<p>"I hear," she answered, and added: "Why don't they bring some over here? +They could make money by it. Ask him that, Yoneh!"</p> + +<p>My father did so, and translated the answer for my mother's benefit:</p> + +<p>"You see, when you arrive there, you may take what you like, but when +you leave the country, you must<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a> leave everything in it behind, too, and +if they shake out of you no matter what, you are done for."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" questioned my mother, terrified.</p> + +<p>"I mean, they either hang you on a tree, or they stone you with stones."</p> + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>The more tales our guest told us, the more thrilling they became, and +just as we were finishing the dumplings and taking another sip or two of +wine, my father inquired to whom the country belonged. Was there a king +there? And he was soon translating, with great delight, the following +reply:</p> + +<p>"The country belongs to the Jews who live there, and who are called +Sefardîm. And they have a king, also a Jew, and a very pious one, who +wears a fur cap, and who is called Joseph ben Joseph. He is the high +priest of the Sefardîm, and drives out in a gilded carriage, drawn by +six fiery horses. And when he enters the synagogue, the Levites meet him +with songs."</p> + +<p>"There are Levites who sing in your synagogue?" asked my father, +wondering, and the answer caused his face to shine with joy.</p> + +<p>"What do you think?" he said to my mother. "Our guest tells me that in +his country there is a temple, with priests and Levites and an organ."</p> + +<p>"Well, and an altar?" questioned my mother, and my father told her:</p> + +<p>"He says they have an altar, and sacrifices, he says, and golden +vessels—everything just as we used to have it in Jerusalem."<a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a></p> + +<p>And with these words my father sighs deeply, and my mother, as she looks +at him, sighs also, and I cannot understand the reason. Surely we should +be proud and glad to think we have such a land, ruled over by a Jewish +king and high priest, a land with Levites and an organ, with an altar +and sacrifices—and bright, sweet thoughts enfold me, and carry me away +as on wings to that happy Jewish land where the houses are of pine-wood +and roofed with silver, where the furniture is gold, and diamonds and +pearls lie scattered in the street. And I feel sure, were I really +there, I should know what to do—I should know how to hide things—they +would shake nothing out of <i>me</i>. I should certainly bring home a lovely +present for my mother, diamond ear-rings and several pearl necklaces. I +look at the one mother is wearing, at her ear-rings, and I feel a great +desire to be in that country. And it occurs to me, that after Passover I +will travel there with our guest, secretly, no one shall know. I will +only speak of it to our guest, open my heart to him, tell him the whole +truth, and beg him to take me there, if only for a little while. He will +certainly do so, he is a very kind and approachable person, he looks at +every one, even at Rikel the maid, in such a friendly, such a very +friendly way!</p> + +<p>"So I think, and it seems to me, as I watch our guest, that he has read +my thoughts, and that his beautiful black eyes say to me:</p> + +<p>"Keep it dark, little friend, wait till after Passover, then we shall +manage it!"<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a></p> + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>I dreamt all night long. I dreamt of a desert, a temple, a high priest, +and a tall mountain. I climb the mountain. Diamonds and pearls grow on +the trees, and my comrades sit on the boughs, and shake the jewels down +onto the ground, whole showers of them, and I stand and gather them, and +stuff them into my pockets, and, strange to say, however many I stuff +in, there is still room! I stuff and stuff, and still there is room! I +put my hand into my pocket, and draw out—not pearls and brilliants, but +fruits of all kinds—apples, pears, oranges, olives, dates, nuts, and +figs. This makes me very unhappy, and I toss from side to side. Then I +dream of the temple, I hear the priests chant, and the Levites sing, and +the organ play. I want to go inside and I cannot—Rikel the maid has +hold of me, and will not let me go. I beg of her and scream and cry, and +again I am very unhappy, and toss from side to side. I wake—and see my +father and mother standing there, half dressed, both pale, my father +hanging his head, and my mother wringing her hands, and with her soft +eyes full of tears. I feel at once that something has gone very wrong, +very wrong indeed, but my childish head is incapable of imagining the +greatness of the disaster.</p> + +<p>The fact is this: our guest from beyond the desert and the seven seas +has disappeared, and a lot of things have disappeared with him: all the +silver wine-cups, all the silver spoons, knives, and forks; all my +mother's ornaments, all the money that happened to be in the house, and +also Rikel the maid!<a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a></p> + +<p>A pang goes through my heart. Not on account of the silver cups, the +silver spoons, knives, and forks that have vanished; not on account of +mother's ornaments or of the money, still less on account of Rikel the +maid, a good riddance! But because of the happy, happy land whose roads +were strewn with brilliants, pearls, and diamonds; because of the temple +with the priests, the Levites, and the organ; because of the altar and +the sacrifices; because of all the other beautiful things that have been +taken from me, taken, taken, taken!</p> + +<p>I turn my face to the wall, and cry quietly to myself.<a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="GYMNASIYE" id="GYMNASIYE"></a>GYMNASIYE</h3> + +<p>A man's worst enemy, I tell you, will never do him the harm he does +himself, especially when a woman interferes, that is, a wife. Whom do +you think I have in mind when I say that? My own self! Look at me and +think. What would you take me for? Just an ordinary Jew. It doesn't say +on my nose whether I have money, or not, or whether I am very low +indeed, does it?</p> + +<p>It may be that I once <i>had</i> money, and not only that—money in itself is +nothing—but I can tell you, I earned a living, and that respectably and +quietly, without worry and flurry, not like some people who like to live +in a whirl.</p> + +<p>No, my motto is, "More haste, less speed."</p> + +<p>I traded quietly, went bankrupt a time or two quietly, and quietly went +to work again. But there is a God in the world, and He blessed me with a +wife—as she isn't here, we can speak openly—a wife like any other, +that is, at first glance she isn't so bad—not at all! In person, (no +evil eye!) twice my height; not an ugly woman, quite a beauty, you may +say; an intelligent woman, quite a man—and that's the whole trouble! +Oi, it isn't good when the wife is a man! The Almighty knew what He was +about when, at the creation, he formed Adam first and then Eve. But +what's the use of telling her that, when <i>she</i> says, "If the Almighty +created Adam first and then Eve, that's <i>His</i> affair, but if he put +more<a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a> sense into my heel than into your head, no more am I to blame for +that!"</p> + +<p>"What is all this about?" say I.—"It's about that which should be first +and foremost with you," says she.—"But I have to be the one to think of +everything—even about sending the boy to the Gymnasiye!"—"Where," say +I, "is it 'written' that my boy should go to the Gymnasiye? Can I not +afford to have him taught Torah at home?"—"I've told you a hundred and +fifty times," says she, "that you won't persuade me to go against the +world! And the world," says she, "has decided that children should go to +the Gymnasiye."—"In my opinion," say I, "the world is mad!"—"And you," +says she, "are the only sane person in it? A pretty thing it would be," +says she, "if the world were to follow you!"—"Every man," say I, +"should decide on his own course."—"If my enemies," says she, "and my +friends' enemies, had as little in pocket and bag, in box and chest, as +you have in your head, the world would be a different place."—"Woe to +the man," say I, "who needs to be advised by his wife!"—"And woe to the +wife," says she, "who has that man to her husband!"—Now if you can +argue with a woman who, when you say one thing, maintains the contrary, +when you give her one word, treats you to a dozen, and who, if you bid +her shut up, cries, or even, I beg of you, faints—well, I envy you, +that's all! In short, up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it—she, not I, because the fact is, when she wants a thing, it +has to be!</p> + +<p>Well, what next? Gymnasiye! The first thing was to prepare the boy for +the elementary class in the<a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a> Junior Preparatory. I must say, I did not +see anything very alarming in that. It seemed to me that anyone of our +Cheder boys, an Alef-Bes scholar, could tuck it all into his belt, +especially a boy like mine, for whose equal you might search an empire, +and not find him. I am a father, not of you be it said! but that boy has +a memory that beats everything! To cut a long story short, he went up +for examination and—did <i>not</i> pass! You ask the reason? He only got a +two in arithmetic; they said he was weak at calculation, in the science +of mathematics. What do you think of that? He has a memory that beats +everything! I tell you, you might search an empire for his like—and +they come talking to me about mathematics! Well, he failed to pass, and +it vexed me very much. If he <i>was</i> to go up for examination, let him +succeed. However, being a man and not a woman, I made up my mind to +it—it's a misfortune, but a Jew is used to that. Only what was the use +of talking to <i>her</i> with that bee in her bonnet? Once for all, +Gymnasiye! I reason with her. "Tell me," say I, "(may you be well!) what +is the good of it? He's safe," say I, "from military service, being an +only son, and as for Parnosseh, devil I need it for Parnosseh! What do I +care if he <i>does</i> become a trader like his father, a merchant like the +rest of the Jews? If he is destined to become a rich man, a banker, I +don't see that I'm to be pitied."</p> + +<p>Thus do I reason with her as with the wall. "So much the better," says +she, "if he has <i>not</i> been entered for the Junior Preparatory."—"What +now?" say I.</p> + +<p>"Now," says she, "he can go direct to the Senior Preparatory."<a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a></p> + +<p>Well, Senior Preparatory, there's nothing so terrible in that, for the +boy has a head, I tell you! You might search an empire.... And what was +the result? Well, what do you suppose? Another two instead of a five, +not in mathematics this time—a fresh calamity! His spelling is not what +it should be. That is, he can spell all right, but he gets a bit mixed +with the two Russian e's. That is, he puts them in right enough, why +shouldn't he? only not in their proper places. Well, there's a +misfortune for you! I guess I won't find the way to Poltava fair if the +child cannot put the e's where they belong! When they brought the good +news, <i>she</i> turned the town inside out; ran to the director, declared +that the boy <i>could</i> do it; to prove it, let him be had up again! They +paid her as much attention as if she were last year's snow, put a two, +and another sort of two, and a two with a dash! Call me nut-crackers, +but there was a commotion. "Failed again!" say I to her. "And if so," +say I, "what is to be done? Are we to commit suicide? A Jew," say I, "is +used to that sort of thing," upon which she fired up and blazed away and +stormed and scolded as only she can. But I let you off! He, poor child, +was in a pitiable state. Talk of cruelty to animals! Just think: the +other boys in little white buttons, and not he! I reason with him: "You +little fool! What does it matter? Who ever heard of an examination at +which everyone passed? Somebody must stay at home, mustn't they? Then +why not you? There's really nothing to make such a fuss about." My wife, +overhearing, goes off into a fresh fury, and falls upon me. "A fine +comforter <i>you</i> are,"<a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a> says she, "who asked you to console him with that +sort of nonsense? You'd better see about getting him a proper teacher," +says she, "a private teacher, a Russian, for grammar!"</p> + +<p>You hear that? Now I must have two teachers for him—one teacher and a +Rebbe are not enough. Up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it, as usual.</p> + +<p>What next? We engaged a second teacher, a Russian this time, not a Jew, +preserve us, but a real Gentile, because grammar in the first class, let +me tell you, is no trifle, no shredded horseradish! Gra-ma-ti-ke, +indeed! The two e's! Well, I was telling about the teacher that God sent +us for our sins. It's enough to make one blush to remember the way he +treated us, as though we had been the mud under his feet. Laughed at us +to our face, he did, devil take him, and the one and only thing he could +teach him was: tshasnok, tshasnoka, tshasnoku, tshasnokom. If it hadn't +been for <i>her</i>, I should have had him by the throat, and out into the +street with his blessed grammar. But to <i>her</i> it was all right and as it +should be. Now the boy will know which e to put. If you'll believe me, +they tormented him through that whole winter, for he was not to be had +up for slaughter till about Pentecost. Pentecost over, he went up for +examination, and this time he brought home no more two's, but a four and +a five. There was great joy—we congratulate! we congratulate! Wait a +bit, don't be in such a hurry with your congratulations! We don't know +yet for certain whether he has got in or not. We shall not know till<a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a> +August. Why not till August? Why not before? Go and ask <i>them</i>. What is +to be done? A Jew is used to that sort of thing.</p> + +<p>August—and I gave a glance out of the corner of my eye. She was up and +doing! From the director to the inspector, from the inspector to the +director! "Why are you running from Shmunin to Bunin," say I, "like a +poisoned mouse?"</p> + +<p>"You asking why?" says she. "Aren't you a native of this place? You +don't seem to know how it is nowadays with the Gymnasiyes and the +percentages?" And what came of it? He did <i>not</i> pass! You ask why? +Because he hadn't two fives. If he had had two fives, then, they say, +perhaps he would have got in. You hear—perhaps! How do you like that +<i>perhaps</i>? Well, I'll let you off what I had to bear from her. As for +him, the little boy, it was pitiful. Lay with his face in the cushion, +and never stopped crying till we promised him another teacher. And we +got him a student from the Gymnasiye itself, to prepare him for the +second class, but after quite another fashion, because the second class +is no joke. In the second, besides mathematics and grammar, they require +geography, penmanship, and I couldn't for the life of me say what else. +I should have thought a bit of the Maharsho was a more difficult thing +than all their studies put together, and very likely had more sense in +it, too. But what would you have? A Jew learns to put up with things.</p> + +<p>In fine, there commenced a series of "lessons," of ouròkki. We rose +early—the ouròkki! Prayers and breakfast over—the ouròkki. A whole +day—ouròkki.<a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a> One heard him late at night drumming it over and over: +Nominative—dative—instrumental—vocative! It grated so on my ears! I +could hardly bear it. Eat? Sleep? Not he! Taking a poor creature and +tormenting it like that, all for nothing, I call it cruelty to animals! +"The child," say I, "will be ill!" "Bite off your tongue," says she. I +was nowhere, and he went up a second time to the slaughter, and brought +home nothing but fives! And why not? I tell you, he has a head—there +isn't his like! And such a boy for study as never was, always at it, day +and night, and repeating to himself between whiles! That's all right +then, is it? Was it all right? When it came to the point, and they hung +out the names of all the children who were really entered, we +looked—mine wasn't there! Then there was a screaming and a commotion. +What a shame! And nothing but fives! <i>Now</i> look at her, now see her go, +see her run, see her do this and that! In short, she went and she ran +and she did this and that and the other—until at last they begged her +not to worry them any longer, that is, to tell you the truth, between +ourselves, they turned her out, yes! And after they had turned her out, +then it was she burst into the house, and showed for the first time, as +it were, what she was worth. "Pray," said she, "what sort of a father +are you? If you were a good father, an affectionate father, like other +fathers, you would have found favor with the director, patronage, +recommendations, this—that!" Like a woman, wasn't it? It's not enough, +apparently, for me to have my head full of terms and seasons and fairs +and notes and bills of exchange and "protests" and all<a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> the rest of it. +"Do you want me," say I, "to take over your Gymnasiye and your classes, +things I'm sick of already?" Do you suppose she listened to what I said? +She? Listen? She just kept at it, she sawed and filed and gnawed away +like a worm, day and night, day and night! "If your wife," says she, +"<i>were</i> a wife, and your child, a child—if I were only of <i>so</i> much +account in this house!"—"Well," say I, "what would happen?"—"You would +lie," says she, "nine ells deep in the earth. I," says she, "would bury +you three times a day, so that you should never rise again!"</p> + +<p>How do you like that? Kind, wasn't it? That (how goes the saying?) was +pouring a pailful of water over a husband for the sake of peace. Of +course, you'll understand that I was not silent, either, because, after +all, I'm no more than a man, and every man has his feelings. I assure +you, you needn't envy me, and in the end <i>she</i> carried the day, as +usual.</p> + +<p>Well, what next? I began currying favor, getting up an acquaintance, +trying this and that; I had to lower myself in people's eyes and swallow +slights, for every one asked questions, and they had every right to do +so. "You, no evil eye, Reb Aaron," say they, "are a householder, and +inherited a little something from your father. What good year is taking +you about to places where a Jew had better not be seen?" Was I to go and +tell them I had a wife (may she live one hundred and twenty years!) with +this on the brain: Gymnasiye, Gymnasiye, and Gym-na-si-ye? I (much good +may it do you!) am, as you see me, no more unlucky than most people, and +with God's help I made<a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a> my way, and got where I wanted, right up to the +nobleman, into his cabinet, yes! And sat down with him there to talk it +over. I thank Heaven, I can talk to any nobleman, I don't need to have +my tongue loosened for me. "What can I do for you?" he asks, and bids me +be seated. Say I, and whisper into his ear, "My lord," say I, "we," say +I, "are not rich people, but we have," say I, "a boy, and he wishes to +study, and I," say I, "wish it, too, but my wife wishes it very much!" +Says he to me again, "What is it you want?" Say I to him, and edge a bit +closer, "My dear lord," say I, "we," say I, "are not rich people, but we +have," say I, "a small fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say +I, "wishes to study; and I," say I, "also wish it, but my wife wishes it +<i>very much</i>!" and I squeeze that "very much" so that he may understand. +But he's a Gentile and slow-witted, and he doesn't twig, and this time +he asks angrily, "Then, whatever is it you want?!" I quietly put my hand +into my pocket and quietly take it out again, and I say quietly: "Pardon +me, we," say I, "are not rich people, but we have a little," say I, +"fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say I, "wishes to study; +and I," say I, "wish it also, but my wife," say I, "wishes it very much +indeed!" and I take and press into his hand——and this time, yes! he +understood, and went and got a note-book, and asked my name and my son's +name, and which class I wanted him entered for.</p> + +<p>"Oho, lies the wind that way?" think I to myself, and I give him to +understand that I am called Katz, Aaron Katz, and my son, Moisheh, +Moshke we call him, and I<a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a> want to get him into the third class. Says he +to me, if I am Katz, and my son is Moisheh, Moshke we call him, and he +wants to get into class three, I am to bring him in January, and he will +certainly be passed. You hear and understand? Quite another thing! +Apparently the horse trots as we shoe him. The worst is having to wait. +But what is to be done? When they say, Wait! one waits. A Jew is used to +waiting.</p> + +<p>January—a fresh commotion, a scampering to and fro. To-morrow there +will be a consultation. The director and the inspector and all the +teachers of the Gymnasiye will come together, and it's only after the +consultation that we shall know if he is entered or not. The time for +action has come, and my wife is anywhere but at home. No hot meals, no +samovar, no nothing! She is in the Gymnasiye, that is, not <i>in</i> the +Gymnasiye, but <i>at</i> it, walking round and round it in the frost, from +first thing in the morning, waiting for them to begin coming away from +the consultation. The frost bites, there is a tearing east wind, and she +paces round and round the building, and waits. Once a woman, always a +woman! It seemed to me, that when people have made a promise, it is +surely sacred, especially—you understand? But who would reason with a +woman? Well, she waited one hour, she waited two, waited three, waited +four; the children were all home long ago, and she waited on. She waited +(much good may it do you!) till she got what she was waiting for. A door +opens, and out comes one of the teachers. She springs and seizes hold on +him. Does he know the result of the consultation? Why, says he, should +he not? They<a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a> have passed altogether twenty-five children, twenty-three +Christian and two Jewish. Says she, "Who are they?" Says he, "One a +Shefselsohn and one a Katz." At the name Katz, my wife shoots home like +an arrow from the bow, and bursts into the room in triumph: "Good news! +good news! Passed, passed!" and there are tears in her eyes. Of course, +I am pleased, too, but I don't feel called upon to go dancing, being a +man and not a woman. "It's evidently not much <i>you</i> care?" says she to +me. "What makes you think that?" say I.—"This," says she, "you sit +there cold as a stone! If you knew how impatient the child is, you would +have taken him long ago to the tailor's, and ordered his little +uniform," says she, "and a cap and a satchel," says she, "and made a +little banquet for our friends."—"Why a banquet, all of a sudden?" say +I. "Is there a Bar-Mitzveh? Is there an engagement?" I say all this +quite quietly, for, after all, I am a man, not a woman. She grew so +angry that she stopped talking. And when a woman stops talking, it's a +thousand times worse than when she scolds, because so long as she is +scolding at least you hear the sound of the human voice. Otherwise it's +talk to the wall! To put it briefly, she got her way—she, not I—as +usual.</p> + +<p>There was a banquet; we invited our friends and our good friends, and my +boy was dressed up from head to foot in a very smart uniform, with white +buttons and a cap with a badge in front, quite the district-governor! +And it did one's heart good to see him, poor child! There was new life +in him, he was so happy, and he shone, I tell you, like the July sun! +The company<a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a> drank to him, and wished him joy: Might he study in health, +and finish the course in health, and go on in health, till he reached +the university! "Ett!" say I, "we can do with less. Let him only +complete the eight classes at the Gymnasiye," say I, "and, please God, +I'll make a bridegroom of him, with God's help." Cries my wife, smiling +and fixing me with her eye the while, "Tell him," says she, "that he's +wrong! He," says she, "keeps to the old-fashioned cut." "Tell her from +me," say I, "that I'm blest if the old-fashioned cut wasn't better than +the new." Says she, "Tell him that he (may he forgive me!) is——" The +company burst out laughing. "Oi, Reb Aaron," say they, "you have a wife +(no evil eye!) who is a Cossack and not a wife at all!" Meanwhile they +emptied their wine-glasses, and cleared their plates, and we were what +is called "lively." I and my wife were what is called "taken into the +boat," the little one in the middle, and we made merry till daylight. +That morning early we took him to the Gymnasiye. It was very early, +indeed, the door was shut, not a soul to be seen. Standing outside there +in the frost, we were glad enough when the door opened, and they let us +in. Directly after that the small fry began to arrive with their +satchels, and there was a noise and a commotion and a chatter and a +laughing and a scampering to and fro—a regular fair! Schoolboys jumped +over one another, gave each other punches, pokes, and pinches. As I +looked at these young hopefuls with the red cheeks, with the merry, +laughing eyes, I called to mind our former narrow, dark, and gloomy +Cheder of long ago years, and I saw that after all she<a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a> was right; she +might be a woman, but she had a man's head on her shoulders! And as I +reflected thus, there came along an individual in gilt buttons, who +turned out to be a teacher, and asked what I wanted. I pointed to my +boy, and said I had come to bring him to Cheder, that is, to the +Gymnasiye. He asked to which class? I tell him, the third, and he has +only just been entered. He asks his name. Say I, "Katz, Moisheh Katz, +that is, Moshke Katz." Says he, "Moshke Katz?" He has no Moshke Katz in +the third class. "There is," he says, "a Katz, only not a Moshke Katz, +but a Morduch—Morduch Katz." Say I, "What Morduch? Moshke, not +Morduch!" "Morduch!" he repeats, and thrusts the paper into my face. I +to him, "Moshke." He to me, "Morduch!" In short, Moshke—Morduch, +Morduch—Moshke, we hammer away till there comes out a fine tale: that +which should have been mine is another's. You see what a kettle of fish? +A regular Gentile muddle! They have entered a Katz—yes! But, by +mistake, another, not ours. You see how it was: there were two Katz's in +our town! What do you say to such luck? I have made a bed, and another +will lie in it! No, but you ought to know who the other is, <i>that</i> Katz, +I mean! A nothing of a nobody, an artisan, a bookbinder or a carpenter, +quite a harmless little man, but who ever heard of him? A pauper! And +<i>his</i> son—yes! And mine—no! Isn't it enough to disgust one, I ask you! +And you should have seen that poor boy of mine, when he was told to take +the badge off his cap! No bride on her wedding-day need shed more tears +than were his! And no matter how I reasoned with him,<a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a> whether I coaxed +or scolded. "You see," I said to her, "what you've done! Didn't I tell +you that your Gymnasiye was a slaughter-house for him? I only trust this +may have a good ending, that he won't fall ill."—"Let my enemies," said +she, "fall ill, if they like. My child," says she, "must enter the +Gymnasiye. If he hasn't got in this time, in a year, please God, he +<i>will</i>. If he hasn't got in," says she, "<i>here</i>, he will get in in +another town—he <i>must</i> get in! Otherwise," says she, "I shall shut an +eye, and the earth shall cover me!" You hear what she said? And who, do +you suppose, had his way—she or I? When <i>she</i> sets her heart on a +thing, can there be any question?</p> + +<p>Well, I won't make a long story of it. I hunted up and down with him; we +went to the ends of the world, wherever there was a town and a +Gymnasiye, thither went we! We went up for examination, and were +examined, and we passed and passed high, and did <i>not</i> get in—and why? +All because of the percentage! You may believe, I looked upon my own +self as crazy those days! "Wretch! what is this? What is this flying +that you fly from one town to another? What good is to come of it? And +suppose he does get in, what then?" No, say what you will, ambition is a +great thing. In the end it took hold of me, too, and the Almighty had +compassion, and sent me a Gymnasiye in Poland, a "commercial" one, where +they took in one Jew to every Christian. It came to fifty per cent. But +what then? Any Jew who wished his son to enter must bring his Christian +with him, and if he passes, that is, the Christian, and one pays his +entrance fee, then there is hope.<a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a> Instead of one bundle, one has two on +one's shoulders, you understand? Besides being worn with anxiety about +my own, I had to tremble for the other, because if Esau, which Heaven +forbid, fail to pass, it's all over with Jacob. But what I went through +before I <i>got</i> that Christian, a shoemaker's son, Holiava his name was, +is not to be described. And the best of all was this—would you believe +that my shoemaker, planted in the earth firmly as Korah, insisted on +Bible teaching? There was nothing for it but my son had to sit down +beside his, and repeat the Old Testament. How came a son of mine to the +Old Testament? Ai, don't ask! He can do everything and understands +everything.</p> + +<p>With God's help the happy day arrived, and they both passed. Is my story +finished? Not quite. When it came to their being entered in the books, +to writing out a check, my Christian was not to be found! What has +happened? He, the Gentile, doesn't care for his son to be among so many +Jews—he won't hear of it! Why should he, seeing that all doors are open +to him anyhow, and he can get in where he pleases? Tell him it isn't +fair? Much good that would be! "Look here," say I, "how much do you +want, Pani Holiava?" Says he, "Nothing!" To cut the tale short—up and +down, this way and that way, and friends and people interfering, we had +him off to a refreshment place, and ordered a glass, and two, and three, +before it all came right! Once he was really in, I cried my eyes out, +and thanks be to Him whose Name is blessed, and who has delivered me out +of all my troubles! When I got home, a fresh worry! What now? My wife +has been reflecting<a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a> and thinking it over: After all, her only son, the +apple of her eye—he would be <i>there</i> and we <i>here</i>! And if so, what, +says she, would life be to her? "Well," say I, "what do you propose +doing?"—"What I propose doing?" says she. "Can't you guess? I propose," +says she, "to be with him."—"You do?" say I. "And the house? What about +the house?"—"The house," says she, "is a house." Anything to object to +in that? So she was off to him, and I was left alone at home. And what a +home! I leave you to imagine. May such a year be to my enemies! My +comfort was gone, the business went to the bad. Everything went to the +bad, and we were continually writing letters. I wrote to her, she wrote +to me—letters went and letters came. Peace to my beloved wife! Peace to +my beloved husband! "For Heaven's sake," I write, "what is to be the end +of it? After all, I'm no more than a man! A man without a +housemistress!" It was as much use as last year's snow; it was she who +had her way, she, and not I, as usual.</p> + +<p>To make an end of my story, I worked and worried myself to pieces, made +a mull of the whole business, sold out, became a poor man, and carried +my bundle over to them. Once there, I took a look round to see where I +was in the world, nibbled here and there, just managed to make my way a +bit, and entered into a partnership with a trader, quite a respectable +man, yes! A well-to-do householder, holding office in the Shool, but at +bottom a deceiver, a swindler, a pickpocket, who was nearly the ruin of +me! You can imagine what a cheerful state of things it was. Meanwhile I +come home<a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a> one evening, and see my boy come to meet me, looking +strangely red in the face, and without a badge on his cap. Say I to him, +"Look here, Moshehl, where's your badge?" Says he to me, "Whatever +badge?" Say I, "The button." Says he, "Whatever button?" Say I, "The +button off your cap." It was a new cap with a new badge, only just +bought for the festival! He grows redder than before, and says, "Taken +off." Say I, "What do you mean by 'taken off'?" Says he, "I am free." +Say I, "What do you mean by 'you are free'?" Says he, "We are <i>all</i> +free." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are <i>all</i> free'?" Says he, "We +are not going back any more." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are not +going back'?" Says he, "We have united in the resolve to stay away." Say +I, "What do you mean by '<i>you</i>' have united in a resolve? Who are 'you'? +What is all this? Bless your grandmother," say I, "do you suppose I have +been through all this for you to unite in a resolve? Alas! and alack!" +say I, "for you and me and all of us! May it please God not to let this +be visited on Jewish heads, because always and everywhere," say I, "Jews +are the scapegoats." I speak thus to him and grow angry and reprove him +as a father usually does reprove a child. But I have a wife (long life +to her!), and she comes running, and washes my head for me, tells me I +don't know what is going on in the world, that the world is quite +another world to what it used to be, an intelligent world, an open +world, a free world, "a world," says she, "in which all are equal, in +which there are no rich and no poor, no masters and no servants, no +sheep and no shears, no cats, rats, no<a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a> piggy-wiggy————" "Te-te-te!" +say I, "where have you learned such fine language? a new speech," say I, +"with new words. Why not open the hen-house, and let out the hens? +Chuck—chuck—chuck, hurrah for freedom!" Upon which she blazes up as if +I had poured ten pails of hot water over her. And now for it! As only +<i>they</i> can! Well, one must sit it out and listen to the end. The worst +of it is, there is no end. "Look here," say I, "hush!" say I, "and now +let be!" say I, and beat upon my breast. "I have sinned!" say I, "I have +transgressed, and now stop," say I, "if you would only be quiet!" But +she won't hear, and she won't see. No, she says, she will know why and +wherefore and for goodness' sake and exactly, and just how it was, and +what it means, and how it happened, and once more and a second time, and +all over again from the beginning!</p> + +<p>I beg of you—who set the whole thing going? A—woman!</p> + +<p><a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ELIEZER_DAVID_ROSENTHAL" id="ELIEZER_DAVID_ROSENTHAL"></a>ELIEZER DAVID ROSENTHAL</h3> + +<p>Born, 1861, in Chotin, Bessarabia; went to Breslau, Germany, in 1880, +and pursued studies at the University; returned to Bessarabia in 1882; +co-editor of the Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and +Kishineff, 1905; writer of stories.</p> + +<p><a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="SABBATH" id="SABBATH"></a>SABBATH</h3> + +<p>Friday evening!</p> + +<p>The room has been tidied, the table laid. Two Sabbath loaves have been +placed upon it, and covered with a red napkin. At the two ends are two +metal candlesticks, and between them two more of earthenware, with +candles in them ready to be lighted.</p> + +<p>On the small sofa that stands by the stove lies a sick man covered up +with a red quilt, from under the quilt appears a pale, emaciated face, +with red patches on the dried-up cheeks and a black beard. The sufferer +wears a nightcap, which shows part of his black hair and his black +earlocks. There is no sign of life in his face, and only a faint one in +his great, black eyes.</p> + +<p>On a chair by the couch sits a nine-year-old girl with damp locks, which +have just been combed out in honor of Sabbath. She is barefoot, dressed +only in a shirt and a frock. The child sits swinging her feet, absorbed +in what she is doing; but all her movements are gentle and noiseless.</p> + +<p>The invalid coughed.</p> + +<p>"Kche, kche, kche, kche," came from the sofa.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Tate?" asked the little girl, swinging her feet.</p> + +<p>The invalid made no reply.</p> + +<p>He slowly raised his head with both hands, pulled down the nightcap, and +coughed and coughed and coughed, hoarsely at first, then louder, the +cough tearing<a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a> at his sick chest and dinning in the ears. Then he sat +up, and went on coughing and clearing his throat, till he had brought up +the phlegm.</p> + +<p>The little girl continued to be absorbed in her work and to swing her +feet, taking very little notice of her sick father.</p> + +<p>The invalid smoothed the creases in the cushion, laid his head down +again, and closed his eyes. He lay thus for a few minutes, then he said +quite quietly:</p> + +<p>"Leah!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Tate?" inquired the child again, still swinging her feet.</p> + +<p>"Tell ... mother ... it is ... time to ... bless ... the candles...."</p> + +<p>The little girl never moved from her seat, but shouted through the open +door into the shop:</p> + +<p>"Mother, shut up shop! Father says it's time for candle-blessing."</p> + +<p>"I'm coming, I'm coming," answered her mother from the shop.</p> + +<p>She quickly disposed of a few women customers: sold one a kopek's worth +of tea, the other, two kopeks' worth of sugar, the third, two tallow +candles. Then she closed the shutters and the street door, and came into +the room.</p> + +<p>"You've drunk the glass of milk?" she inquired of the sick man.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... I have ... drunk it," he replied.</p> + +<p>"And you, Leahnyu, daughter," and she turned to the child, "may the evil +spirit take you! Couldn't you put on your shoes without my telling you? +Don't you know it's Sabbath?"<a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a></p> + +<p>The little girl hung her head, and made no other answer.</p> + +<p>Her mother went to the table, lighted the candles, covered her face with +her hands, and blessed them.</p> + +<p>After that she sat down on the seat by the window to take a rest.</p> + +<p>It was only on Sabbath that she could rest from her hard work, toiling +and worrying as she was the whole week long with all her strength and +all her mind.</p> + +<p>She sat lost in thought.</p> + +<p>She was remembering past happy days.</p> + +<p>She also had known what it is to enjoy life, when her husband was in +health, and they had a few hundred rubles. They finished boarding with +her parents, they set up a shop, and though he had always been a close +frequenter of the house-of-study, a bench-lover, he soon learnt the +Torah of commerce. She helped him, and they made a livelihood, and ate +their bread in honor. But in course of time some quite new shops were +started in the little town, there was great competition, the trade was +small, and the gains were smaller, it became necessary to borrow money +on interest, on weekly payment, and to pay for goods at once. The +interest gradually ate up the capital with the gains. The creditors took +what they could lay hands on, and still her husband remained in their +debt.</p> + +<p>He could not get over this, and fell ill.</p> + +<p>The whole bundle of trouble fell upon her: the burden of a livelihood, +the children, the sick man, everything, everything, on her.</p> + +<p>But she did not lose heart.<a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a></p> + +<p>"God will help, <i>he</i> will soon get well, and will surely find some work. +God will not desert us," so she reflected, and meantime she was not +sitting idle.</p> + +<p>The very difficulty of her position roused her courage, and gave her +strength.</p> + +<p>She sold her small store of jewelry, and set up a little shop.</p> + +<p>Three years have passed since then.</p> + +<p>However it may be, God has not abandoned her, and however bitter and +sour the struggle for Parnosseh may have been, she had her bit of bread. +Only his health did not return, he grew daily weaker and worse.</p> + +<p>She glanced at her sick husband, at his pale, emaciated face, and tears +fell from her eyes.</p> + +<p>During the week she has no time to think how unhappy she is. Parnosseh, +housework, attendance on the children and the sick man—these things +take up all her time and thought. She is glad when it comes to bedtime, +and she can fall, dead tired, onto her bed.</p> + +<p>But on Sabbath, the day of rest, she has time to think over her hard lot +and all her misery and to cry herself out.</p> + +<p>"When will there be an end of my troubles and suffering?" she asked +herself, and could give no answer whatever to the question beyond +despairing tears. She saw no ray of hope lighting her future, only a +great, wide, shoreless sea of trouble.</p> + +<p>It flashed across her:</p> + +<p>"When he dies, things will be easier."</p> + +<p>But the thought of his death only increased her apprehension.<a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a></p> + +<p>It brought with it before her eyes the dreadful words: widow, orphans, +poor little fatherless children....</p> + +<p>These alarmed her more than her present distress.</p> + +<p>How can children grow up without a father? Now, even though he's ill, he +keeps an eye on them, tells them to say their prayers and to study. Who +is to watch over them if he dies?</p> + +<p>"Don't punish me, Lord of the World, for my bad thought," she begged +with her whole heart. "I will take it upon myself to suffer and trouble +for all, only don't let him die, don't let me be called by the bitter +name of widow, don't let my children be called orphans!"</p> + +<p class="top5">He sits upon his couch, his head a little thrown back and leaning +against the wall. In one hand he holds a prayer-book—he is receiving +the Sabbath into his house. His pale lips scarcely move as he whispers +the words before him, and his thoughts are far from the prayer. He knows +that he is dangerously ill, he knows what his wife has to suffer and +bear, and not only is he powerless to help her, but his illness is her +heaviest burden, what with the extra expense incurred on his account and +the trouble of looking after him. Besides which, his weakness makes him +irritable, and his anger has more than once caused her unmerited pain. +He sees and knows it all, and his heart is torn with grief. "Only death +can help us," he murmurs, and while his lips repeat the words of the +prayer-book, his heart makes one request to God and only one: that God +should send kind Death to deliver him from his trouble and misery.<a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a></p> + +<p>Suddenly the door opened and a ten-year-old boy came into the room, in a +long Sabbath cloak, with two long earlocks, and a prayer-book under his +arm.</p> + +<p>"A good Sabbath!" said the little boy, with a loud, ringing voice.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if he and the holy Sabbath had come into the room together! +In one moment the little boy had driven trouble and sadness out of +sight, and shed light and consolation round him.</p> + +<p>His "good Sabbath!" reached his parents' hearts, awoke there new life +and new hopes.</p> + +<p>"A good Sabbath!" answered the mother. Her eyes rested on the child's +bright face, and her thoughts were no longer melancholy as before, for +she saw in his eyes a whole future of happy possibilities.</p> + +<p>"A good Sabbath!" echoed the lips of the sick man, and he took a deeper, +easier breath. No, he will not die altogether, he will live again after +death in the child. He can die in peace, he leaves a Kaddish behind +him.<a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="YOM_KIPPUR" id="YOM_KIPPUR"></a>YOM KIPPUR</h3> + +<p>Erev Yom Kippur, Minchah time!</p> + +<p>The Eve of the Day of Atonement, at Afternoon Prayer time.</p> + +<p>A solemn and sacred hour for every Jew.</p> + +<p>Everyone feels as though he were born again.</p> + +<p>All the week-day worries, the two-penny-half-penny interests, seem far, +far away; or else they have hidden themselves in some corner. Every Jew +feels a noble pride, an inward peace mingled with fear and awe. He knows +that the yearly Judgment Day is approaching, when God Almighty will hold +the scales in His hand and weigh every man's merits against his +transgressions. The sentence given on that day is one of life or death. +No trifle! But the Jew is not so terrified as you might think—he has +broad shoulders. Besides, he has a certain footing behind the "upper +windows," he has good advocates and plenty of them; he has the "binding +of Isaac" and a long chain of ancestors and ancestresses, who were put +to death for the sanctification of the Holy Name, who allowed themselves +to be burnt and roasted for the sake of God's Torah. Nishkoshe! Things +are not so bad. The Lord of All may just remember that, and look aside a +little. Is He not the Compassionate, the Merciful?</p> + +<p>The shadows lengthen and lengthen.</p> + +<p>Jews are everywhere in commotion.</p> + +<p>Some hurry home straight from the bath, drops of bath-water dripping +from beard and earlocks. They have not even dried their hair properly in +their haste.<a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a></p> + +<p>It is time to prepare for the davvening. Some are already on their way +to Shool, robed in white. Nearly every Jew carries in one hand a large, +well-packed Tallis-bag, which to-day, besides the prayer-scarf, holds +the whole Jewish outfit: a bulky prayer-book, a book of Psalms, a +Likkute Zevi, and so on; and in the other hand, two wax-candles, one a +large one, that is the "light of life," and the other a small one, a +shrunken looking thing, which is the "soul-light."</p> + +<p>The Tamschevate house-of-study presents at this moment the following +picture: the floor is covered with fresh hay, and the dust and the smell +of the hay fill the whole building. Some of the men are standing at +their prayers, beating their breasts in all seriousness. "We have +trespassed, we have been faithless, we have robbed," with an occasional +sob of contrition. Others are very busy setting up their wax-lights in +boxes filled with sand; one of them, a young man who cannot live without +it, betakes himself to the platform and repeats a "Bless ye the Lord." +Meantime another comes slyly, and takes out two of the candles standing +before the platform, planting his own in their place. Not far from the +ark stands the beadle with a strap in his hand, and all the foremost +householders go up to him, lay themselves down with their faces to the +ground, and the beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows apiece, and not +one of them bears him any grudge. Even Reb Groinom, from whom the beadle +never hears anything from one Yom Kippur to another but "may you be ... +"and "rascal," "impudence," "brazen face," "spendthrift," "carrion," +"dog of all dogs"—and not<a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a> infrequently Reb Groinom allows himself to +apply his right hand to the beadle's cheek, and the latter has to take +it all in a spirit of love—this same Reb Groinom now humbly approaches +the same poor beadle, lies quietly down with his face to the ground, +stretches himself out, and the beadle deliberately counts the strokes up +to "thirty-nine Malkes." Covered with hay, Reb Groinom rises slowly, a +piteous expression on his face, just as if he had been well thrashed, +and he pushes a coin into the Shamash's hand. This is evidently the +beadle's day! To-day he can take his revenge on his householders for the +insults and injuries of a whole year!</p> + +<p>But if you want to be in the thick of it all, you must stand in the +anteroom by the door, where people are crowding round the plates for +collections. The treasurer sits beside a little table with the directors +of the congregation; the largest plate lies before them. To one side of +them sits the cantor with his plate, and beside the cantor, several +house-of-study youths with theirs. On every plate lies a paper with a +written notice: "Visiting the Sick," "Supporting the Fallen," "Clothing +the Naked," "Talmud Torah," "Refuge for the Poor," and so forth. Over +one plate, marked "The Return to the Land of Israel," presides a modern +young man, a Zionist. Everyone wishing to enter the house-of-study must +first go to the plates marked "Call to the Torah" and "Seat in the +Shool," put in what is his due, and then throw a few kopeks into the +other plates.</p> + +<p class="top5">Berel Tzop bustled up to the plate "Seat in the Shool," gave what was +expected of him, popped a few<a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a> coppers into the other plates, and +prepared to recite the Afternoon Prayer. He wanted to pause a little +between the words of his prayer, to attend to their meaning, to impress +upon himself that this was the Eve of the Day of Atonement! But idle +thoughts kept coming into his head, as though on purpose to annoy him, +and his mind was all over the place at once! The words of the prayers +got mixed up with the idea of oats, straw, wheat, and barley, and +however much trouble he took to drive these idle thoughts away, he did +not succeed. "Blow the great trumpet of our deliverance!" shouted Berel, +and remembered the while that Ivan owed him ten measures of wheat. +"...lift up the ensign to gather our exiles!..."—"and I made a mistake +in Stephen's account by thirty kopeks...." Berel saw that it was +impossible for him to pray with attention, and he began to reel off the +Eighteen Benedictions, but not till he reached the Confession could he +collect his scattered thoughts, and realize what he was saying. When he +raised his hands to beat his breast at "We have trespassed, we have +robbed," the hand remained hanging in the air, half-way. A shudder went +through his limbs, the letters of the words "we have robbed" began to +grow before his eyes, they became gigantic, they turned strange +colors—red, blue, green, and yellow—now they took the form of large +frogs—they got bigger and bigger, crawled into his eyes, croaked in his +ears: You are a thief, a robber, you have stolen and plundered! You +think nobody saw, that it would all run quite smoothly, but you are +wrong! We shall stand before the Throne of Glory and cry: You are a +thief, a robber!<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a></p> + +<p>Berel stood some time with his hand raised midway in the air.</p> + +<p>The whole affair of the hundred rubles rose before his eyes.</p> + +<p>A couple of months ago he had gone into the house of Reb Moisheh +Chalfon. The latter had just gone out, there was nobody else in the +room, nobody had even seen him come in.</p> + +<p>The key was in the desk—Berel had looked at it, had hardly touched +it—the drawer had opened as though of itself—several +hundred-ruble-notes had lain glistening before his eyes! Just that day, +Berel had received a very unpleasant letter from the father of his +daughter's bridegroom, and to make matters worse, the author of the +letter was in the right. Berel had been putting off the marriage for two +years, and the Mechutton wrote quite plainly, that unless the wedding +took place after Tabernacles, he should return him the contract.</p> + +<p>"Return the contract!" the fiery letters burnt into Berel's brain.</p> + +<p>He knew his Mechutton well. The Misnaggid! He wouldn't hesitate to tear +up a marriage contract, either! And when it's a question of a by no +means pretty girl of twenty and odd years! And the kind of bridegroom +anybody might be glad to have secured for his daughter! And then to +think that only one of those hundred-ruble-notes lying tossed together +in that drawer would help him out of all his troubles. And the Evil +Inclination whispers in his ear: "Berel, now or never! There will be an +end to all your worry! Don't you see, it's a godsend." He, Berel, +wrestled with him hard.<a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a> He remembers it all distinctly, and he can hear +now the faint little voice of the Good Inclination: "Berel, to become a +thief in one's latter years! You who so carefully avoided even the +smallest deceit! Fie, for shame! If God will, he can help you by honest +means too." But the voice of the Good Inclination was so feeble, so +husky, and the Evil Inclination suggested in his other ear: "Do you know +what? <i>Borrow</i> one hundred rubles! Who talks of stealing? You will earn +some money before long, and then you can pay him back—it's a charitable +loan on his part, only that he doesn't happen to know of it. Isn't it +plain to be seen that it's a godsend? If you don't call this Providence, +what is? Are you going to take more than you really need? You know your +Mechutton? Have you taken a good look at that old maid of yours? You +recollect the bridegroom? Well, the Mechutton will be kind and mild as +milk. The bridegroom will be a 'silken son-in-law,' the ugly old maid, a +young wife—fool! God and men will envy you...." And he, Berel, lost his +head, his thoughts flew hither and thither, like frightened birds, +and—he no longer knew which of the two voices was that of the Good +Inclination, and—</p> + +<p>No one saw him leave Moisheh Chalfon's house.</p> + +<p>And still his hand remains suspended in mid-air, still it does not fall +against his breast, and there is a cold perspiration on his brow.</p> + +<p>Berel started, as though out of his sleep. He had noticed that people +were beginning to eye him as he stood with his hand held at a distance +from his person. He hastily rattled through "For the sin, ..." concluded +the Eighteen Benedictions, and went home.<a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a></p> + +<p>At home, he didn't dawdle, he only washed his hands, recited "Who +bringest forth bread," and that was all. The food stuck in his throat, +he said grace, returned to Shool, put on the Tallis, and started to +intone tunefully the Prayer of Expiation.</p> + +<p class="top5">The lighted wax-candles, the last rays of the sun stealing in through +the windows of the house-of-study, the congregation entirely robed in +white and enfolded in the prayer-scarfs, the intense seriousness +depicted on all faces, the hum of voices, and the bitter weeping that +penetrated from the women's gallery, all this suited Berel's mood, his +contrite heart. Berel had recited the Prayer of Expiation with deep +feeling; tears poured from his eyes, his own broken voice went right +through his heart, every word found an echo there, and he felt it in +every limb. Berel stood before God like a little child before its +parents: he wept and told all that was in his heavily-laden heart, the +full tale of his cares and troubles. Berel was pleased with himself, he +felt that he was not saying the words anyhow, just rolling them off his +tongue, but he was really performing an act of penitence with his whole +heart. He felt remorse for his sins, and God is a God of compassion and +mercy, who will certainly pardon him.</p> + +<p>"Therefore is my heart sad," began Berel, "that the sin which a man +commits against his neighbor cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement, unless he asks his neighbor's forgiveness ... therefore is my +heart broken and my limbs tremble, because even the day of my death +cannot atone for this sin."<a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a></p> + +<p>Berel began to recite this in pleasing, artistic fashion, weeping and +whimpering like a spoiled child, and drawling out the words, when it +grew dark before his eyes. Berel had suddenly become aware that he was +in the position of one about to go in through an open door. He advances, +he must enter, it is a question of life and death. And without any +warning, just as he is stepping across the threshold, the door is shut +from within with a terrible bang, and he remains standing outside.</p> + +<p>And he has read this in the Prayer of Expiation? With fear and +fluttering he reads it over again, looking narrowly at every word—a +cold sweat covers him—the words prick him like pins. Are these two +verses his pitiless judges, are they the expression of his sentence? Is +he already condemned? "Ay, ay, you are guilty," flicker the two verses +on the page before him, and prayer and tears are no longer of any avail. +His heart cried to God: "Have pity, merciful Father! A grown-up +girl—what am I to do with her? And his father wanted to break off the +engagement. As soon as I have earned the money, I will give it back...." +But he knew all the time that these were useless subterfuges; the Lord +of the Universe can only pardon the sin committed against Himself, the +sin committed against man cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement!</p> + +<p>Berel took another look at the Prayer of Expiation. The words, "unless +he asks his neighbor's forgiveness," danced before his eyes. A ray of +hope crept into his despairing heart. One way is left open to him: he +can confess to Moisheh Chalfon! But the hope was quickly extinguished. +Is that a small matter? What of my<a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a> honor, my good name? And what of the +match? "Mercy, O Father," he cried, "have mercy!"</p> + +<p>Berel proceeded no further with the Prayer of Expiation. He stood lost +in his melancholy thoughts, his whole life passed before his eyes. He, +Berel, had never licked honey, trouble had been his in plenty, he had +known cares and worries, but God had never abandoned him. It had +frequently happened to him in the course of his life to think he was +lost, to give up all his hope. But each time God had extricated him +unexpectedly from his difficulty, and not only that, but lawfully, +honestly, Jewishly. And now—he had suddenly lost his trust in the +Providence of His dear Name! "Donkey!" thus Berel abused himself, "went +to look for trouble, did you? Now you've got it! Sold yourself body and +soul for one hundred rubles! Thief! thief! thief!" It did Berel good to +abuse himself like this, it gave him a sort of pleasure to aggravate his +wounds.</p> + +<p>Berel, sunk in his sad reflections, has forgotten where he is in the +world. The congregation has finished the Prayer of Expiation, and is +ready for Kol Nidré. The cantor is at his post at the reading-desk on +the platform, two of the principal, well-to-do Jews, with Torahs in +their hands, on each side of him. One of them is Moisheh Chalfon. There +is a deep silence in the building. The very last rays of the sun are +slanting in through the window, and mingling with the flames of the +wax-candles....</p> + +<p>"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed," +startled Berel's ears. It<a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a> was Moisheh Chalfon's voice. The voice was +low, sweet, and sad. Berel gave a side glance at where Moisheh Chalfon +was standing, and it seemed to him that Moisheh Chalfon was doing the +same to him, only Moisheh Chalfon was looking not into his eyes, but +deep into his heart, and there reading the word Thief! And Moisheh +Chalfon is permitting the people to pray together with him, Berel the +thief!</p> + +<p>"Mercy, mercy, compassionate God!" cried Berel's heart in its despair.</p> + +<p class="top5">They had concluded Maariv, recited the first four chapters of the Psalms +and the Song of Unity, and the people went home, to lay in new strength +for the morrow.</p> + +<p>There remained only a few, who spent the greater part of the night +repeating Psalms, intoning the Mishnah, and so on; they snatched an +occasional doze on the bare floor overlaid with a whisp of hay, an old +cloak under their head. Berel also stayed the night in the +house-of-study. He sat down in a corner, in robe and Tallis, and began +reciting Psalms with a pleasing pathos, and he went on until overtaken +by sleep. At first he resisted, he took a nice pinch of snuff, rubbed +his eyes, collected his thoughts, but it was no good. The covers of the +book of Psalms seemed to have been greased, for they continually slipped +from his grasp, the printed lines had grown crooked and twisted, his +head felt dreadfully heavy, and his eyelids clung together; his nose was +forever drooping towards the book of Psalms. He made every effort to +keep awake, started up every<a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a> time as though he had burnt himself, but +sleep was the stronger of the two. Gradually he slid from the bench onto +the floor; the Psalter slipped finally from between his fingers, his +head dropped onto the hay, and he fell sweetly asleep....</p> + +<p>And Berel had a dream:</p> + +<p>Yom Kippur, and yet there is a fair in the town, the kind of fair one +calls an "earthquake," a fair such as Berel does not remember having +seen these many years, so crowded is it with men and merchandise. There +is something of everything—cattle, horses, sheep, corn, and fruit. All +the Tamschevate Jews are strolling round with their wives and children, +there is buying and selling, the air is full of noise and shouting, the +whole fair is boiling and hissing and humming like a kettle. One runs +this way and one that way, this one is driving a cow, that one leading +home a horse by the rein, the other buying a whole cart-load of corn. +Berel is all astonishment and curiosity: how is it possible for Jews to +busy themselves with commerce on Yom Kippur? on such a holy day? As far +back as he can remember, Jews used to spend the whole day in Shool, in +linen socks, white robe, and prayer-scarf. They prayed and wept. And now +what has come over them, that they should be trading on Yom Kippur, as +if it were a common week-day, in shoes and boots (this last struck him +more than anything)? Perhaps it is all a dream? thought Berel in his +sleep. But no, it is no dream! "Here I am strolling round the fair, wide +awake. And the screaming and the row in my ears, is that a dream, too? +And my having this very minute<a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a> been bumped on the shoulder by a Gentile +going past me with a horse—is that a dream? But if the whole world is +taking part in the fair, it's evidently the proper thing to do...." +Meanwhile he was watching a peasant with a horse, and he liked the look +of the horse so much that he bought it and mounted it. And he looked at +it from where he sat astride, and saw the horse was a horse, but at the +selfsame time it was Moisheh Chalfon as well. Berel wondered: how is it +possible for it to be at once a horse and a man? But his own eyes told +him it was so. He wanted to dismount, but the horse bears him to a shop. +Here he climbed down and asked for a pound of sugar. Berel kept his eyes +on the scales, and—a fresh surprise! Where they should have been +weighing sugar, they were weighing his good and bad deeds. And the two +scales were nearly equally laden, and oscillated up and down in the +air....</p> + +<p>Suddenly they threw a sheet of paper into the scale that held his bad +deeds. Berel looked to see—it was the hundred-ruble-note which he had +appropriated at Moisheh Chalfon's! But it was now much larger, bordered +with black, and the letters and numbers were red as fire. The piece of +paper was frightfully heavy, it was all two men could do to carry it to +the weighing-machine, and when they had thrown it with all their might +onto the scale, something snapped, and the scale went down, down, down.</p> + +<p>At that moment a man sleeping at Berel's head stretched out a foot, and +gave Berel a kick in the head. Berel awoke.<a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a></p> + +<p>Not far from him sat a grey-haired old Jew, huddled together, enfolded +in a Tallis and robe, repeating Psalms with a melancholy chant and a +broken, quavering voice.</p> + +<p>Berel caught the words:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright:</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> For the end of that man is peace.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> But the transgressors shall be destroyed together:</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> The latter end of the wicked shall be cut off...."</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Berel looked round in a fright: Where is he? He had quite forgotten that +he had remained for the night in the house-of-study. He gazed round with +sleepy eyes, and they fell on some white heaps wrapped in robes and +prayer-scarfs, while from their midst came the low, hoarse, tearful +voices of two or three men who had not gone to sleep and were repeating +Psalms. Many of the candles were already sputtering, the wax was melting +into the sand, the flames rose and fell, and rose again, flaring +brightly.</p> + +<p>And the pale moon looked in at the windows, and poured her silvery light +over the fantastic scene.</p> + +<p>Berel grew icy cold, and a dreadful shuddering went through his limbs.</p> + +<p>He had not yet remembered that he was spending the night in the +house-of-study.</p> + +<p>He imagined that he was dead, and astray in limbo. The white heaps which +he sees are graves, actual graves, and there among the graves sit a few +sinful souls, and bewail and lament their transgressions. And he, Berel, +cannot even weep, he is a fallen one, lost forever—he is condemned to +wander, to roam everlastingly among the graves.<a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a></p> + +<p>By degrees, however, he called to mind where he was, and collected his +wits.</p> + +<p>Only then he remembered his fearful dream.</p> + +<p>"No," he decided within himself, "I have lived till now without the +hundred rubles, and I will continue to live without them. If the Lord of +the Universe wishes to help me, he will do so without them too. My soul +and my portion of the world-to-come are dearer to me. Only let Moisheh +Chalfon come in to pray, I will tell him the whole truth and avert +misfortune."</p> + +<p>This decision gave him courage, he washed his hands, and sat down again +to the Psalms. Every few minutes he glanced at the window, to see if it +were not beginning to dawn, and if Reb Moisheh Chalfon were not coming +along to Shool.</p> + +<p>The day broke.</p> + +<p>With the first sunbeams Berel's fears and terrors began little by little +to dissipate and diminish. His resolve to restore the hundred rubles +weakened considerably.</p> + +<p>"If I don't confess," thought Berel, wrestling in spirit with +temptation, "I risk my world-to-come.... If I do confess, what will my +Chantzeh-Leah say to it? He writes, either the wedding takes place, or +the contract is dissolved! And what shall I do, when his father gets to +hear about it? There will be a stain on my character, the marriage +contract will be annulled, and I shall be left ... without my good name +and ... with my ugly old maid....</p> + +<p>"What is to be done? Help! What is to be done?"<a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a></p> + +<p>The people began to gather in the Shool. The reader of the Morning +Service intoned "He is Lord of the Universe" to the special Yom Kippur +tune, a few householders and young men supported him, and Berel heard +through it all only, Help! What is to be done?</p> + +<p>And suddenly he beheld Moisheh Chalfon.</p> + +<p>Berel quickly rose from his place, he wanted to make a rush at Moisheh +Chalfon. But after all he remained where he was, and sat down again.</p> + +<p>"I must first think it over, and discuss it with my Chantzeh-Leah," was +Berel's decision.</p> + +<p class="top5">Berel stood up to pray with the congregation. He was again wishful to +pray with fervor, to collect his thoughts, and attend to the meaning of +the words, but try as he would, he couldn't! Quite other things came +into his head: a dream, a fair, a horse, Moisheh Chalfon, Chantzeh-Leah, +oats, barley, <i>this</i> world and the next were all mixed up together in +his mind, and the words of the prayers skipped about like black patches +before his eyes. He wanted to say he was sorry, to cry, but he only made +curious grimaces, and could not squeeze out so much as a single tear.</p> + +<p>Berel was very dissatisfied with himself. He finished the Morning +Prayer, stood through the Additional Service, and proceeded to devour +the long Piyyutim.</p> + +<p>The question, What is to be done? left him no peace, and he was really +reciting the Piyyutim to try and stupefy himself, to dull his brain.</p> + +<p>So it went on till U-Nesanneh Toikef.</p> + +<p>The congregation began to prepare for U-Nesanneh Toikef, coughed, to +clear their throats, and pulled the<a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a> Tallesim over their heads. The +cantor sat down for a minute to rest, and unbuttoned his shroud. His +face was pale and perspiring, and his eyes betrayed a great weariness. +From the women's gallery came a sound of weeping and wailing.</p> + +<p>Berel had drawn his Tallis over his head, and started reciting with +earnestness and enthusiasm:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"We will express the mighty holiness of this Day,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> For it is tremendous and awful!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> On which Thy kingdom is exalted,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And Thy throne established in grace;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Whereupon Thou art seated in truth.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Verily, it is Thou who art judge and arbitrator,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Who knowest all, and art witness, writer, sigillator, recorder and teller;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And Thou recallest all forgotten things,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And openest the Book of Remembrance, and the book reads itself,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And every man's handwriting is there...."</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>These words opened the source of Berel's tears, and he sobbed +unaffectedly. Every sentence cut him to the heart, like a sharp knife, +and especially the passage:</p> + +<p>"And Thou recallest all forgotten things, and openest the Book of +Remembrance, and the book reads itself, and every man's handwriting is +there...." At that very moment the Book of Remembrance was lying open +before the Lord of the Universe, with the handwritings of all men. It +contains his own as well, the one which he wrote with his own hand that +day when he took away the hundred-ruble-note. He pictures how his soul +flew up to Heaven while he slept, and entered everything in the eternal +book, and now the letters stood before the<a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a> Throne of Glory, and cried, +"Berel is a thief, Berel is a robber!" And he has the impudence to stand +and pray before God? He, the offender, the transgressor—and the Shool +does not fall upon his head?</p> + +<p>The congregation concluded U-Nesanneh Toikef, and the cantor began: "And +the great trumpet of ram's horn shall be sounded..." and still Berel +stood with the Tallis over his head.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard the words:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"And the Angels are dismayed,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Fear and trembling seize hold of them as they proclaim,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> As swiftly as birds, and say:</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> This is the Day of Judgment!"</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>The words penetrated into the marrow of Berel's bones, and he shuddered +from head to foot. The words, "This is the Day of Judgment," +reverberated in his ears like a peal of thunder. He imagined the angels +were hastening to him with one speed, with one swoop, to seize and drag +him before the Throne of Glory, and the piteous wailing that came from +the women's court was for him, for his wretched soul, for his endless +misfortune.</p> + +<p>"No! no! no!" he resolved, "come what may, let him annul the contract, +let them point at me with their fingers as at a thief, if they choose, +let my Chantzeh-Leah lose her chance! I will take it all in good part, +if I may only save my unhappy soul! The minute the Kedushah is over I +shall go to Moisheh Chalfon, tell him the whole story, and beg him to +forgive me."</p> + +<p>The cantor came to the end of U-Nesanneh Toikef, the congregation +resumed their seats, Berel also returned to his place, and did not go up +to Moisheh Chalfon.<a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a></p> + +<p>"Help, what shall I do, what shall I do?" he thought, as he struggled +with his conscience. "Chantzeh-Leah will lay me on the fire ... she will +cry her life out ... the Mechutton ... the bridegroom...."</p> + +<p class="top5">The Additional Service and the Afternoon Service were over, people were +making ready for the Conclusion Service, Neïleh. The shadows were once +more lengthening, the sun was once more sinking in the west. The +Shool-Goi began to light candles and lamps, and placed them on the +tables and the window-ledges. Jews with faces white from exhaustion sat +in the anteroom resting and refreshing themselves with a pinch of snuff, +or a drop of hartshorn, and a few words of conversation. Everyone feels +more cheerful and in better humor. What had to be done, has been done +and well done. The Lord of the Universe has received His due. They have +mortified themselves a whole day, fasted continuously, recited prayers, +and begged forgiveness!</p> + +<p>Now surely the Almighty will do His part, accept the Jewish prayers and +have compassion on His people Israel.</p> + +<p>Only Berel sits in a corner by himself. He also is wearied and +exhausted. He also has fasted, prayed, wept, mortified himself, like the +rest. But he knows that the whole of his toil and trouble has been +thrown away. He sits troubled, gloomy, and depressed. He knows that they +have now reached Neïleh, that he has still time to repent, that the door +of Heaven will stand open a little while longer, his repentance may yet +<a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a>pass through ... otherwise, yet a little while, and the gates of mercy +will be shut and ... too late!</p> + +<p>"Oh, open the gate to us, even while it is closing," sounded in Berel's +ears and heart ... yet a little while, and it will be too late!</p> + +<p>"No, no!" shrieked Berel to himself, "I will not lose my soul, my +world-to-come! Let Chantzeh-Leah burn me and roast me, I will take it +all in good part, so that I don't lose my world-to-come!"</p> + +<p>Berel rose from his seat, and went up to Moisheh Chalfon.</p> + +<p>"Reb Moisheh, a word with you," he whispered into his ear.</p> + +<p>"Afterwards, when the prayers are done."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" shrieked Berel, below his breath, "now, at once!"</p> + +<p>Moisheh Chalfon stood up.</p> + +<p>Berel led him out of the house-of-study, and aside.</p> + +<p>"Reb Moisheh, kind soul, have pity on me and forgive me!" cried Berel, +and burst into sobs.</p> + +<p>"God be with you, Berel, what has come over you all at once?" asked Reb +Moisheh, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Reb Moisheh!" said Berel, still sobbing. "The hundred +rubles you lost a few weeks ago are in my house!... God knows the truth, +I didn't take them out of wickedness. I came into your house, the key +was in the drawer ... there was no one in the room.... That day I'd had +a letter from my Mechutton that he'd break off his son's engagement if +the wedding didn't take place to time.... My girl is ugly and old ... +<a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a>the bridegroom is a fine young man ... a precious stone.... I opened the +drawer in spite of myself ... and saw the bank-notes.... You see how it +was?... My Mechutton is a Misnaggid ... a flint-hearted screw.... I took +out the note ... but it is shortening my years!... God knows what I bore +and suffered at the time.... To-night I will bring you the note back.... +Forgive me!... Let the Mechutton break off the match, if he chooses, let +the woman fret away her years, so long as I am rid of the serpent that +is gnawing at my heart, and gives me no peace! I never before touched a +ruble belonging to anyone else, and become a thief in my latter years I +won't!"</p> + +<p>Moisheh Chalfon did not answer him for a little while. He took out his +snuff, and had a pinch, then he took out of the bosom of his robe a +great red handkerchief, wiped his nose, and reflected a minute or two. +Then he said quietly:</p> + +<p>"If a match were broken off through me, I should be sorry. You certainly +behaved as you should not have, in taking the money without leave, but +it is written: Judge not thy neighbor till thou hast stood in his place. +You shall keep the hundred rubles. Come to-night and bring me an I. O. +U., and begin to repay me little by little."</p> + +<p>"What are you, an angel?" exclaimed Berel, weeping.</p> + +<p>"God forbid," replied Moisheh Chalfon, quietly, "I am what you are. You +are a Jew, and I also am a Jew."<a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ISAIAH_LERNER" id="ISAIAH_LERNER"></a>ISAIAH LERNER</h3> + +<p>Born, 1861, in Zwoniec, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; co-editor of +die Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and Kishineff, +1905.</p> + +<p><a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="BERTZI_WASSERFUHRER" id="BERTZI_WASSERFUHRER"></a>BERTZI WASSERFÜHRER</h3> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>The first night of Passover. It is already about ten o'clock. Outside it +is dark, wet, cold as the grave. A fine, close, sleety rain is driving +down, a light, sharp, fitful wind blows, whistles, sighs, and whines, +and wanders round on every side, like a returned and sinful soul seeking +means to qualify for eternal bliss. The mud is very thick, and reaches +nearly to the waist.</p> + +<p>At one end of the town of Kamenivke, in the Poor People's Street, which +runs along by the bath-house, it is darkest of all, and muddiest. The +houses there are small, low, and overhanging, tumbled together in such a +way that there is no seeing where the mud begins and the dwelling ends. +No gleam of light, even in the windows. Either the inhabitants of the +street are all asleep, resting their tired bones and aching limbs, or +else they all lie suffocated in the sea of mud, simply because the mud +is higher than the windows. Whatever the reason, the street is quiet as +a God's-acre, and the darkness may be felt with the hands.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the dead stillness of the street is broken by the heavy tread +of some ponderous creature, walking and plunging through the Kamenivke +mud, and there appears the tall, broad figure of a man. He staggers like +one tipsy or sick, but he keeps on in a straight line, at an even pace, +like one born and bred and doomed to die in the familiar mud, till he +drags his way to a low, crouching house at the very end of the street, +almost<a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a> under the hillside. It grows lighter—a bright flame shines +through the little window-panes. He has not reached the door before it +opens, and a shaky, tearful voice, full of melancholy, pain, and woe, +breaks the hush a second time this night:</p> + +<p>"Bertzi, is it you? Are you all right? So late? Has there been another +accident? And the cart and the horse, wu senen?"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right! A happy holiday!"</p> + +<p>His voice is rough, hoarse, and muffled.</p> + +<p>She lets him into the passage, and opens the inner door.</p> + +<p>But scarcely is he conscious of the light, warmth, and cleanliness of +the room, when he gives a strange, wild cry, takes one leap, like a +hare, onto the "eating-couch" spread for him on the red-painted, wooden +sofa, and—he lies already in a deep sleep.</p> + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>The whole dwelling, consisting of one nice, large, low room, is clean, +tidy, and bright. The bits of furniture and all the household essentials +are poor, but so clean and polished that one can mirror oneself in them, +if one cares to stoop down. The table is laid ready for Passover. The +bottles of red wine, the bottle of yellow Passover brandy, and the glass +goblets of different colors reflect the light of the thick tallow +candles, and shine and twinkle and sparkle. The oven, which stands in +the same room, is nearly out, there is one sleepy little bit of fire +still flickering. But the pots, ranged round the fire as though to watch +over it and encourage it, exhale<a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a> such delicious, appetizing smells that +they would tempt even a person who had just eaten his fill. But no one +makes a move towards them. All five children lie stretched in a row on +the red-painted, wooden bed. Even they have not tasted of the precious +dishes, of which they have thought and talked for weeks previous to the +festival. They cried loud and long, waiting for their father's return, +and at last they went sweetly to sleep. Only one fly is moving about the +room: Rochtzi, Bertzi Wasserführer's wife, and rivers of tears, large, +clear tears, salt with trouble and distress, flow from her eyes.</p> + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>Although Rochtzi has not seen more than thirty summers, she looks like +an old woman. Once upon a time she was pretty, she was even known as one +of the prettiest of the Kamenivke girls, and traces of her beauty are +still to be found in her uncommonly large, dark eyes, and even in her +lined face, although the eyes have long lost their fire, and her cheeks, +their color and freshness. She is dressed in clean holiday attire, but +her eyes are red from the hot, salt tears, and her expression is +darkened and sad.</p> + +<p>"Such a festival, such a great, holy festival, and then when it +comes...." The pale lips tremble and quiver.</p> + +<p>How many days and nights, beginning before Purim, has she sat with her +needle between her fingers, so that the children should have their +holiday frocks—and all depending on her hands and head! How much +thought and care and strength has she spent on preparing the room, their +poor little possessions, and the food? How<a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a> many were the days, Sabbaths +excepted, on which they went without a spoonful of anything hot, so that +they might be able to give a becoming reception to that dear, great, and +holy visitor, the Passover? Everything (the Almighty forbid that she +should sin with her tongue!) of the best, ready and waiting, and then, +after all....</p> + +<p>He, his sheepskin, his fur cap, and his great boots are soaked with rain +and steeped in thick mud, and there, in this condition, lies he, Bertzi +Wasserführer, her husband, her Passover "king," like a great black lump, +on the nice, clean, white, draped "eating-couch," and snores.</p> + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>The brief tale I am telling you happened in the days before Kamenivke +had joined itself on, by means of the long, tall, and beautiful bridge, +to the great high hill that has stood facing it from everlasting, +thickly wooded, and watered by quantities of clear, crystal streams, +which babble one to another day and night, and whisper with their +running tongues of most important things. So long as the bridge had not +been flung from one of the giant rocks to the other rock, the Kamenivke +people had not been able to procure the good, wholesome water of the +wild hill, and had to content themselves with the thick, impure water of +the river Smotritch, which has flowed forever round the eminence on +which Kamenivke is built. But man, and especially the Jew, gets used to +anything, and the Kamenivke people, who are nearly all Grandfather +Abraham's grandchildren, had drunk Smotritch water all their lives, and +were conscious of no grievance.<a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a></p> + +<p>But the lot of the Kamenivke water-carriers was hard and bitter. +Kamenivke stands high, almost in the air, and the river Smotritch runs +deep down in the valley.</p> + +<p>In summer, when the ground is dry, it was bearable, for then the +Kamenivke water-carrier was merely bathed in sweat as he toiled up the +hill, and the Jewish breadwinner has been used to that for ages. But in +winter, when the snow was deep and the frost tremendous, when the steep +Skossny hill with its clay soil was covered with ice like a hill of +glass! Or when the great rains were pouring down, and the town and +especially the clay hill are confounded with the deep, thick mud!</p> + +<p>Our Bertzi Wasserführer was more alive to the fascinations of this +Parnosseh than any other water-carrier. He was, as though in his own +despite, a pious Jew and a great man of his word, and he had to carry +water for almost all the well-to-do householders. True, that in face of +all his good luck he was one of the poorest Jews in the Poor People's +Street, only——</p> + +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>Lord of the World, may there never again be such a winter as there was +then!</p> + +<p>Not the oldest man there could recall one like it. The snow came down in +drifts, and never stopped. One could and might have sworn on a scroll of +the Law, that the great Jewish God was angry with the Kamenivke Jews, +and had commanded His angels to shovel down on Kamenivke all the snow +that had lain by in all the seven heavens since the sixth day of +creation, so that the sinful town might be a ruin and a desolation.<a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a></p> + +<p>And the terrible, fiery frosts!</p> + +<p>Frozen people were brought into the town nearly every day.</p> + +<p>Oi, Jews, how Bertzi Wasserführer struggled, what a time he had of it! +Enemies of Zion, it was nearly the death of him!</p> + +<p>And suddenly the snow began to stop falling, all at once, and then +things were worse than ever—there was a sea of water, an ocean of mud.</p> + +<p>And Passover coming on with great strides!</p> + +<p>For three days before Passover he had not come home to sleep. Who talks +of eating, drinking, and sleeping? He and his man toiled day and night, +like six horses, like ten oxen.</p> + +<p>The last day before Passover was the worst of all. His horse suddenly +came to the conclusion that sooner than live such a life, it would die. +So it died and vanished somewhere in the depths of the Kamenivke clay.</p> + +<p>And Bertzi the water-carrier and his man had to drag the cart with the +great water-barrel themselves, the whole day till long after dark.</p> + +<h4>VI</h4> + +<p>It is already eleven, twelve, half past twelve at night, and Bertzi's +chest, throat, and nostrils continue to pipe and to whistle, to sob and +to sigh.</p> + +<p>The room is colder and darker, the small fire in the oven went out long +ago, and only little stumps of candles remain.</p> + +<p>Rochtzi walks and runs about the room, she weeps and wrings her hands.<a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a></p> + +<p>But now she runs up to the couch by the table, and begins to rouse her +husband with screams and cries fit to make one's blood run cold and the +hair stand up on one's head:</p> + +<p>"No, no, you're not going to sleep any longer, I tell you! Bertzi, do +you hear me? Get up, Bertzi, aren't you a Jew?—a man?—the father of +children?—Bertzi, have you God in your heart? Bertzi, have you said +your prayers? My husband, what about the Seder? I won't have it!—I feel +very ill—I am going to faint!—Help!—Water!"</p> + +<p>"Have I forgotten somebody's water?—Whose?—Where?..."</p> + +<p>But Rochtzi is no longer in need of water: she beholds her "king" on his +feet, and has revived without it. With her two hands, with all the +strength she has, she holds him from falling back onto the couch.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see, Bertzi? The candles are burning down, the supper is cold +and will spoil. I fancy it's already beginning to dawn. The children, +long life to them, went to sleep without any food. Come, please, begin +to prepare for the Seder, and I will wake the two elder ones."</p> + +<p>Bertzi stands bent double and treble. His breathing is labored and loud, +his face is smeared with mud and swollen from the cold, his beard and +earlocks are rough and bristly, his eyes sleepy and red. He looks +strangely wild and unkempt. Bertzi looks at Rochtzi, at the table, he +looks round the room, and sees nothing. But now he looks at the bed: his +little children, washed, and in their holiday dresses, are all lying in +a row across the bed,<a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a> and—he remembers everything, and understands +what Rochtzi is saying, and what it is she wants him to do.</p> + +<p>"Give me some water—I said Minchah and Maariv by the way, while I was +at work."</p> + +<p>"I'm bringing it already! May God grant you a like happiness! Good +health to you! Hershele, get up, my Kaddish, father has come home +already! Shmuelkil, my little son, go and ask father the Four +Questions."</p> + +<p>Bertzi fills a goblet with wine, takes it up in his left hand, places it +upon his right hand, and begins:</p> + +<p>"Savri Moronon, ve-Rabbonon, ve-Rabbosai—with the permission of the +company."—His head goes round.—"Lord of the World!—I am a +Jew.—Blessed art Thou. Lord our God, King of the Universe—" It grows +dark before his eyes: "The first night of Passover—I ought to make +Kiddush—Thou who dost create the fruit of the vine"—his feet fail him, +as though they had been cut off—"and I ought to give the Seder—This is +the bread of the poor.... Lord of the World, you know how it is: I can't +do it!—Have mercy!—Forgive me!"</p> + +<h4>VII</h4> + +<p>A nasty smell of sputtered-out candles fills the room. Rochtzi weeps. +Bertzi is back on the couch and snores.</p> + +<p>Different sounds, like the voices of winds, cattle, and wild beasts, and +the whirr of a mill, are heard in his snoring. And her weeping—it seems +as if the whole room were sighing and quivering and shaking....<a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="EZRIELK_THE_SCRIBE" id="EZRIELK_THE_SCRIBE"></a>EZRIELK THE SCRIBE</h3> + +<p>Forty days before Ezrielk descended upon this sinful world, his +life-partner was proclaimed in Heaven, and the Heavenly Council decided +that he was to transcribe the books of the Law, prayers, and Mezuzehs +for the Kabtzonivke Jews, and thereby make a living for his wife and +children. But the hard word went forth to him that he should not +disclose this secret decree to anyone, and should even forget it himself +for a goodly number of years. A glance at Ezrielk told one that he had +been well lectured with regard to some important matter, and was to tell +no tales out of school. Even Minde, the Kabtzonivke Bobbe, testified to +this:</p> + +<p>"Never in all my life, all the time I've been bringing Jewish children +into God's world, have I known a child scream so loud at birth as +Ezrielk—a sign that he'd had it well rubbed into him!"</p> + +<p>Either the angel who has been sent to fillip little children above the +lips when they are being born, was just then very sleepy (Ezrielk was +born late at night), or some one had put him out of temper, but one way +or another little Ezrielk, the very first minute of his Jewish +existence, caught such a blow that his top lip was all but split in two.</p> + +<p>After this kindly welcome, when God's angel himself had thus received +Ezrielk, slaps, blows, and stripes rained down upon his head, body, and +life, all through his days, without pause or ending.<a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a></p> + +<p>Ezrielk began to attend Cheder when he was exactly three years old. His +first teacher treated him very badly, beat him continually, and took all +the joy of his childhood from him. By the time this childhood of his had +passed, and he came to be married (he began to wear the phylacteries and +the prayer-scarf on the day of his marriage), he was a very poor +specimen, small, thin, stooping, and yellow as an egg-pudding, his +little face dark, dreary, and weazened, like a dried Lender herring. The +only large, full things about him were his earlocks, which covered his +whole face, and his two blue eyes. He had about as much strength as a +fly, he could not even break the wine-glass under the marriage canopy by +himself, and had to ask for help of Reb Yainkef Butz, the beadle of the +Old Shool.</p> + +<p>Among the German Jews a boy like that would have been left unwed till he +was sixteen or even seventeen, but our Ezrielk was married at thirteen, +for his bride had been waiting for him seventeen years.</p> + +<p>It was this way: Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk's father, and Reb Selig +Tachshit, his father-in-law, were Hostre Chassidim, and used to drive +every year to spend the Solemn Days at the Hostre Rebbe's. They both +(not of you be it spoken!) lost all their children in infancy, and, as +you can imagine, they pressed the Rebbe very closely on this important +point, left him no peace, till he should bestir himself on their behalf, +and exercise all his influence in the Higher Spheres. Once, on the Eve +of Yom Kippur, before daylight, after the waving of the scape-fowls, +when the Rebbe, long life to him, was in somewhat high spirits, our two +Chassidim made<a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a> another set upon him, but this time they had quite a new +plan, and it simply <i>had</i> to work out!</p> + +<p>"Do you know what? Arrange a marriage between your children! Good luck +to you!" The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates, and actually +drew up the marriage contract. It was a little difficult to draw up the +contract, because they did not know which of our two friends would have +the boy (the Rebbe, long life to him, was silent on this head), and +which, the girl, but—a learned Jew is never at a loss, and they wrote +out the contract with conditions.</p> + +<p>For three years running after this their wives bore them each a child, +but the children were either both boys or both girls, so that their vow +to unite the son of one to a daughter of the other born in the same year +could not be fulfilled, and the documents lay on the shelf.</p> + +<p>True, the little couples departed for the "real world" within the first +month, but the Rebbe consoled the father by saying:</p> + +<p>"We may be sure they were not true Jewish children, that is, not true +Jewish souls. The true Jewish soul once born into the world holds on, +until, by means of various troubles and trials, it is cleansed from +every stain. Don't worry, but wait."</p> + +<p>The fourth year the Rebbe's words were established: Reb Selig Tachshit +had a daughter born to him, and Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk.</p> + +<p>Channehle, Ezrielk's bride, was tall, when they married, as a young +fir-tree, beautiful as the sun, clever as the day is bright, and white +as snow, with sky-blue,<a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a> star-like eyes. Her hair was the color of ripe +corn—in a word, she was fair as Abigail and our Mother Rachel in one, +winning as Queen Esther, pious as Leah, and upright as our Grandmother +Sarah.</p> + +<p>But although the bride was beautiful, she found no fault with her +bridegroom; on the contrary, she esteemed it a great honor to have him +for a husband. All the Kabtzonivke girls envied her, and every +Kabtzonivke woman who was "expecting" desired with all her heart that +she might have such a son as Ezrielk. The reason is quite plain: First, +what true Jewish maiden looks for beauty in her bridegroom? Secondly, +our Ezrielk was as full of excellencies as a pomegranate is of seeds.</p> + +<p>His teachers had not broken his bones for nothing. The blows had been of +great and lasting good to him. Even before his wedding, Seinwill +Bassis's Ezrielk was deeply versed in the Law, and could solve the +hardest "questions," so that you might have made a Rabbi of him. He was, +moreover, a great scribe. His "in-honor-ofs," and his "blessed bes" were +known, not only in Kabtzonivke, but all over Kamenivke, and as for his +singing—!</p> + +<p>When Ezrielk began to sing, poor people forgot their hunger, thirst, and +need, the sick, their aches and pains, the Kabtzonivke Jews in general, +their bitter exile.</p> + +<p>He mostly sang unfamiliar tunes and whole "things."</p> + +<p>"Where do you get them, Ezrielk?"</p> + +<p>The little Ezrielk would open his eyes (he kept them shut while he +sang), his two big blue eyes, and answer wonderingly:</p> + +<p>"Don't you hear how everything sings?"<a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a></p> + +<p>After a little while, when Ezrielk had been singing so well and so +sweetly and so wonderfully that the Kabtzonivke Jews began to feel too +happy, people fell athinking, and they grew extremely uneasy and +disturbed in their minds:</p> + +<p>"It's not all so simple as it looks, there is something behind it. +Suppose a not-good one had introduced himself into the child (which God +forbid!)? It would do no harm to take him to the Aleskev Rebbe, long +life to him."</p> + +<p>As good luck would have it, the Hostre Rebbe came along just then to +Kabtzonivke, and, after all, Ezrielk belonged to <i>him</i>, he was born +through the merit of the Rebbe's miracle-working! So the Chassidim told +him the story. The Rebbe, long life to him, sent for him. Ezrielk came +and began to sing. The Rebbe listened a long, long time to his sweet +voice, which rang out like a hundred thousand crystal and gold bells +into every corner of the room.</p> + +<p>"Do not be alarmed, he may and he must sing. He gets his tunes there +where he got his soul."</p> + +<p>And Ezrielk sang cheerful tunes till he was ten years old, that is, till +he fell into the hands of the teacher Reb Yainkel Vittiss.</p> + +<p>Now, the end and object of Reb Yainkel's teaching was not merely that +his pupils should know a lot and know it well. Of course, we know that +the Jew only enters this sinful world in order that he may more or less +perfect himself, and that it is therefore needful he should, and, +indeed, he <i>must</i>, sit day and night over the Torah and the +Commentaries. Yainkel<a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a> Vittiss's course of instruction began and ended +with trying to imbue his pupils with a downright, genuine, +Jewish-Chassidic enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The first day Ezrielk entered his Cheder, Reb Yainkel lifted his long, +thick lashes, and began, while he gazed fixedly at him, to shake his +head, saying to himself: "No, no, he won't do like that. There is +nothing wrong with the vessel, a goodly vessel, only the wine is still +very sharp, and the ferment is too strong. He is too cocky, too lively +for me. A wonder, too, for he's been in good hands (tell me, weren't you +under both Moisheh-Yusis?), and it's a pity, when you come to think, +that such a goodly vessel should be wasted. Yes, he wants treating in +quite another way."</p> + +<p>And Yainkel Vittiss set himself seriously to the task of shaping and +working up Ezrielk.</p> + +<p>Reb Yainkel was not in the least concerned when he beat a pupil and the +latter cried and screamed at the top of his voice. He knew what he was +about, and was convinced that, when one beats and it hurts, even a +Jewish child (which must needs get used to blows) may cry and scream, +and the more the better; it showed that his method of instruction was +taking effect. And when he was thrashing Ezrielk, and the boy cried and +yelled, Reb Yainkel would tell him: "That's right, that's the way! Cry, +scream—louder still! That's the way to get a truly contrite Jewish +heart! You sing too merrily for me—a true Jew should weep even while he +sings."</p> + +<p>When Ezrielk came to be twelve years old, his teacher declared that he +might begin to recite the prayers in Shool before the congregation, as +he now had within him that which beseems a good Chassidic Jew.<a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a></p> + +<p>So Ezrielk began to davven in the Kabtzonivke Old Shool, and a crowd of +people, not only from Kabtzonivke, but even from Kamenivke and +Ebionivke, used to fill and encircle the Shool to hear him.</p> + +<p>Reb Yainkel was not mistaken, he knew what he was saying. Ezrielk was +indeed fit to davven: life and the joy of life had vanished from his +singing, and the terrorful weeping, the fearful wailing of a nation's +two thousand years of misfortune, might be heard and felt in his voice.</p> + +<p>Ezrielk was very weakly, and too young to lead the service often, but +what a stir he caused when he lifted up his voice in the Shool!</p> + +<p>Kabtzonivke, Kamenivke, and Ebionivke will never forget the first +U-mipné Chatoénu led by the twelve-year-old Ezrielk, standing before the +precentor's desk in a long, wide prayer-scarf.</p> + +<p>The men, women, and children who were listening inside and outside the +Old Shool felt a shudder go through them, their hair stood on end, and +their hearts wept and fluttered in their breasts.</p> + +<p>Ezrielk's voice wept and implored, "on account of our sins."</p> + +<p class="top5">At the time when Ezrielk was distinguishing himself on this fashion with +his chanting, the Jewish doctor from Kamenivke happened to be in the +place. He saw the crowd round the Old Shool, and he went in. As you may +suppose, he was much longer in coming out. He was simply riveted to the +spot, and it is said that he rubbed his eyes more than once while he +listened<a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a> and looked. On coming away, he told them to bring Ezrielk to +see him on the following day, saying that he wished to see him, and +would take no fee.</p> + +<p>Next day Ezrielk came with his mother to the doctor's house.</p> + +<p>"A blow has struck me! A thunder has killed me! Reb Yainkel, do you know +what the doctor said?"</p> + +<p>"You silly woman, don't scream so! He cannot have said anything bad +about Ezrielk. What is the matter? Did he hear him intone the Gemoreh, +or perhaps sing? Don't cry and lament like that!"</p> + +<p>"Reb Yainkel, what are you talking about? The doctor said that my +Ezrielk is in danger, that he's ill, that he hasn't a sound organ—his +heart, his lungs, are all sick. Every little bone in him is broken. He +mustn't sing or study—the bath will be his death—he must have a long +cure—he must be sent away for air. God (he said to me) has given you a +precious gift, such as Heaven and earth might envy. Will you go and bury +it with your own hands?"</p> + +<p>"And you were frightened and believed him? Nonsense! I've had Ezrielk in +my Cheder two years. Do I want <i>him</i> to come and tell me what goes on +there? If <i>he</i> were a really good doctor, and had one drop of Jewish +blood left in his veins, wouldn't he know that every true Jew has a sick +heart, a bad lung, broken bones, and deformed limbs, and is well and +strong in spite of it, because the holy Torah is the best medicine for +all sicknesses? Ha, ha, ha! And <i>he</i> wants Ezrielk to give up learning +and the bath? Do you know what? Go home and send Ezrielk to Cheder at +once!"<a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a></p> + +<p>The Kamenivke doctor made one or two more attempts at alarming Ezrielk's +parents; he sent his assistant to them more than once, but it was no +use, for after what Reb Yainkel had said, nobody would hear of any +doctoring.</p> + +<p>So Ezrielk continued to study the Talmud and occasionally to lead the +service in Shool, like the Chassidic child he was, had a dip nearly +every morning in the bath-house, and at thirteen, good luck to him, he +was married.</p> + +<p>The Hostre Rebbe himself honored the wedding with his presence. The +Rebbe, long life to him, was fond of Ezrielk, almost as though he had +been his own child. The whole time the saint stayed in Kabtzonivke, +Kamenivke, and Ebionivke, Ezrielk had to be near him.</p> + +<p>When they told the Rebbe the story of the doctor, he remarked, "Ett! +what do <i>they</i> know?"</p> + +<p>And Ezrielk continued to recite the prayers after his marriage, and to +sing as before, and was the delight of all who heard him.</p> + +<p>Agreeably to the marriage contract, Ezrielk and his Channehle had a +double right to board with their parents "forever"; when they were born +and the written engagements were filled in, each was an only child, and +both Reb Seinwill and Reb Selig undertook to board them "forever." True, +when the parents wedded their "one and only children," they had both of +them a houseful of little ones and no Parnosseh (they really hadn't!), +but they did not go back upon their word with regard to the "board +forever."<a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a></p> + +<p>Of course, it is understood that the two "everlasting boards" lasted +nearly one whole year, and Ezrielk and his wife might well give thanks +for not having died of hunger in the course of it, such a bad, bitter +year as it was for their poor parents. It was the year of the great +flood, when both Reb Seinwill Bassis and Reb Selig Tachshit had their +houses ruined.</p> + +<p>Ezrielk, Channehle, and their little son had to go and shift for +themselves. But the other inhabitants of Kabtzonivke, regardless of +this, now began to envy them in earnest: what other couple of their age, +with a child and without a farthing, could so easily make a livelihood +as they?</p> + +<p>Hardly had it come to the ears of the three towns that Ezrielk was +seeking a Parnosseh when they were all astir. All the Shools called +meetings, and sought for means and money whereby they might entice the +wonderful cantor and secure him for themselves. There was great +excitement in the Shools. Fancy finding in a little, thin Jewish lad all +the rare and precious qualities that go to make a great cantor! The +trustees of all the Shools ran about day and night, and a fierce war +broke out among them.</p> + +<p>The war raged five times twenty-four hours, till the Great Shool in +Kamenivke carried the day. Not one of the others could have dreamed of +offering him such a salary—three hundred rubles and everything found!</p> + +<p>"God is my witness"—thus Ezrielk opened his heart, as he sat afterwards +with the company of Hostre Chassidim over a little glass of +brandy—"that I find it very hard to leave our Old Shool, where my +grandfather<a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a> and great-grandfather used to pray. Believe me, brothers, I +would not do it, only they give me one hundred and fifty rubles +earnest-money, and I want to pass it on to my father and father-in-law, +so that they may rebuild their houses. To your health, brothers! Drink +to my remaining an honest Jew, and wish that my head may not be turned +by the honor done to me!"</p> + +<p>And Ezrielk began to davven and to sing (again without a choir) in the +Great Shool, in the large town of Kamenivke. There he intoned the +prayers as he had never done before, and showed who Ezrielk was! The Old +Shool in Kabtzonivke had been like a little box for his voice.</p> + +<p>In those days Ezrielk and his household lived in happiness and plenty, +and he and Channehle enjoyed the respect and consideration of all men. +When Ezrielk led the service, the Shool was filled to overflowing, and +not only with Jews, even the richest Gentiles (I beg to distinguish!) +came to hear him, and wondered how such a small and weakly creature as +Ezrielk, with his thin chest and throat, could bring out such wonderful +tunes and whole compositions of his own! Money fell upon the lucky +couple, through circumcisions, weddings, and so on, like snow. Only one +thing began, little by little, to disturb their happiness: Ezrielk took +to coughing, and then to spitting blood.</p> + +<p>He used to complain that he often felt a kind of pain in his throat and +chest, but they did not consult a doctor.</p> + +<p>"What, a doctor?" fumed Reb Yainkel. "Nonsense! It hurts, does it? +Where's the wonder? A carpenter,<a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a> a smith, a tailor, a shoemaker works +with his hands, and his hands hurt. Cantors and teachers and +match-makers work with their throat and chest, and <i>these</i> hurt, they +are bound to do so. It is simply hemorrhoids."</p> + +<p>So Ezrielk went on intoning and chanting, and the Kamenivke Jews licked +their fingers, and nearly jumped out of their skin for joy when they +heard him.</p> + +<p>Two years passed in this way, and then came a change.</p> + +<p>It was early in the morning of the Fast of the Destruction of the +Temple, all the windows of the Great Shool were open, and all the +tables, benches, and desks had been carried out from the men's hall and +the women's hall the evening before. Men and women sat on the floor, so +closely packed a pin could not have fallen to the floor between them. +The whole street in which was the Great Shool was chuck full with a +terrible crowd of men, women, and children, although it just happened to +be cold, wet weather. The fact is, Ezrielk's Lamentations had long been +famous throughout the Jewish world in those parts, and whoever had ears, +a Jewish heart, and sound feet, came that day to hear him. The sad +epidemic disease that (not of our days be it spoken!) swallows men up, +was devastating Kamenivke and its surroundings that year, and everyone +sought a place and hour wherein to weep out his opprest and bitter +heart.</p> + +<p>Ezrielk also sat on the floor reciting Lamentations, but the man who sat +there was not the same Ezrielk, and the voice heard was not his. +Ezrielk, with his sugar-sweet, honeyed voice, had suddenly been +transformed<a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a> into a strange being, with a voice that struck terror into +his hearers; the whole people saw, heard, and felt, how a strange +creature was flying about among them with a fiery sword in his hand. He +slashes, hews, and hacks at their hearts, and with a terrible voice he +cries out and asks: "Sinners! Where is your holy land that flowed with +milk and honey? Slaves! Where is your Temple? Accursed slaves! You sold +your freedom for money and calumny, for honors and worldly greatness!"</p> + +<p>The people trembled and shook and were all but entirely dissolved in +tears. "Upon Zion and her cities!" sang out once more Ezrielk's +melancholy voice, and suddenly something snapped in his throat, just as +when the strings of a good fiddle snap when the music is at its best. +Ezrielk coughed, and was silent. A stream of blood poured from his +throat, and he grew white as the wall.</p> + +<p>The doctor declared that Ezrielk had lost his voice forever, and would +remain hoarse for the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" persisted Reb Yainkel. "His voice is breaking—it's nothing +more!"</p> + +<p>"God will help!" was the comment of the Hostre saint. A whole year went +by, and Ezrielk's voice neither broke nor returned to him. The Hostre +Chassidim assembled in the house of Elkoneh the butcher to consider and +take counsel as to what Ezrielk should take to in order to earn a +livelihood for wife and children. They thought it over a long, long +time, talked and gave their several opinions, till they hit upon this: +Ezrielk had still<a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a> one hundred and fifty rubles in store—let him spend +one hundred rubles on a house in Kabtzonivke, and begin to traffic with +the remainder.</p> + +<p>Thus Ezrielk became a trader. He began driving to fairs, and traded in +anything and everything capable of being bought or sold.</p> + +<p>Six months were not over before Ezrielk was out of pocket. He mortgaged +his property, and with the money thus obtained he opened a grocery shop +for Channehle. He himself (nothing satisfies a Jew!) started to drive +about in the neighborhood, to collect the contributions subscribed for +the maintenance of the Hostre Rebbe, long life to him!</p> + +<p>Ezrielk was five months on the road, and when, torn, worn, and +penniless, he returned home, he found Channehle brought to bed of her +fourth child, and the shop bare of ware and equally without a groschen. +But Ezrielk was now something of a trader, and is there any strait in +which a Jewish trader has not found himself? Ezrielk had soon disposed +of the whole of his property, paid his debts, rented a larger lodging, +and started trading in several new and more ambitious lines: he pickled +gherkins, cabbages, and pumpkins, made beet soup, both red and white, +and offered them for sale, and so on. It was Channehle again who had to +carry on most of the business, but, then, Ezrielk did not sit with his +hands in his pockets. Toward Passover he had Shmooreh Matzes; he baked +and sold them to the richest householders in Kamenivke, and before the +Solemn Days he, as an expert, tried and recommended cantors and +prayer-leaders for the Kamenivke Shools.<a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a> When it came to Tabernacles, +he trafficked in citrons and "palms."</p> + +<p>For three years Ezrielk and his Channehle struggled at their trades, +working themselves nearly to death (of Zion's enemies be it spoken!), +till, with the help of Heaven, they came to be twenty years old.</p> + +<p>By this time Ezrielk and Channehle were the parents of four living and +two dead children. Channehle, the once so lovely Channehle, looked like +a beaten Hoshanah, and Ezrielk—you remember the picture drawn at the +time of his wedding?—well, then try to imagine what he was like now, +after those seven years we have described for you! It's true that he was +not spitting blood any more, either because Reb Yainkel had been right, +when he said that would pass away, or because there was not a drop of +blood in the whole of his body.</p> + +<p>So that was all right—only, how were they to live? Even Reb Yainkel and +all the Hostre Chassidim together could not tell him!</p> + +<p>The singing had raised him and lifted him off his feet, and let him +fall. And do you know why it was and how it was that everything Ezrielk +took to turned out badly? It was because the singing was always there, +in his head and his heart. He prayed and studied, singing. He bought and +sold, singing. He sang day and night. No one heard him, because he was +hoarse, but he sang without ceasing. Was it likely he would be a +successful trader, when he was always listening to what Heaven and earth +and everything around him were singing, too? He only wished he could +have been a slaughterer or a Rav (he was apt enough at study),<a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a> only, +first, Rabbonim and slaughterers don't die every day, and, second, they +usually leave heirs to take their places; third, even supposing there +were no such heirs, one has to pay "privilege-money," and where is it to +come from? No, there was nothing to be done. Only God could and must +have pity on him and his wife and children, and help them somehow.</p> + +<p>Ezrielk struggled and fought his need hard enough those days. One good +thing for him was this—his being a Hostre Chossid; the Hostre +Chassidim, although they have been famed from everlasting as the direst +poor among the Jews, yet they divide their last mouthful with their +unfortunate brethren. But what can the gifts of mortal men, and of such +poor ones into the bargain, do in a case like Ezrielk's? And God alone +knows what bitter end would have been his, if Reb Shmuel Bär, the +Kabtzonivke scribe, had not just then (blessed be the righteous Judge!) +met with a sudden death. Our Ezrielk was not long in feeling that he, +and only he, should, and, indeed, must, step into Reb Shmuel's shoes. +Ezrielk had been an expert at the scribe's work for years and years. +Why, his father's house and the scribe's had been nearly under one roof, +and whenever Ezrielk, as a child, was let out of Cheder, he would go and +sit any length of time in Reb Shmuel's room (something in the occupation +attracted him) and watch him write. And the little Ezrielk had more than +once tried to make a piece of parchment out of a scrap of skin; and what +Jewish boy cannot prepare the veins that are used to sew the +phylacteries and the scrolls of the Law? Nor was the scribe's ink a +secret to Ezrielk.<a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a></p> + +<p>So Ezrielk became scribe in Kabtzonivke.</p> + +<p>Of course, he did not make a fortune. Reb Shmuel Bär, who had been a +scribe all his days, died a very poor man, and left a roomful of hungry, +half-naked children behind him, but then—what Jew, I ask you (or has +Messiah come?), ever expected to find a Parnosseh with enough, really +enough, to eat?<a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="YITZCHOK-YOSSEL_BROITGEBER" id="YITZCHOK-YOSSEL_BROITGEBER"></a>YITZCHOK-YOSSEL BROITGEBER</h3> + +<p>At the time I am speaking of, the above was about forty years old. He +was a little, thin Jew with a long face, a long nose, two large, black, +kindly eyes, and one who would sooner be silent and think than talk, no +matter what was being said to him. Even when he was scolded for +something (and by whom and when and for what was he <i>not</i> scolded?), he +used to listen with a quiet, startled, but sweet smile, and his large, +kindly eyes would look at the other with such wonderment, mingled with a +sort of pity, that the other soon stopped short in his abuse, and stood +nonplussed before him.</p> + +<p>"There, you may talk! You might as well argue with a horse, or a donkey, +or the wall, or a log of wood!" and the other would spit and make off.</p> + +<p>But if anyone observed that smile attentively, and studied the look in +his eyes, he would, to a certainty, have read there as follows:</p> + +<p>"O man, man, why are you eating your heart out? Seeing that you don't +know, and that you don't understand, why do you undertake to tell me +what I ought to do?"</p> + +<p>And when he was obliged to answer, he used to do so in a few measured +and gentle words, as you would speak to a little, ignorant child, +smiling the while, and then he would disappear and start thinking again.</p> + +<p>They called him "breadwinner," because, no matter how hard the man +worked, he was never able to earn a living. He was a little tailor, but +not like the tailors<a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a> nowadays, who specialize in one kind of garment, +for Yitzchok-Yossel made everything: trousers, cloaks, waistcoats, +top-coats, fur-coats, capes, collars, bags for prayer-books, "little +prayer-scarfs," and so on. Besides, he was a ladies' tailor as well. +Summer and winter, day and night, he worked like an ox, and yet, when +the Kabtzonivke community, at the time of the great cholera, in order to +put an end to the plague, led him, aged thirty, out to the cemetery, and +there married him to Malkeh the orphan, she cast him off two weeks +later! She was still too young (twenty-eight), she said, to stay with +him and die of hunger. She went out into the world, together with a +large band of poor, after the great fire that destroyed nearly the whole +town, and nothing more was heard of Malkeh the orphan from that day +forward. And Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber betook himself, with needle and +flat-iron, into the women's chamber in the New Shool, the community +having assigned it to him as a workroom.</p> + +<p>How came it about, you may ask, that so versatile a tailor as +Yitzchok-Yossel should be so poor?</p> + +<p>Well, if you do, it just shows you didn't know him!</p> + +<p>Wait and hear what I shall tell you.</p> + +<p>The story is on this wise: Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber was a tailor who +could make anything, and who made nothing at all, that is, since he +displayed his imagination in cutting out and sewing on the occasion I am +referring to, nobody would trust him.</p> + +<p>I can remember as if it were to-day what happened in Kabtzonivke, and +the commotion there was in the little town when Yitzchok-Yossel made Reb +Yecheskel the<a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a> teacher a pair of trousers (begging your pardon!) of such +fantastic cut that the unfortunate teacher had to wear them as a vest, +though he was not then in need of one, having a brand new sheepskin not +more than three years old.</p> + +<p>And now listen! Binyomin Droibnik the trader's mother died (blessed be +the righteous Judge!), and her whole fortune went, according to the Law, +to her only son Binyomin. She had to be buried at the expense of the +community. If she was to be buried at all, it was the only way. But the +whole town was furious with the old woman for having cheated them out of +their expectations and taken her whole fortune away with her to the real +world. None knew exactly <i>why</i>, but it was confidently believed that old +"Aunt" Leah had heaps of treasure somewhere in hiding.</p> + +<p>It was a custom with us in Kabtzonivke to say, whenever anyone, man or +woman, lived long, ate sicknesses by the clock, and still did not die, +that it was a sign that he had in the course of his long life gathered +great store of riches, that somewhere in a cellar he kept potsful of +gold and silver.</p> + +<p>The Funeral Society, the younger members, had long been whetting their +teeth for "Aunt" Leah's fortune, and now she had died (may she merit +Paradise!) and had fooled them.</p> + +<p>"What about her money?"</p> + +<p>"A cow has flown over the roof and laid an egg!"</p> + +<p>In that same night Reb Binyomin's cow (a real cow) calved, and the +unfortunate consequence was that she died. The Funeral Society took the +calf, and buried "Aunt" Leah at its own expense.<a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a></p> + +<p>Well, money or no money, inheritance or no inheritance, Reb Binyomin's +old mother left him a quilt, a large, long, wide, wadded quilt. As an +article of house furniture, a quilt is a very useful thing, especially +in a house where there is a wife (no evil eye!) and a goodly number of +children, little and big. Who doesn't see that? It looks simple enough! +Either one keeps it for oneself and the two little boys (with whom Reb +Binyomin used to sleep), or else one gives it to the wife and the two +little girls (who also sleep all together), or, if not, then to the two +bigger boys or the two bigger girls, who repose on the two bench-beds in +the parlor and kitchen respectively. But this particular quilt brought +such perplexity into Reb Binyomin's rather small head that he (not of +you be it spoken!) nearly went mad.</p> + +<p>"Why I and not she? Why she and not I? Or they? Or the others? Why they +and not I? Why them and not us? Why the others and not them? Well, well, +what is all this fuss? What did we cover them with before?"</p> + +<p>Three days and three nights Reb Binyomin split his head and puzzled his +brains over these questions, till the Almighty had pity on his small +skull and feeble intelligence, and sent him a happy thought.</p> + +<p>"After all, it is an inheritance from one's one and only mother (peace +be upon her!), it is a thing from Thingland! I must adapt it to some +useful purpose, so that Heaven and earth may envy me its possession!" +And he sent to fetch Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, the tailor, who could +make every kind of garment, and said to him:<a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a></p> + +<p>"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, you see this article?"</p> + +<p>"I see it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see it, but do you understand it, really and truly understand +it?"</p> + +<p>"I think I do."</p> + +<p>"But do you know what this is, ha?"</p> + +<p>"A quilt."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha! A quilt? I could have told you that myself. But the stuff, +the material?"</p> + +<p>"It's good material, beautiful stuff."</p> + +<p>"Good material, beautiful stuff? No, I beg your pardon, you are not an +expert in this, you don't know the value of merchandise. The real +artisan, the true expert, would say: The material is light, soft, and +elastic, like a lung, a sound and healthy lung. The stuff—he would say +further—is firm, full, and smooth as the best calf's leather. And +durable? Why, it's a piece out of the heart of the strongest ox, or the +tongue of the Messianic ox itself! Do you know how many winters this +quilt has lasted already? But enough! That is not why I have sent for +you. We are neither of us, thanks to His blessed Name, do-nothings. The +long and short of it is this: I wish to make out of this—you understand +me?—out of this material, out of this piece of stuff, a thing, an +article, that shall draw everybody to it, a fruit that is worth saying +the blessing over, something superfine. An instance: what, for example, +tell me, what would you do, if I gave this piece of goods into your +hands, and said to you: Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, as you are (without sin be +it spoken!) an old workman, a good workman, and, besides that, a<a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a> good +comrade, and a Jew as well, take this material, this stuff, and deal +with it as you think best. Only let it be turned into a sort of costume, +a sort of garment, so that not only Kabtzonivke, but all Kamenivke, +shall be bitten and torn with envy. Eh? What would you turn it into?"</p> + +<p>Yitzchok-Yossel was silent, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel went nearly out of his +mind, nearly fainted for joy at these last words. He grew pale as death, +white as chalk, then burning red like a flame of fire, and sparkled and +shone. And no wonder: Was it a trifle? All his life he had dreamed of +the day when he should be given a free hand in his work, so that +everyone should see who Yitzchok-Yossel is, and at the end came—the +trousers, Reb Yecheskel Melammed's trousers! How well, how cleverly he +had made them! Just think: trousers and upper garment in one! He had +been so overjoyed, he had felt so happy. So sure that now everyone would +know who Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber is! He had even begun to think and +wonder about Malkeh the orphan—poor, unfortunate orphan! Had she ever +had one single happy day in her life? Work forever and next to no food, +toil till she was exhausted and next to no drink, sleep where she could +get it: one time in Elkoneh the butcher's kitchen, another time in +Yisroel Dintzis' attic ... and when at last she got married (good luck +to her!), she became the wife of Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber! And the +wedding took place in the burial-ground. On one side they were digging +graves, on the other they were bringing fresh corpses. There was weeping +and wailing, and in the middle of it all, the<a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a> musicians playing and +fiddling and singing, and the relations dancing!... Good luck! Good +luck! The orphan and her breadwinner are being led to the marriage +canopy in the graveyard!</p> + +<p>He will never forget with what gusto, she, his bride, the first night +after their wedding, ate, drank, and slept—the whole of the +wedding-supper that had been given them, bridegroom and bride: a nice +roll, a glass of brandy, a tea-glass full of wine, and a heaped-up plate +of roast meat was cut up and scraped together and eaten (no evil eye!) +by <i>her</i>, by the bride herself. He had taken great pleasure in watching +her face. He had known her well from childhood, and had no need to look +at her to know what she was like, but he wanted to see what kind of +feelings her face would express during this occupation. When they led +him into the bridal chamber—she was already there—the companions of +the bridegroom burst into a shout of laughter, for the bride was already +snoring. He knew quite well why she had gone to sleep so quickly and +comfortably. Was there not sufficient reason? For the first time in her +life she had made a good meal and lain down in a bed with bedclothes!</p> + +<p>The six groschen candle burnt, the flies woke and began to buzz, the +mills clapt, and swung, and groaned, and he, Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, +the bridegroom, sat beside the bridal bed on a little barrel of pickled +gherkins, and looked at Malkeh the orphan, his bride, his wife, listened +to her loud thick snores, and thought.</p> + +<p>The town dogs howled strangely. Evidently the wedding in the cemetery +had not yet driven away the Angel<a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a> of Death. From some of the +neighboring houses came a dreadful crying and screaming of women and +children.</p> + +<p>Malkeh the orphan heard nothing. She slept sweetly, and snored as loud +(I beg to distinguish!) as Caspar, the tall, stout miller, the owner of +both mills.</p> + +<p>Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber sits on the little barrel, looks at her face, +and thinks. Her face is dark, roughened, and nearly like that of an old +woman. A great, fat fly knocked against the wick, the candle suddenly +began to burn brighter, and Yitzchok-Yossel saw her face become +prettier, younger, and fresher, and overspread by a smile. That was all +the effect of the supper and the soft bed. Then it was that he had +promised himself, that he had sworn, once and for all, to show the +Kabtzonivke Jews who he is, and then Malkeh the orphan will have food +and a bed every day. He would have done this long ago, had it not been +for those trousers. The people are so silly, they don't understand! That +is the whole misfortune! And it's quite the other way about: let someone +else try and turn out such an ingenious contrivance! But because it was +he, and not someone else, they laughed and made fun of him. How Reb +Yecheskel, his wife and children, did abuse him! That was his reward for +all his trouble. And just because they themselves are cattle, horses, +boors, who don't understand the tailor's art! Ha, if only they +understood that tailoring is a noble, refined calling, limitless and +bottomless as (with due distinction!) the holy Torah!</p> + +<p>But all is not lost. Who knows? For here comes Binyomin Droibnik, an +intelligent man, a man of brains<a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a> and feeling. And think how many years +he has been a trader! A retail trader, certainly, a jobber, but still—</p> + +<p>"Come, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, make an end! What will you turn it into?"</p> + +<p>"Everything."</p> + +<p>"That is to say?"</p> + +<p>"A dressing-gown for your Dvoshke,—"</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"A morning-gown with tassels,—"</p> + +<p>"After that?"</p> + +<p>"A coat."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"A dress—"</p> + +<p>"And besides that?"</p> + +<p>"A pair of trousers and a jacket—"</p> + +<p>"Nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? A—"</p> + +<p>"For instance?"</p> + +<p>"Pelisse, a wadded winter pelisse for you."</p> + +<p>"There, there! Just that, and only that!" said Reb Binyomin, delighted.</p> + +<p>Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber tucked away the quilt under his arm, and was +preparing to be off.</p> + +<p>"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! And what about taking my measure? And how about +your charge?"</p> + +<p>Yitzchok-Yossel dearly loved to take anyone's measure, and was an expert +at so doing. He had soon pulled a fair-sized sheet of paper out of one +of his deep pockets, folded it into a long paper stick, and begun to +measure Reb Binyomin Droibnik's limbs. He did not even omit to note the +length and breadth of his feet.<a name="page_245" id="page_245"></a></p> + +<p>"What do you want with that? Are you measuring me for trousers?"</p> + +<p>"Ett, don't you ask! No need to teach a skilled workman his trade!"</p> + +<p>"And what about the charge?"</p> + +<p>"We shall settle that later."</p> + +<p>"No, that won't do with me; I am a trader, you understand, and must have +it all pat."</p> + +<p>"Five gulden."</p> + +<p>"And how much less?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know? Well, four."</p> + +<p>"Well, and half a ruble?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well—"</p> + +<p>"Remember, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, it must be a masterpiece!"</p> + +<p>"Trust me!"</p> + +<p class="top5">For five days and five nights Yitzchok-Yossel set his imagination to +work on Binyomin Droibnik's inheritance. There was no eating for him, no +drinking, and no sleeping. The scissors squeaked, the needle ran hither +and thither, up and down, the inheritance sighed and almost sobbed under +the hot iron. But how happy was Yitzchok-Yossel those lightsome days and +merry nights? Who could compare with him? Greater than the Kabtzonivke +village elder, richer than Yisroel Dintzis, the tax-gatherer, and more +exalted than the bailiff himself was Yitzchok-Yossel, that is, in his +own estimation. All that he wished, thought, and felt was forthwith +created by means of his scissors and iron, his thimble, needle, and +cotton. No more putting on<a name="page_246" id="page_246"></a> of patches, sewing on of pockets, cutting +out of "Tefillin-Säcklech" and "little prayer-scarfs," no more doing up +of old dresses. Freedom, freedom—he wanted one bit of work of the right +sort, and that was all! Ha, now he would show them, the Kabtzonivke +cripples and householders, now he would show them who Yitzchok-Yossel +Broitgeber is! They would not laugh at him or tease him any more! His +fame would travel from one end of the world to the other, and Malkeh the +orphan, his bride, his wife, she also would hear of it, and—</p> + +<p>She will come back to him! He feels it in every limb. It was not him she +cast off, only his bad luck. He will rent a lodging (money will pour in +from all sides)—buy a little furniture: a bed, a sofa, a table—in time +he will buy a little house of his own—she will come, she has been +homeless long enough—it is time she should rest her weary, aching +bones—it is high time she should have her own corner!</p> + +<p>She will come back, he feels it, she will certainly come home!</p> + +<p>The last night! The work is complete. Yitzchok-Yossel spread it out on +the table of the women's Shool, lighted a second groschen candle, sat +down in front of it with wide open, sparkling eyes, gazed with delight +at the product of his imagination and—was wildly happy!</p> + +<p>So he sat the whole night.</p> + +<p>It was very hard for him to part with his achievement, but hardly was it +day when he appeared with it at Reb Binyomin Droibnik's.<a name="page_247" id="page_247"></a></p> + +<p>"A good morning, a good year, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! I see by your eyes +that you have been successful. Is it true?"</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself, there—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, there is no need for me to see it first. Dvoshke, Cheike, +Shprintze, Dovid-Hershel, Yitzchok-Yoelik! You understand, I want them +all to be present and see."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the whole family had appeared on the scene. Even the +four little ones popped up from behind the heaps of ragged covering.</p> + +<p>Yitzchok-Yossel untied his parcel and—</p> + +<p>"<i>Wuus is duuuusss???!!!</i>"</p> + +<p>"A pair of trousers with sleeves!"</p> + +<p><a name="page_248" id="page_248"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_249" id="page_249"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="JUDAH_STEINBERG" id="JUDAH_STEINBERG"></a>JUDAH STEINBERG</h3> + +<p>Born, 1863, in Lipkany, Bessarabia; died, 1907, in Odessa; education +Hasidic; entered business in a small Roumanian village for a short time; +teacher, from 1889 in Jedency and from 1896 in Leowo, Bessarabia; +removed to Odessa, in 1905, to become correspondent of New York Warheit; +writer of fables, stories, and children's tales in Hebrew, and poems in +Yiddish; historical drama, Ha-Sotah; collected works in Hebrew, 3 vols., +Cracow, 1910-1911 (in course of publication).</p> + +<p><a name="page_250" id="page_250"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_251" id="page_251"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_LIVELIHOOD" id="A_LIVELIHOOD"></a>A LIVELIHOOD</h3> + +<p>The two young fellows Maxim Klopatzel and Israel Friedman were natives +of the same town in New Bessarabia, and there was an old link existing +between them: a mutual detestation inherited from their respective +parents. Maxim's father was the chief Gentile of the town, for he rented +the corn-fields of its richest inhabitant; and as the lawyer of the rich +citizen was a Jew, little Maxim imagined, when his father came to lose +his tenantry, that it was owing to the Jews. Little Struli was the only +Jewish boy he knew (the children were next door neighbors), and so a +large share of their responsibility was laid on Struli's shoulders. +Later on, when Klopatzel, the father, had abandoned the plough and taken +to trade, he and old Friedman frequently came in contact with each other +as rivals.</p> + +<p>They traded and traded, and competed one against the other, till they +both become bankrupt, when each argued to himself that the other was at +the bottom of his misfortune—and their children grew on in mutual +hatred.</p> + +<p>A little later still, Maxim put down to Struli's account part of the +nails which were hammered into his Savior, over at the other end of the +town, by the well, where the Government and the Church had laid out +money and set up a crucifix with a ladder, a hammer, and all other +necessary implements.</p> + +<p>And Struli, on his part, had an account to settle with Maxim respecting +certain other nails driven in with<a name="page_252" id="page_252"></a> hammers, and torn scrolls of the +Law, and the history of the ten martyrs of the days of Titus, not to +mention a few later ones.</p> + +<p>Their hatred grew with them, its strength increased with theirs.</p> + +<p>When Krushevan began to deal in anti-Semitism, Maxim learned that +Christian children were carried off into the Shool, Struli's Shool, for +the sake of their blood.</p> + +<p>Thenceforth Maxim's hatred of Struli was mingled with fear. He was +terrified when he passed the Shool at night, and he used to dream that +Struli stood over him in a prayer robe, prepared to slaughter him with a +ram's horn trumpet.</p> + +<p>This because he had once passed the Shool early one Jewish New Year's +Day, had peeped through the window, and seen the ram's horn blower +standing in his white shroud, armed with the Shofar, and suddenly a +heartrending voice broke out with Min ha-Mezar, and Maxim, taking his +feet on his shoulders, had arrived home more dead than alive. There was +very nearly a commotion. The priest wanted to persuade him that the Jews +had tried to obtain his blood.</p> + +<p>So the two children grew into youth as enemies. Their fathers died, and +the increased difficulties of their position increased their enmity.</p> + +<p>The same year saw them called to military service, from which they had +both counted on exemption as the only sons of widowed mothers; only +Israel's mother had lately died, bequeathing to the Czar all she had—a +soldier; and Maxim's mother had united herself to<a name="page_253" id="page_253"></a> a second +provider—and there was an end of the two "only sons!"</p> + +<p>Neither of them wished to serve; they were too intellectually capable, +too far developed mentally, too intelligent, to be turned all at once +into Russian soldiers, and too nicely brought up to march from Port +Arthur to Mukden with only one change of shirt. They both cleared out, +and stowed themselves away till they 'fell separately into the hands of +the military.</p> + +<p>They came together again under the fortress walls of Mukden.</p> + +<p>They ate and hungered sullenly round the same cooking pot, received +punches from the same officer, and had the same longing for the same +home.</p> + +<p>Israel had a habit of talking in his sleep, and, like a born +Bessarabian, in his Yiddish mixed with a large portion of Roumanian +words.</p> + +<p>One night, lying in the barracks among the other soldiers, and sunk in +sleep after a hard day, Struli began to talk sixteen to the dozen. He +called out names, he quarrelled, begged pardon, made a fool of +himself—all in his sleep.</p> + +<p>It woke Maxim, who overheard the homelike names and phrases, the name of +his native town.</p> + +<p>He got up, made his way between the rows of sleepers, and sat down by +Israel's pallet, and listened.</p> + +<p>Next day Maxim managed to have a large helping of porridge, more than he +could eat, and he found Israel, and set it before him.</p> + +<p>"Maltzimesk!" said the other, thanking him in Roumanian, and a thrill of +delight went through Maxim's frame.<a name="page_254" id="page_254"></a></p> + +<p>The day following, Maxim was hit by a Japanese bullet, and there +happened to be no one beside him at the moment.</p> + +<p>The shock drove all the soldier-speech out of his head. "Help, I am +killed!" he called out, and fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>Struli was at his side like one sprung from the earth, he tore off his +Four-Corners, and made his comrade a bandage.</p> + +<p>The wound turned out to be slight, for the bullet had passed through, +only grazing the flesh of the left arm. A few days later Maxim was back +in the company.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to see you again, Struli," he said, greeting his comrade in +Roumanian.</p> + +<p>A flash of brotherly affection and gratitude lighted Struli's Semitic +eyes, and he took the other into his arms, and pressed him to his heart.</p> + +<p>They felt themselves to be "countrymen," of one and the same native +town.</p> + +<p>Neither of them could have told exactly when their union of spirit had +been accomplished, but each one knew that he thanked God for having +brought him together with so near a compatriot in a strange land.</p> + +<p>And when the battle of Mukden had made Maxim all but totally blind, and +deprived Struli of one foot, they started for home together, according +to the passage in the Midrash, "Two men with one pair of eyes and one +pair of feet between them." Maxim carried on his shoulders a wooden box, +which had now became a burden in common for them, and Struli limped a +little in front of him, leaning lightly against his companion, so as to<a name="page_255" id="page_255"></a> +keep him in the smooth part of the road and out of other people's way.</p> + +<p>Struli had become Maxim's eyes, and Maxim, Struli's feet; they were two +men grown into one, and they provided for themselves out of one pocket, +now empty of the last ruble.</p> + +<p>They dragged themselves home. "A kasa, a kasa!" whispered Struli into +Maxim's ear, and the other turned on him his two glazed eyes looking +through a red haze, and set in swollen red lids.</p> + +<p>A childlike smile played on his lips:</p> + +<p>"A kasa, a kasa!" he repeated, also in a whisper.</p> + +<p>Home appeared to their fancy as something holy, something consoling, +something that could atone and compensate for all they had suffered and +lost. They had seen such a home in their dreams.</p> + +<p>But the nearer they came to it in reality, the more the dream faded. +They remembered that they were returning as conquered soldiers and +crippled men, that they had no near relations and but few friends, while +the girls who had coquetted with Maxim before he left would never waste +so much as a look on him now he was half-blind; and Struli's plans for +marrying and emigrating to America were frustrated: a cripple would not +be allowed to enter the country.</p> + +<p>All their dreams and hopes finally dissipated, and there remained only +one black care, one all-obscuring anxiety: how were they to earn a +living?</p> + +<p>They had been hoping all the while for a pension, but in their service +book was written "on sick-leave." The Russo-Japanese war was +distinguished by the fact<a name="page_256" id="page_256"></a> that the greater number of wounded soldiers +went home "on sick-leave," and the money assigned by the Government for +their pension would not have been sufficient for even a hundredth part +of the number of invalids.</p> + +<p>Maxim showed a face with two wide open eyes, to which all the passers-by +looked the same. He distinguished with difficulty between a man and a +telegraph post, and wore a smile of mingled apprehension and confidence. +The sound feet stepped hesitatingly, keeping behind Israel, and it was +hard to say which steadied himself most against the other. Struli limped +forward, and kept open eyes for two. Sometimes he would look round at +the box on Maxim's shoulders, as though he felt its weight as much as +Maxim.</p> + +<p>Meantime the railway carriages had emptied and refilled, and the +locomotive gave a great blast, received an answer from somewhere a long +way off, a whistle for a whistle, and the train set off, slowly at +first, and then gradually faster and faster, till all that remained of +it were puffs of smoke hanging in the air without rhyme or reason.</p> + +<p>The two felt more depressed than ever. "Something to eat? Where are we +to get a bite?" was in their minds.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Yisroel remembered with a start: this was the anniversary of +his mother's death—if he could only say one Kaddish for her in a Klaus!</p> + +<p>"Is it far from here to a Klaus?" he inquired of a passer-by.</p> + +<p>"There is one a little way down that side-street," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Maxim!" he begged of the other, "come with me!"</p> + +<p>"Where to?"<a name="page_257" id="page_257"></a></p> + +<p>"To the synagogue."</p> + +<p>Maxim shuddered from head to foot. His fear of a Jewish Shool had not +left him, and a thousand foolish terrors darted through his head.</p> + +<p>But his comrade's voice was so gentle, so childishly imploring, that he +could not resist it, and he agreed to go with him into the Shool.</p> + +<p>It was the time for Afternoon Prayer, the daylight and the dark held +equal sway within the Klaus, the lamps before the platform increasing +the former to the east and the latter to the west. Maxim and Yisroel +stood in the western part, enveloped in shadow. The Cantor had just +finished "Incense," and was entering upon Ashré, and the melancholy +night chant of Minchah and Maariv gradually entranced Maxim's emotional +Roumanian heart.</p> + +<p>The low, sad murmur of the Cantor seemed to him like the distant surging +of a sea, in which men were drowned by the hundreds and suffocating with +the water. Then, the Ashré and the Kaddish ended, there was silence. The +congregation stood up for the Eighteen Benedictions. Here and there you +heard a half-stifled sigh. And now it seemed to Maxim that he was in the +hospital at night, at the hour when the groans grow less frequent, and +the sufferers fall one by one into a sweet sleep.</p> + +<p>Tears started into his eyes without his knowing why. He was no longer +afraid, but a sudden shyness had come over him, and he felt, as he +watched Yisroel repeating the Kaddish, that the words, which he, Maxim, +could not understand, were being addressed to someone<a name="page_258" id="page_258"></a> unseen, and yet +mysteriously present in the darkening Shool.</p> + +<p>When the prayers were ended, one of the chief members of the +congregation approached the "Mandchurian," and gave Yisroel a coin into +his hand.</p> + +<p>Yisroel looked round—he did not understand at first what the donor +meant by it.</p> + +<p>Then it occurred to him—and the blood rushed to his face. He gave the +coin to his companion, and explained in a half-sentence or two how they +had come by it.</p> + +<p>Once outside the Klaus, they both cried, after which they felt better.</p> + +<p>"A livelihood!" the same thought struck them both.</p> + +<p>"We can go into partnership!"<a name="page_259" id="page_259"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="AT_THE_MATZES" id="AT_THE_MATZES"></a>AT THE MATZES</h3> + +<p>It was quite early in the morning, when Sossye, the scribe's daughter, a +girl of seventeen, awoke laughing; a sunbeam had broken through the +rusty window, made its way to her underneath the counterpane, and there +opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>It woke her out of a deep dream which she was ashamed to recall, but the +dream came back to her of itself, and made her laugh.</p> + +<p>Had she known whom she was going to meet in her dreams, she would have +lain down in her clothes, occurs to her, and she laughs aloud.</p> + +<p>"Got up laughing!" scolds her mother. "There's a piece of good luck for +you! It's a sign of a black year for her (may it be to my enemies!)."</p> + +<p>Sossye proceeds to dress herself. She does not want to fall out with her +mother to-day, she wants to be on good terms with everyone.</p> + +<p>In the middle of dressing she loses herself in thought, with one naked +foot stretched out and an open stocking in her hands, wondering how the +dream would have ended, if she had not awoke so soon.</p> + +<p>Chayyimel, a villager's son, who boards with her mother, passes the open +doors leading to Sossye's room, and for the moment he is riveted to the +spot. His eyes dance, the blood rushes to his cheeks, he gets all he can +by looking, and then hurries away to Cheder without his breakfast, to +study the Song of Songs.<a name="page_260" id="page_260"></a></p> + +<p>And Sossye, fresh and rosy from sleep, her brown eyes glowing under the +tumbled gold locks, betakes herself to the kitchen, where her mother, +with her usual worried look, is blowing her soul out before the oven +into a smoky fire of damp wood.</p> + +<p>"Look at the girl standing round like a fool! Run down to the cellar, +and fetch me an onion and some potatoes!"</p> + +<p>Sossye went down to the cellar, and found the onions and potatoes +sprouting.</p> + +<p>At sight of a green leaf, her heart leapt. Greenery! greenery! summer is +coming! And the whole of her dream came back to her!</p> + +<p>"Look, mother, green sprouts!" she cried, rushing into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"A thousand bad dreams on your head! The onions are spoilt, and she +laughs! My enemies' eyes will creep out of their lids before there will +be fresh greens to eat, and all this, woe is me, is only fit to throw +away!"</p> + +<p>"Greenery, greenery!" thought Sossye, "summer is coming!"</p> + +<p>Greenery had got into her head, and there it remained, and from greenery +she went on to remember that to-day was the first Passover-cake baking +at Gedalyeh the baker's, and that Shloimeh Shieber would be at work +there.</p> + +<p>Having begged of her mother the one pair of boots that stood about in +the room and fitted everyone, she put them on, and was off to the +Matzes.</p> + +<p>It was, as we have said, the first day's work at Gedalyeh the baker's, +and the sack of Passover flour had<a name="page_261" id="page_261"></a> just been opened. Gravely, the +flour-boy, a two weeks' orphan, carried the pot of flour for the +Mehereh, and poured it out together with remembrances of his mother, who +had died in the hospital of injuries received at <i>their</i> hands, and the +water-boy came up behind him, and added recollections of his own.</p> + +<p>"The hooligans threw his father into the water off the bridge—may they +pay for it, süsser Gott! May they live till he is a man, and can settle +his account with them!"</p> + +<p>Thus the grey-headed old Henoch, the kneader, and he kneaded it all into +the dough, with thoughts of his own grandchildren: this one fled abroad, +the other in the regiment, and a third in prison.</p> + +<p>The dough stiffens, the horny old hands work it with difficulty. The +dough gets stiffer every year, and the work harder, it is time for him +to go to the asylum!</p> + +<p>The dough is kneaded, cut up in pieces, rolled and riddled—is that a +token for the whole Congregation of Israel? And now appear the round +Matzes, which must wander on a shovel into the heated oven of Shloimeh +Shieber, first into one corner, and then into another, till another +shovel throws them out into a new world, separated from the old by a +screen thoroughly scoured for Passover, which now rises and now falls. +There they are arranged in columns, a reminder of Pithom and Rameses. +Kuk-ruk, kuk-ruk, ruk-ruk, whisper the still warm Matzes one to another; +they also are remembering, and they tell the tale of the Exodus after +their fashion, the tale of the flight out of Egypt—only they have seen +more flights than one.<a name="page_262" id="page_262"></a></p> + +<p>Thus are the Matzes kneaded and baked by the Jews, with "thoughts." The +Gentiles call them "blood," and assert that Jews need blood for their +Matzes, and they take the trouble to supply us with fresh "thoughts" +every year!</p> + +<p>But at Gedalyeh the baker's all is still cheerfulness. Girls and boys, +in their unspent vigor, surround the tables, there is rolling and +riddling and cleaning of clean rolling-pins with pieces of broken glass +(from where ever do Jews get so much broken glass?), and the whole town +is provided with kosher Matzes. Jokes and silver trills escape the +lively young workers, the company is as merry as though the Exodus were +to-morrow.</p> + +<p>But it won't be to-morrow. Look at them well, because another day you +will not find them so merry, they will not seem like the same.</p> + +<p>One of the likely lads has left his place, and suddenly appeared at a +table beside a pretty, curly-haired girl. He has hurried over his +Matzes, and now he wants to help her.</p> + +<p>She thanks him for his attention with a rolling-pin over the fingers, +and there is such laughter among the spectators that Berke, the old +overseer, exclaims, "What impertinence!"</p> + +<p>But he cannot finish, because he has to laugh himself. There is a spark +in the embers of his being which the girlish merriment around him +kindles anew.</p> + +<p>And the other lads are jealous of the beaten one. They know very well +that no girl would hit a complete<a name="page_263" id="page_263"></a> stranger, and that the blow only +meant, "Impudent boy, why need the world know of anything between us?"</p> + +<p>Shloimehle Shieber, armed with the shovels, stands still for a minute +trying to distinguish Sossye's voice in the peals of laughter. The +Matzes under his care are browning in the oven.</p> + +<p>And Sossye takes it into her head to make her Matzes with one pointed +corner, so that he may perhaps know them for hers, and laughs to herself +as she does so.</p> + +<p>There is one table to the side of the room which was not there last +year; it was placed there for the formerly well-to-do housemistresses, +who last year, when they came to bake their Matzes, gave Yom-tov money +to the others. Here all goes on quietly; the laughter of the merry +people breaks against the silence, and is swallowed up.</p> + +<p>The work grows continually pleasanter and more animated. The riddler +stamps two or three Matzes with hieroglyphs at once, in order to show +off. Shloimeh at the oven cannot keep pace with him, and grows angry:</p> + +<p>"May all bad...."</p> + +<p>The wish is cut short in his mouth, he has caught a glance of Sossye's +through the door of the baking-room, he answers with two, gets three +back, Sossye pursing her lips to signify a kiss. Shloimeh folds his +hands, which also means something.</p> + +<p>Meantime ten Matzes get scorched, and one of Sossye's is pulled in two. +"Brennen brennt mir mein Harz," starts a worker singing in a plaintive +key.</p> + +<p>"Come! hush, hush!" scolds old Berke. "Songs, indeed! What next, you +impudent boy?"<a name="page_264" id="page_264"></a></p> + +<p>"My sorrows be on their head!" sighs a neighbor of Sossye's. "They'd +soon be tired of their life, if they were me. I've left two children at +home fit to scream their hearts out. The other is at the breast, I have +brought it along. It is quiet just now, by good luck."</p> + +<p>"What is the use of a poor woman's having children?" exclaims another, +evidently "expecting" herself. Indeed, she has a child a year—and a +seven-days' mourning a year afterwards.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose I ask for them? Do you think I cry my eyes out for them +before God?"</p> + +<p>"If she hasn't any, who's to inherit her place at the Matzes-baking—a +hundred years hence?"</p> + +<p>"All very well for you to talk, <i>you're</i> a grass-widow (to no Jewish +daughter may it apply!)!"</p> + +<p>"May such a blow be to my enemies as he'll surely come back again!"</p> + +<p>"It's about time! After three years!"</p> + +<p>"Will you shut up, or do you want another beating?"</p> + +<p>Sossye went off into a fresh peal of laughter, and the shovel fell out +of Shloimeh's hand.</p> + +<p>Again he caught a glance, but this time she wrinkled her nose at him, as +much as to say, "Fie, you shameless boy! Can't you behave yourself even +before other people?"</p> + +<p>Hereupon the infant gave account of itself in a small, shrill voice, and +the general commotion went on increasing. The overseer scolded, the +Matzes-printing-wheel creaked and squeaked, the bits of glass were +ground against the rolling-pins, there was a humming of songs and a +proclaiming of secrets, followed by bursts of laughter, Sossye's voice +ringing high above the rest.<a name="page_265" id="page_265"></a></p> + +<p>And the sun shone into the room through the small window—a white spot +jumped around and kissed everyone there.</p> + +<p>Is it the Spirit of Israel delighting in her young men and maidens and +whispering in their ears: "What if it <i>is</i> Matzes-kneading, and what if +it <i>is</i> Exile? Only let us be all together, only let us all be merry!"</p> + +<p>Or is it the Spring, transformed into a white patch of sunshine, in +which all have equal share, and which has not forgotten to bring good +news into the house of Gedalyeh the Matzeh-baker?</p> + +<p>A beautiful sun was preparing to set, and promised another fine day for +the morrow.</p> + +<p>"Ding-dong, gul-gul-gul-gul-gul-gul!"</p> + +<p>It was the convent bells calling the Christians to confession!</p> + +<p>All tongues were silenced round the tables at Gedalyeh the baker's.</p> + +<p>A streak of vapor dimmed the sun, and gloomy thoughts settled down upon +the hearts of the workers.</p> + +<p>"Easter! <i>Their</i> Easter is coming on!" and mothers' eyes sought their +children.</p> + +<p>The white patch of sunshine suddenly gave a terrified leap across the +ceiling and vanished in a corner.</p> + +<p>"Kik-kik, kik-rik, kik-rik," whispered the hot Matzes. Who is to know +what they say?</p> + +<p>Who can tell, now that the Jews have baked this year's Matzes, how soon +<i>they</i> will set about providing them with material for the +next?—"thoughts," and broken glass for the rolling-pins.</p> + +<p><a name="page_266" id="page_266"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_267" id="page_267"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="DAVID_FRISCHMANN" id="DAVID_FRISCHMANN"></a>DAVID FRISCHMANN</h3> + +<p>Born, 1863, in Lodz, Russian Poland, of a family of merchants; +education, Jewish and secular, the latter with special attention to +foreign languages and literatures; has spent most of his life in Warsaw; +Hebrew critic, editor, poet, satirist, and writer of fairy tales; +translator of George Eliot's Daniel Deronda into Hebrew; contributor to +Sholom-Alechem's Jüdische Volksbibliothek, Spektor's Hausfreund, and +various periodicals; editor of monthly publication Reshafim; collected +works in Hebrew, Ketabim Nibharim, 2 vols., Warsaw, 1899-1901, and +Reshimot, 4 parts, Warsaw, 1911.</p> + +<p><a name="page_268" id="page_268"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_269" id="page_269"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THREE_WHO_ATE" id="THREE_WHO_ATE"></a>THREE WHO ATE</h3> + +<p>Once upon a time three people ate. I recall the event as one recalls a +dream. Black clouds obscure the men, because it happened long ago.</p> + +<p>Only sometimes it seems to me that there are no clouds, but a pillar of +fire lighting up the men and their doings, and the fire grows bigger and +brighter, and gives light and warmth to this day.</p> + +<p>I have only a few words to tell you, two or three words: once upon a +time three people ate. Not on a workday or an ordinary Sabbath, but on a +Day of Atonement that fell on a Sabbath.</p> + +<p>Not in a corner where no one sees or hears, but before all the people in +the great Shool, in the principal Shool of the town.</p> + +<p>Neither were they ordinary men, these three, but the chief Jews of the +community: the Rabbi and his two Dayonim.</p> + +<p>The townsfolk looked up to them as if they had been angels, and +certainly held them to be saints. And now, as I write these words, I +remember how difficult it was for me to understand, and how I sometimes +used to think the Rabbi and his Dayonim had done wrong. But even then I +felt that they were doing a tremendous thing, that they were holy men +with holy instincts, and that it was not easy for them to act thus. Who +knows<a name="page_270" id="page_270"></a> how hard they fought with themselves, who knows how they +suffered, and what they endured?</p> + +<p>And even if I live many years and grow old, I shall never forget the day +and the men, and what was done on it, for they were no ordinary men, but +great heroes.</p> + +<p>Those were bitter times, such as had not been for long, and such as will +not soon return.</p> + +<p>A great calamity had descended on us from Heaven, and had spread abroad +among the towns and over the country: the cholera had broken out.</p> + +<p>The calamity had reached us from a distant land, and entered our little +town, and clutched at young and old.</p> + +<p>By day and by night men died like flies, and those who were left hung +between life and death.</p> + +<p>Who can number the dead who were buried in those days! Who knows the +names of the corpses which lay about in heaps in the streets!</p> + +<p>In the Jewish street the plague made great ravages: there was not a +house where there lay not one dead—not a family in which the calamity +had not broken out.</p> + +<p>In the house where we lived, on the second floor, nine people died in +one day. In the basement there died a mother and four children, and in +the house opposite we heard wild cries one whole night through, and in +the morning we became aware that there was no one left in it alive.</p> + +<p>The grave-diggers worked early and late, and the corpses lay about in +the streets like dung. They stuck one to the other like clay, and one +walked over dead bodies.<a name="page_271" id="page_271"></a></p> + +<p>The summer broke up, and there came the Solemn Days, and then the most +dreadful day of all—the Day of Atonement.</p> + +<p>I shall remember that day as long as I live.</p> + +<p>The Eve of the Day of Atonement—the reciting of Kol Nidré!</p> + +<p>At the desk before the ark there stands, not as usual the precentor and +two householders, but the Rabbi and his two Dayonim.</p> + +<p>The candles are burning all round, and there is a whispering of the +flames as they grow taller and taller. The people stand at their +reading-desks with grave faces, and draw on the robes and prayer-scarfs, +the Spanish hoods and silver girdles; and their shadows sway this way +and that along the walls, and might be the ghosts of the dead who died +to-day and yesterday and the day before yesterday. Evidently they could +not rest in their graves, and have also come into the Shool.</p> + +<p>Hush!... the Rabbi has begun to say something, and the Dayonim, too, and +a groan rises from the congregation.</p> + +<p>"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed."</p> + +<p>And a great fear fell upon me and upon all the people, young and old. In +that same moment I saw the Rabbi mount the platform. Is he going to +preach? Is he going to lecture the people at a time when they are +falling dead like flies? But the Rabbi neither preached nor lectured. He +only called to remembrance the souls<a name="page_272" id="page_272"></a> of those who had died in the +course of the last few days. But how long it lasted! How many names he +mentioned! The minutes fly one after the other, and the Rabbi has not +finished! Will the list of souls never come to an end? Never? And it +seems to me the Rabbi had better call out the names of those who are +left alive, because they are few, instead of the names of the dead, who +are without number and without end.</p> + +<p>I shall never forget that night and the praying, because it was not +really praying, but one long, loud groan rising from the depth of the +human heart, cleaving the sky and reaching to Heaven. Never since the +world began have Jews prayed in greater anguish of soul, never have +hotter tears fallen from human eyes.</p> + +<p><i>That</i> night no one left the Shool.</p> + +<p>After the prayers they recited the Hymn of Unity, and after that the +Psalms, and then chapters from the Mishnah, and then ethical books....</p> + +<p>And I also stand among the congregation and pray, and my eyelids are +heavy as lead, and my heart beats like a hammer.</p> + +<p>"U-Malochim yechofézun—and the angels fly around."</p> + +<p>And I fancy I see them flying in the Shool, up and down, up and down. +And among them I see the bad angel with the thousand eyes, full of eyes +from head to feet.</p> + +<p>That night no one left the Shool, but early in the morning there were +some missing—two of the congregation had fallen during the night, and +died before our eyes, and lay wrapped in their prayer-scarfs and white<a name="page_273" id="page_273"></a> +robes—nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead.</p> + +<p>They kept on bringing messages into the Shool from the Gass, but nobody +wanted to listen or to ask questions, lest he should hear what had +happened in his own house. No matter how long I live, I shall never +forget that night, and all I saw and heard.</p> + +<p>But the Day of Atonement, the day that followed, was more awful still.</p> + +<p>And even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole picture, and I think +I am standing once more among the people in the Shool.</p> + +<p>It is Atonement Day in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi stands on the platform in the centre of the Shool, tall and +venerable, and there is a fascination in his noble features. And there, +in the corner of the Shool, stands a boy who never takes his eyes off +the Rabbi's face.</p> + +<p>In truth I never saw a nobler figure.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi is old, seventy or perhaps eighty years, but tall and straight +as a fir-tree. His long beard is white like silver, but the thick, long +hair of his head is whiter still, and his face is blanched, and his lips +are pale, and only his large black eyes shine and sparkle like the eyes +of a young lion.</p> + +<p>I stood in awe of him when I was a little child. I knew he was a man of +God, one of the greatest authorities in the Law, whose advice was sought +by the whole world.</p> + +<p>I knew also that he inclined to leniency in all his decisions, and that +none dared oppose him.<a name="page_274" id="page_274"></a></p> + +<p>The sight I saw that day in Shool is before my eyes now.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi stands on the platform, and his black eyes gleam and shine in +the pale face and in the white hair and beard.</p> + +<p>The Additional Service is over, and the people are waiting to hear what +the Rabbi will say, and one is afraid to draw one's breath.</p> + +<p>And the Rabbi begins to speak.</p> + +<p>His weak voice grows stronger and higher every minute, and at last it is +quite loud.</p> + +<p>He speaks of the sanctity of the Day of Atonement and of the holy Torah; +of repentance and of prayer, of the living and of the dead, and of the +pestilence that has broken out and that destroys without pity, without +rest, without a pause—for how long? for how much longer?</p> + +<p>And by degrees his pale cheeks redden and his lips also, and I hear him +say: "And when trouble comes to a man, he must look to his deeds, and +not only to those which concern him and the Almighty, but to those which +concern himself, to his body, to his flesh, to his own health."</p> + +<p>I was a child then, but I remember how I began to tremble when I heard +these words, because I had understood.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi goes on speaking. He speaks of cleanliness and wholesome air, +of dirt, which is dangerous to man, and of hunger and thirst, which are +men's bad angels when there is a pestilence about, devouring without +pity.</p> + +<p>And the Rabbi goes on to say:<a name="page_275" id="page_275"></a></p> + +<p>"And men shall live by My commandments, and not die by them. There are +times when one must turn aside from the Law, if by so doing a whole +community may be saved."</p> + +<p>I stand shaking with fear. What does the Rabbi want? What does he mean +by his words? What does he think to accomplish? And suddenly I see that +he is weeping, and my heart beats louder and louder. What has happened? +Why does he weep? And there I stand in the corner, in the silence, and I +also begin to cry.</p> + +<p>And to this day, if I shut my eyes, I see him standing on the platform, +and he makes a sign with his hand to the two Dayonim to the left and +right of him. He and they whisper together, and he says something in +their ear. What has happened? Why does his cheek flame, and why are +theirs as white as chalk?</p> + +<p>And suddenly I hear them talking, but I cannot understand them, because +the words do not enter my brain. And yet all three are speaking so +sharply and clearly!</p> + +<p>And all the people utter a groan, and after the groan I hear the words, +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to eat and drink on the Day of Atonement."</p> + +<p>Silence. Not a sound is heard in the Shool, not an eyelid quivers, not a +breath is drawn.</p> + +<p>And I stand in my corner and hear my heart beating: one—two—one—two. +A terror comes over me, and it is black before my eyes. The shadows move +to and fro on the wall, and amongst the shadows I see the dead who died +yesterday and the day before yesterday and the<a name="page_276" id="page_276"></a> day before the day +before yesterday—a whole people, a great assembly.</p> + +<p>And suddenly I grasp what it is the Rabbi asks of us. The Rabbi calls on +us to eat, to-day! The Rabbi calls on Jews to eat on the Day of +Atonement—not to fast, because of the cholera—because of the +cholera—because of the cholera ... and I begin to cry loudly. And it is +not only I—the whole congregation stands weeping, and the Dayonim on +the platform weep, and the greatest of all stands there sobbing like a +child.</p> + +<p>And he implores like a child, and his words are soft and gentle, and +every now and then he weeps so that his voice cannot be heard.</p> + +<p>"Eat, Jews, eat! To-day we must eat. This is a time to turn aside from +the Law. We are to live through the commandments, and not die through +them!"</p> + +<p>But no one in the Shool has stirred from his place, and there he stands +and begs of them, weeping, and declares that he takes the whole +responsibility on himself, that the people shall be innocent. But no one +stirs. And presently he begins again in a changed voice—he does not +beg, he commands:</p> + +<p>"I give you leave to eat—I—I—I!"</p> + +<p>And his words are like arrows shot from the bow.</p> + +<p>But the people are deaf, and no one stirs.</p> + +<p>Then he begins again with his former voice, and implores like a child:</p> + +<p>"What would you have of me? Why will you torment me till my strength +fails? Think you I have not struggled with myself from early this +morning till now?"</p> + +<p>And the Dayonim also plead with the people.<a name="page_277" id="page_277"></a></p> + +<p>And of a sudden the Rabbi grows as white as chalk, and lets his head +fall on his breast. There is a groan from one end of the Shool to the +other, and after the groan the people are heard to murmur among +themselves.</p> + +<p>Then the Rabbi, like one speaking to himself, says:</p> + +<p>"It is God's will. I am eighty years old, and have never yet +transgressed a law. But this is also a law, it is a precept. Doubtless +the Almighty wills it so! Beadle!"</p> + +<p>The beadle comes, and the Rabbi whispers a few words into his ear.</p> + +<p>He also confers with the Dayonim, and they nod their heads and agree.</p> + +<p>And the beadle brings cups of wine for Sanctification, out of the +Rabbi's chamber, and little rolls of bread. And though I should live +many years and grow very old, I shall never forget what I saw then, and +even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole thing: three Rabbis +standing on the platform in Shool, and eating before the whole people, +on the Day of Atonement!</p> + +<p>The three belong to the heroes.</p> + +<p>Who shall tell how they fought with themselves, who shall say how they +suffered, and what they endured?</p> + +<p>"I have done what you wished," says the Rabbi, and his voice does not +shake, and his lips do not tremble.</p> + +<p>"God's Name be praised!"</p> + +<p>And all the Jews ate that day, they ate and wept.</p> + +<p>Rays of light beam forth from the remembrance, and spread all around, +and reach the table at which I sit and write these words.<a name="page_278" id="page_278"></a></p> + +<p>Once again: three people ate.</p> + +<p>At the moment when the awesome scene in the Shool is before me, there +are three Jews sitting in a room opposite the Shool, and they also are +eating.</p> + +<p>They are the three "enlightened" ones of the place: the tax-collector, +the inspector, and the teacher.</p> + +<p>The window is wide open, so that all may see; on the table stands a +samovar, glasses of red wine, and eatables. And the three sit with +playing-cards in their hands, playing Preference, and they laugh and eat +and drink.</p> + +<p>Do they also belong to the heroes?<a name="page_279" id="page_279"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="MICHA_JOSEPH_BERDYCZEWSKI" id="MICHA_JOSEPH_BERDYCZEWSKI"></a>MICHA JOSEPH BERDYCZEWSKI</h3> + +<p>Born, 1865, in Berschad, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; educated in +Yeshibah of Volozhin; studied also modern literatures in his youth; has +been living alternately in Berlin and Breslau; Hebrew, Yiddish, and +German writer, on philosophy, æsthetics, and Jewish literary, spiritual, +and timely questions; contributor to Hebrew periodicals; editor of +Bet-Midrash, supplement to Bet-Ozar ha-Sifrut; contributed Ueber den +Zusammenhang zwischen Ethik und Aesthetik to Berner Studien zur +Philosophie und ihrer Geschichte; author of two novels, Mibayit u-Mihuz, +and Mahanaim; a book on the Hasidim, Warsaw, 1900; Jüdische Ketobim vun +a weiten Korov, Warsaw; Hebrew essays on miscellaneous subjects, eleven +parts, Warsaw and Breslau (in course of publication).</p> + +<p><a name="page_280" id="page_280"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_281" id="page_281"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="MILITARY_SERVICE" id="MILITARY_SERVICE"></a>MILITARY SERVICE</h3> + +<p>"They look as if they'd enough of me!"</p> + +<p>So I think to myself, as I give a glance at my two great top-boots, my +wide trousers, and my shabby green uniform, in which there is no whole +part left.</p> + +<p>I take a bit of looking-glass out of my box, and look at my reflection. +Yes, the military cap on my head is a beauty, and no mistake, as big as +Og king of Bashan, and as bent and crushed as though it had been sat +upon for years together.</p> + +<p>Under the cap appears a small, washed-out face, yellow and weazened, +with two large black eyes that look at me somewhat wildly.</p> + +<p>I don't recognize myself; I remember me in a grey jacket, narrow, +close-fitting trousers, a round hat, and a healthy complexion.</p> + +<p>I can't make out where I got those big eyes, why they shine so, why my +face should be yellow, and my nose, pointed.</p> + +<p>And yet I know that it is I myself, Chayyim Blumin, and no other; that I +have been handed over for a soldier, and have to serve only two years +and eight months, and not three years and eight months, because I have a +certificate to the effect that I have been through the first four +classes in a secondary school.</p> + +<p>Though I know quite well that I am to serve only two years and eight +months, I feel the same as though it were to be forever; I can't, +somehow, believe that<a name="page_282" id="page_282"></a> my time will some day expire, and I shall once +more be free.</p> + +<p>I have tried from the very beginning not to play any tricks, to do my +duty and obey orders, so that they should not say, "A Jew won't work—a +Jew is too lazy."</p> + +<p>Even though I am let off manual labor, because I am on "privileged +rights," still, if they tell me to go and clean the windows, or polish +the flooring with sand, or clear away the snow from the door, I make no +fuss and go. I wash and clean and polish, and try to do the work well, +so that they should find no fault with me.</p> + +<p>They haven't yet ordered me to carry pails of water.</p> + +<p>Why should I not confess it? The idea of having to do that rather +frightens me. When I look at the vessel in which the water is carried, +my heart begins to flutter: the vessel is almost as big as I am, and I +couldn't lift it even if it were empty.</p> + +<p>I often think: What shall I do, if to-morrow, or the day after, they +wake me at three o'clock in the morning and say coolly:</p> + +<p>"Get up, Blumin, and go with Ossadtchok to fetch a pail of water!"</p> + +<p>You ought to see my neighbor Ossadtchok! He looks as if he could squash +me with one finger. It is as easy for him to carry a pail of water as to +drink a glass of brandy. How can I compare myself with him?</p> + +<p>I don't care if it makes my shoulder swell, if I could only carry the +thing. I shouldn't mind about that. But God in Heaven knows the truth, +that I won't be able to lift the pail off the ground, only they won't +believe me, they will say:<a name="page_283" id="page_283"></a></p> + +<p>"Look at the lazy Jew, pretending he is a poor creature that can't lift +a pail!"</p> + +<p>There—I mind that more than anything.</p> + +<p>I don't suppose they <i>will</i> send me to fetch water, for, after all, I am +on "privileged rights," but I can't sleep in peace: I dream all night +that they are waking me at three o'clock, and I start up bathed in a +cold sweat.</p> + +<p>Drill does not begin before eight in the morning, but they wake us at +six, so that we may have time to clean our rifles, polish our boots and +leather girdle, brush our coat, and furbish the brass buttons with +chalk, so that they should shine like mirrors.</p> + +<p>I don't mind the getting up early, I am used to rising long before +daylight, but I am always worrying lest something shouldn't be properly +cleaned, and they should say that a Jew is so lazy, he doesn't care if +his things are clean or not, that he's afraid of touching his rifle, and +pay me other compliments of the kind.</p> + +<p>I clean and polish and rub everything all I know, but my rifle always +seems in worse condition than the other men's. I can't make it look the +same as theirs, do what I will, and the head of my division, a corporal, +shouts at me, calls me a greasy fellow, and says he'll have me up before +the authorities because I don't take care of my arms.</p> + +<p>But there is worse than the rifle, and that is the uniform. Mine is +<i>years</i> old—I am sure it is older than I am. Every day little pieces +fall out of it, and the buttons tear themselves out of the cloth, +dragging bits of it after them.<a name="page_284" id="page_284"></a></p> + +<p>I never had a needle in my hand in all my life before, and now I sit +whole nights and patch and sew on buttons. And next morning, when the +corporal takes hold of a button and gives a pull, to see if it's firmly +sewn, a pang goes through my heart: the button is dragged out, and a +piece of the uniform follows.</p> + +<p>Another whole night's work for me!</p> + +<p>After the inspection, they drive us out into the yard and teach us to +stand: it must be done so that our stomachs fall in and our chests stick +out. I am half as one ought to be, because my stomach is flat enough +anyhow, only my chest is weak and narrow and also flat—flat as a board.</p> + +<p>The corporal squeezes in my stomach with his knee, pulls me forward by +the flaps of the coat, but it's no use. He loses his temper, and calls +me greasy fellow, screams again that I am pretending, that I <i>won't</i> +serve, and this makes my chest fall in more than ever.</p> + +<p>I like the gymnastics.</p> + +<p>In summer we go out early into the yard, which is very wide and covered +with thick grass.</p> + +<p>It smells delightfully, the sun warms us through, it feels so pleasant.</p> + +<p>The breeze blows from the fields, I open my mouth and swallow the +freshness, and however much I swallow, it's not enough, I should like to +take in all the air there is. Then, perhaps, I should cough less, and +grow a little stronger.</p> + +<p>We throw off the old uniforms, and remain in our shirts, we run and leap +and go through all sorts of performances<a name="page_285" id="page_285"></a> with our hands and feet, and +it's splendid! At home I never had so much as an idea of such fun.</p> + +<p>At first I was very much afraid of jumping across the ditch, but I +resolved once and for all—I've <i>got</i> to jump it. If the worst comes to +the worst, I shall fall and bruise myself. Suppose I do? What then? Why +do all the others jump it and don't care? One needn't be so very strong +to jump!</p> + +<p>And one day, before the gymnastics had begun, I left my comrades, took +heart and a long run, and when I came to the ditch, I made a great +bound, and, lo and behold, I was over on the other side! I couldn't +believe my own eyes that I had done it so easily.</p> + +<p>Ever since then I have jumped across ditches, and over mounds, and down +from mounds, as well as any of them.</p> + +<p>Only when it comes to climbing a ladder or swinging myself over a high +bar, I know it spells misfortune for me.</p> + +<p>I spring forward, and seize the first rung with my right hand, but I +cannot reach the second with my left.</p> + +<p>I stretch myself, and kick out with my feet, but I cannot reach any +higher, not by so much as a vershok, and so there I hang and kick with +my feet, till my right arm begins to tremble and hurt me. My head goes +round, and I fall onto the grass. The corporal abuses me as usual, and +the soldiers laugh.</p> + +<p>I would give ten years of my life to be able to get higher, if only +three or four rungs, but what can I do, if my arms won't serve me?<a name="page_286" id="page_286"></a></p> + +<p>Sometimes I go out to the ladder by myself, while the soldiers are still +asleep, and stand and look at it: perhaps I can think of a way to +manage? But in vain. Thinking, you see, doesn't help you in these cases.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they tell one of the soldiers to stand in the middle of the +yard with his back to us, and we have to hop over him. He bends down a +little, lowers his head, rests his hands on his knees, and we hop over +him one at a time. One takes a good run, and when one comes to him, one +places both hands on his shoulders, raises oneself into the air, +and—over!</p> + +<p>I know exactly how it ought to be done; I take the run all right, and +plant my hands on his shoulders, only I can't raise myself into the air. +And if I do lift myself up a little way, I remain sitting on the +soldier's neck, and were it not for his seizing me by the feet, I should +fall, and perhaps kill myself.</p> + +<p>Then the corporal and another soldier take hold of me by the arms and +legs, and throw me over the man's head, so that I may see there is +nothing dreadful about it, as though I did not jump right over him +because I was afraid, while it is that my arms are so weak, I cannot +lean upon them and raise myself into the air.</p> + +<p>But when I say so, they only laugh, and don't believe me. They say, "It +won't help you; you will have to serve anyhow!"</p> + +<p class="top5">When, on the other hand, it comes to "theory," the corporal is very +pleased with me.</p> + +<p>He says that except himself no one knows "theory" as I do.<a name="page_287" id="page_287"></a></p> + +<p>He never questions me now, only when one of the others doesn't know +something, he turns to me:</p> + +<p>"Well, Blumin, <i>you</i> tell me!"</p> + +<p>I stand up without hurrying, and am about to answer, but he is +apparently not pleased with my way of rising from my seat, and orders me +to sit down again.</p> + +<p>"When your superior speaks to you," says he, "you ought to jump up as +though the seat were hot," and he looks at me angrily, as much as to +say, "You may know theory, but you'll please to know your manners as +well, and treat me with proper respect."</p> + +<p>"Stand up again and answer!"</p> + +<p>I start up as though I felt a prick from a needle, and answer the +question as he likes it done: smartly, all in one breath, and word for +word according to the book.</p> + +<p>He, meanwhile, looks at the primer, to make sure I am not leaving +anything out, but as he reads very slowly, he cannot catch me up, and +when I have got to the end, he is still following with his finger and +reading. And when he has finished, he gives me a pleased look, and says +enthusiastically "Right!" and tells me to sit down again.</p> + +<p>"Theory," he says, "that you <i>do</i> know!"</p> + +<p>Well, begging his pardon, it isn't much to know. And yet there are +soldiers who are four years over it, and don't know it then. For +instance, take my comrade Ossadtchok; he says that, when it comes to +"theory", he would rather go and hang or drown himself. He says, he +would rather have to carry three pails of water than sit down to +"theory."<a name="page_288" id="page_288"></a></p> + +<p>I tell him, that if he would learn to read, he could study the whole +thing by himself in a week; but he won't listen.</p> + +<p>"Nobody," he says, "will ever ask <i>my</i> advice."</p> + +<p>One thing always alarmed me very much: However was I to take part in the +manœuvres?</p> + +<p>I cannot lift a single pud (I myself only weigh two pud and thirty +pounds), and if I walk three versts, my feet hurt, and my heart beats so +violently that I think it's going to burst my side.</p> + +<p>At the manœuvres I should have to carry as much as fifty pounds' +weight, and perhaps more: a rifle, a cloak, a knapsack with linen, +boots, a uniform, a tent, bread, and onions, and a few other little +things, and should have to walk perhaps thirty to forty versts a day.</p> + +<p>But when the day and the hour arrived, and the command was given +"Forward, march!" when the band struck up, and two thousand men set +their feet in motion, something seemed to draw me forward, and I went. +At the beginning I found it hard, I felt weighted to the earth, my left +shoulder hurt me so, I nearly fainted. But afterwards I got very hot, I +began to breathe rapidly and deeply, my eyes were starting out of my +head like two cupping-glasses, and I not only walked, I ran, so as not +to fall behind—and so I ended by marching along with the rest, forty +versts a day.</p> + +<p>Only I did not sing on the march like the others. First, because I did +not feel so very cheerful, and second, because I could not breathe +properly, let alone sing.</p> + +<p>At times I felt burning hot, but immediately afterwards I would grow +light, and the marching was easy,<a name="page_289" id="page_289"></a> I seemed to be carried along rather +than to tread the earth, and it appeared to me as though another were +marching in my place, only that my left shoulder ached, and I was hot.</p> + +<p>I remember that once it rained a whole night long, it came down like a +deluge, our tents were soaked through, and grew heavy. The mud was +thick. At three o'clock in the morning an alarm was sounded, we were +ordered to fold up our tents and take to the road again. So off we went.</p> + +<p>It was dark and slippery. It poured with rain. I was continually +stepping into a puddle, and getting my boot full of water. I shivered +and shook, and my teeth chattered with cold. That is, I was cold one +minute and hot the next. But the marching was no difficulty to me, I +scarcely felt that I was on the march, and thought very little about it. +Indeed, I don't know what I <i>was</i> thinking about, my mind was a blank.</p> + +<p>We marched, turned back, and marched again. Then we halted for half an +hour, and turned back again.</p> + +<p>And this went on a whole night and a whole day.</p> + +<p>Then it turned out that there had been a mistake: it was not we who +ought to have marched, but another regiment, and we ought not to have +moved from the spot. But there was no help for it then.</p> + +<p>It was night. We had eaten nothing all day. The rain poured down, the +mud was ankle-deep, there was no straw on which to pitch our tents, but +we managed somehow. And so the days passed, each like the other. But I +got through the manœuvres, and was none the worse.<a name="page_290" id="page_290"></a></p> + +<p>Now I am already an old soldier; I have hardly another year and a half +to serve—about sixteen months. I only hope I shall not be ill. It seems +I got a bit of a chill at the manœuvres, I cough every morning, and +sometimes I suffer with my feet. I shiver a little at night till I get +warm, and then I am very hot, and I feel very comfortable lying abed. +But I shall probably soon be all right again.</p> + +<p>They say, one may take a rest in the hospital, but I haven't been there +yet, and don't want to go at all, especially now I am feeling better. +The soldiers are sorry for me, and sometimes they do my work, but not +just for love. I get three pounds of bread a day, and don't eat more +than one pound. The rest I give to my comrade Ossadtchok. He eats it +all, and his own as well, and then he could do with some more. In return +for this he often cleans my rifle, and sometimes does other work for me, +when he sees I have no strength left.</p> + +<p>I am also teaching him and a few other soldiers to read and write, and +they are very pleased.</p> + +<p>My corporal also comes to me to be taught, but he never gives me a word +of thanks.</p> + +<p>The superior of the platoon, when he isn't drunk, and is in good humor, +says "you" to me instead of "thou," and sometimes invites me to share +his bed—I can breathe easier there, because there is more air, and I +don't cough so much, either.</p> + +<p>Only it sometimes happens that he comes back from town tipsy, and makes +a great to-do: How do I, a common soldier, come to be sitting on his +bed?<a name="page_291" id="page_291"></a></p> + +<p>He orders me to get up and stand before him "at attention," and declares +he will "have me up" for it.</p> + +<p>When, however, he has sobered down, he turns kind again, and calls me to +him; he likes me to tell him "stories" out of books.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the orderly calls me into the orderly-room, and gives me a +report to draw up, or else a list or a calculation to make. He himself +writes badly, and is very poor at figures.</p> + +<p>I do everything he wants, and he is very glad of my help, only it +wouldn't do for him to confess to it, and when I have finished, he +always says to me:</p> + +<p>"If the commanding officer is not satisfied, he will send you to fetch +water."</p> + +<p>I know it isn't true, first, because the commanding officer mustn't know +that I write in the orderly-room, a Jew can't be an army secretary; +secondly, because he is certain to be satisfied: he once gave me a note +to write himself, and was very pleased with it.</p> + +<p>"If you were not a Jew," he said to me then, "I should make a corporal +of you."</p> + +<p>Still, my corporal always repeats his threat about the water, so that I +may preserve a proper respect for him, although I not only respect him, +I tremble before his size. When <i>he</i> comes back tipsy from town, and +finds me in the orderly-room, he commands me to drag his muddy boots off +his feet, and I obey him and drag off his boots.</p> + +<p>Sometimes I don't care, and other times it hurts my feelings.</p> + +<p><a name="page_292" id="page_292"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_293" id="page_293"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ISAIAH_BERSCHADSKI" id="ISAIAH_BERSCHADSKI"></a>ISAIAH BERSCHADSKI</h3> + +<p>Pen name of Isaiah Domaschewitski; born, 1871, near Derechin, Government +of Grodno (Lithuania), White Russia; died, 1909, in Warsaw; education, +Jewish and secular; teacher of Hebrew in Ekaterinoslav, Southern Russia; +in business, in Ekaterinoslav and Baku; editor, in 1903, of Ha-Zeman, +first in St. Petersburg, then in Wilna; after a short sojourn in Riga +removed to Warsaw; writer of novels and short stories, almost +exclusively in Hebrew; contributor to Ha-Meliz, Ha-Shiloah, and other +periodicals; pen names besides Berschadski: Berschadi, and Shimoni; +collected works in Hebrew, Tefusim u-Zelalim, Warsaw, 1899, and Ketabim +Aharonim, Warsaw, 1909.</p> + +<p><a name="page_294" id="page_294"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_295" id="page_295"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="FORLORN_AND_FORSAKEN" id="FORLORN_AND_FORSAKEN"></a>FORLORN AND FORSAKEN</h3> + +<p>Forlorn and forsaken she was in her last years. Even when she lay on the +bed of sickness where she died, not one of her relations or friends came +to look after her; they did not even come to mourn for her or accompany +her to the grave. There was not even one of her kin to say the first +Kaddish over her resting-place. My wife and I were the only friends she +had at the close of her life, no one but us cared for her while she was +ill, or walked behind her coffin. The only tears shed at the lonely old +woman's grave were ours. I spoke the only Kaddish for her soul, but we, +after all, were complete strangers to her!</p> + +<p>Yes, we were strangers to her, and she was a stranger to us! We made her +acquaintance only a few years before her death, when she was living in +two tiny rooms opposite the first house we settled in after our +marriage. Nobody ever came to see her, and she herself visited nowhere, +except at the little store where she made her necessary purchases, and +at the house-of-study near by, where she prayed twice every day. She was +about sixty, rather undersized, and very thin, but more lithesome in her +movements than is common at that age. Her face was full of creases and +wrinkles, and her light brown eyes were somewhat dulled, but her ready +smile and quiet glance told of a good heart and a kindly temper. Her +simple old gown was always neat, her wig tastefully arranged, her +lodging and its furniture clean and tidy—and all this attracted us to<a name="page_296" id="page_296"></a> +her from the first day onward. We were still more taken with her +retiring manner, the quiet way in which she kept herself in the +background and the slight melancholy of her expression, telling of a +life that had held much sadness.</p> + +<p>We made advances. She was very willing to become acquainted with us, and +it was not very long before she was like a mother to us, or an old aunt. +My wife was then an inexperienced "housemistress" fresh to her duties, +and found a great help in the old woman, who smilingly taught her how to +proceed with the housekeeping. When our first child was born, she took +it to her heart, and busied herself with its upbringing almost more than +the young mother. It was evident that dandling the child in her arms was +a joy to her beyond words. At such moments her eyes would brighten, her +wrinkles grew faint, a curiously satisfied smile played round her lips, +and a new note of joy came into her voice.</p> + +<p>At first sight all this seemed quite simple, because a woman is +naturally inclined to care for little children, and it may have been so +with her to an exceptional degree, but closer examination convinced me +that here lay yet another reason; her attentions to the child, so it +seemed, awakened pleasant memories of a long-ago past, when she herself +was a young mother caring for children of her own, and looking at this +strange child had stirred a longing for those other children, further +from her eyes, but nearer to her heart, although perhaps quite unknown +to her—who perhaps existed only in her imagination.<a name="page_297" id="page_297"></a></p> + +<p>And when we were made acquainted with the details of her life, we knew +our conjectures to be true. Her history was very simple and commonplace, +but very tragic. Perhaps the tragedy of such biographies lies in their +being so very ordinary and simple!</p> + +<p>She lived quietly and happily with her husband for twenty years after +their marriage. They were not rich, but their little house was a kingdom +of delight, where no good thing was wanting. Their business was farming +land that belonged to a Polish nobleman, a business that knows of good +times and of bad, of fat years and lean years, years of high prices and +years of low. But on the whole it was a good business and profitable, +and it afforded them a comfortable living. Besides, they were used to +the country, they could not fancy themselves anywhere else. The very +thing that had never entered their head is just what happened. In the +beginning of the "eighties" they were obliged to leave the estate they +had farmed for ten years, because the lease was up, and the recently +promulgated "temporary laws" forbade them to renew it. This was bad for +them from a material point of view, because it left them without regular +income just when their children were growing up and expenses had +increased, but their mental distress was so great, that, for the time, +the financial side of the misfortune was thrown into the shade.</p> + +<p>When we made her acquaintance, many years had passed since then, many +another trouble had come into her life, but one could hear tears in her +voice while she told the story of that first misfortune. It was a +bitter<a name="page_298" id="page_298"></a> Tisho-b'ov for them when they left the house, the gardens, the +barns, and the stalls, their whole life, all those things concerning +which they had forgotten, and their children had hardly known, that they +were not their own possession.</p> + +<p>Their town surroundings made them more conscious of their altered +circumstances. She herself, the elder children oftener still, had been +used to drive into the town now and again, but that was on pleasure +trips, which had lasted a day or two at most; they had never tried +staying there longer, and it was no wonder if they felt cramped and +oppressed in town after their free life in the open.</p> + +<p>When they first settled there, they had a capital of about ten thousand +rubles, but by reason of inexperience in their new occupation they were +worsted in competition with others, and a few turns of bad luck brought +them almost to ruin. The capital grew less from year to year; everything +they took up was more of a struggle than the last venture; poverty came +nearer and nearer, and the father of the family began to show signs of +illness, brought on by town life and worry. This, of course, made their +material position worse, and the knowledge of it reacted disastrously on +his health. Three years after he came to town, he died, and she was left +with six children and no means of subsistence. Already during her +husband's life they had exchanged their first lodging for a second, a +poorer and cheaper one, and after his death they moved into a third, +meaner and narrower still, and sold their precious furniture, for which, +indeed, there was no place in the new<a name="page_299" id="page_299"></a> existence. But even so the +question of bread and meat was not answered. They still had about six +hundred rubles, but, as they were without a trade, it was easy to +foresee that the little stock of money would dwindle day by day till +there was none of it left—and what then?</p> + +<p>The eldest son, Yossef, aged twenty-one, had gone from home a year +before his father's death, to seek his fortune elsewhere; but his first +letters brought no very good news, and now the second, Avròhom, a lad of +eighteen, and the daughter Rochel, who was sixteen, declared their +intention to start for America. The mother was against it, begged them +with tears not to go, but they did not listen to her. Parting with them, +forever most likely, was bad enough in itself, but worst of all was the +thought that her children, for whose Jewish education their father had +never grudged money even when times were hardest, should go to America, +and there, forgetting everything they had learned, become "ganze Goyim." +She was quite sure that her husband would never have agreed to his +children's being thus scattered abroad, and this encouraged her to +oppose their will with more determination. She urged them to wait at +least till their elder brother had achieved some measure of success, and +could help them. She held out this hope to them, because she believed in +her son Yossef and his capacity, and was convinced that in a little time +he would become their support.</p> + +<p>If only Avròhom and Rochel had not been so impatient (she would lament +to us), everything would have turned out differently! They would not +have been bustled off to the end of creation, and she would not<a name="page_300" id="page_300"></a> have +been left so lonely in her last years, but—it had apparently been so +ordained!</p> + +<p>Avròhom and Rochel agreed to defer the journey, but when some months had +passed, and Yossef was still wandering from town to town, finding no +rest for the sole of his foot, she had to give in to her children and +let them go. They took with them two hundred rubles and sailed for +America, and with the remaining three hundred rubles she opened a tiny +shop. Her expenses were not great now, as only the three younger +children were left her, but the shop was not sufficient to support even +these. The stock grew smaller month by month, there never being anything +over wherewith to replenish it, and there was no escaping the fact that +one day soon the shop would remain empty.</p> + +<p>And as if this were not enough, there came bad news from the children in +America. They did not complain much; on the contrary, they wrote most +hopefully about the future, when their position would certainly, so they +said, improve; but the mother's heart was not to be deceived, and she +felt instinctively that meanwhile they were doing anything but well, +while later—who could foresee what would happen later?</p> + +<p>One day she got a letter from Yossef, who wrote that, convinced of the +impossibility of earning a livelihood within the Pale, he was about to +make use of an opportunity that offered itself, and settle in a distant +town outside of it. This made her very sad, and she wept over her +fate—to have a son living in a Gentile city, where there were hardly +any Jews at all. And the next letter from America added sorrow to +sorrow. Avròhom<a name="page_301" id="page_301"></a> and Rochel had parted company, and were living in +different towns. She could not bear the thought of her young daughter +fending for herself among strangers—a thought that tortured her all the +more as she had a peculiar idea of America. She herself could not +account for the terror that would seize her whenever she remembered that +strange, distant life.</p> + +<p>But the worst was nearly over; the turn for the better came soon. She +received word from Yossef that he had found a good position in his new +home, and in a few weeks he proved his letter true by sending her money. +From America, too, the news that came was more cheerful, even joyous. +Avròhom had secured steady work with good pay, and before long he wrote +for his younger brother to join him in America, and provided him with +all the funds he needed for travelling expenses. Rochel had engaged +herself to a young man, whose praises she sounded in her letters. Soon +after her wedding, she sent money to bring over another brother, and her +husband added a few lines, in which he spoke of "his great love for his +new relations," and how he "looked forward with impatience to having one +of them, his dear brother-in-law, come to live with him."</p> + +<p>This was good and cheering news, and it all came within a year's time, +but the mother's heart grieved over it more than it rejoiced. Her +delight at her daughter's marriage with a good man she loved was +anything but unmixed. Melancholy thoughts blended with it, whether she +would or not. The occasion was one which a mother's fancy had painted in +rainbow colors, on the preparations for which it had dwelt with untold<a name="page_302" id="page_302"></a> +pleasure—and now she had had no share in it at all, and her heart +writhed under the disappointment. To make her still sadder, she was +obliged to part with two more children. She tried to prevent their +going, but they had long ago set their hearts on following their brother +and sister to America, and the recent letters had made them more anxious +to be off.</p> + +<p>So they started, and there remained only the youngest daughter, Rivkeh, +a girl of thirteen. Their position was materially not a bad one, for +every now and then the old woman received help from her children in +America and from her son Yossef, so that she was not even obliged to +keep up the shop, but the mother in her was not satisfied, because she +wanted to see her children's happiness with her own eyes. The good news +that continued to arrive at intervals brought pain as well as pleasure, +by reminding her how much less fortunate she was than other mothers, who +were counted worthy to live together with their children, and not at a +distance from them like her.</p> + +<p>The idea that she should go out to those of them who were in America, +never occurred to her, or to them, either! But Yossef, who had taken a +wife in his new town, and who, soon after, had set up for himself, and +was doing very well, now sent for his mother and little sister to come +and live with him. At first the mother was unwilling, fearing that she +might be in the way of her daughter-in-law, and thus disturb the +household peace; even later, when she had assured herself that the young +wife was very kind, and there was nothing to be afraid of, she could not +make up her mind<a name="page_303" id="page_303"></a> to go, even though she longed to be with Yossef, her +oldest son, who had always been her favorite, and however much she +desired to see his wife and her little grandchildren.</p> + +<p>Why she would not fulfil his wish and her own, she herself was not +clearly conscious; but she shrank from the strange fashion of the life +they led, and she never ceased to hope, deep down in her heart, that +some day they would come back to her. And this especially with regard to +Yossef, who sometimes complained in his letters that his situation was +anything but secure, because the smallest circumstance might bring about +an edict of expulsion. She quite understood that her son would consider +this a very bad thing, but she herself looked at it with other eyes; +round about <i>here</i>, too, were people who made a comfortable living, and +Yossef was no worse than others, that he should not do the same.</p> + +<p>Six or seven years passed in this way; the youngest daughter was twenty, +and it was time to think of a match for her. Her mother felt sure that +Yossef would provide the dowry, but she thought best Rivkeh and her +brother should see each other, and she consented readily to let Rivkeh +go to him, when Yossef invited her to spend several months as his guest. +No sooner had she gone, than the mother realized what it meant, this +parting with her youngest and, for the last years, her only child. She +was filled with regret at not having gone with her, and waited +impatiently for her return. Suddenly she heard that Rivkeh had found +favor with a friend of Yossef's, the son of a well-to-do merchant, and +that Rivkeh and her brother were equally pleased<a name="page_304" id="page_304"></a> with him. The two were +already engaged, and the wedding was only deferred till she, the mother, +should come and take up her abode with them for good.</p> + +<p>The longing to see her daughter overcame all her doubts. She resolved to +go to her son, and began preparations for the start. These were just +completed, when there came a letter from Yossef to say that the +situation had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and he and his family +might have to leave their town.</p> + +<p>This sudden news was distressing and welcome at one and the same time. +She was anxious lest the edict of expulsion should harm her son's +position, and pleased, on the other hand, that he should at last be +coming back, for God would not forsake him here, either; what with the +fortune he had, and his aptitude for trade, he would make a living right +enough. She waited anxiously, and in a few months had gone through all +the mental suffering inherent in a state of uncertainty such as hers, +when fear and hope are twined in one.</p> + +<p>The waiting was the harder to bear that all this time no letter from +Yossef or Rivkeh reached her promptly. And the end of it all was this: +news came that the danger was over, and Yossef would remain where he +was; but as far as she was concerned, it was best she should do +likewise, because trailing about at her age was a serious thing, and it +was not worth while her running into danger, and so on.</p> + +<p>The old woman was full of grief at remaining thus forlorn in her old +age, and she longed more than ever for her children after having hoped +so surely that she would be with them soon. She could not understand +Yossef's reason for suddenly changing his mind with regard<a name="page_305" id="page_305"></a> to her +coming; but it never occurred to her for one minute to doubt her +children's affection. And we, when we had read the treasured bundle of +letters from Yossef and Rivkeh, we could not doubt it, either. There was +love and longing for the distant mother in every line, and several of +the letters betrayed a spirit of bitterness, a note of complaining +resentment against the hard times that had brought about the separation +from her. And yet we could not help thinking, "Out of sight, out of +mind," that which is far from the eyes, weighs lighter at the heart. It +was the only explanation we could invent, for why, otherwise, should the +mother have to remain alone among strangers?</p> + +<p>All these considerations moved me to interfere in the matter without the +old woman's knowledge. She could read Yiddish, but could not write it, +and before we made friends, her letters to the children were written by +a shopkeeper of her acquaintance. But from the time we got to know her, +I became her constant secretary, and one day, when writing to Yossef for +her, I made use of the opportunity to enclose a letter from myself. I +asked his forgiveness for mixing myself up in another's family affairs, +and tried to justify the interference by dwelling on our affectionate +relations with his mother. I then described, in the most touching words +at my command, how hard it was for her to live forlorn, how she pined +for the presence of her children and grandchildren, and ended by telling +them, that it was their duty to free their mother from all this mental +suffering.</p> + +<p>There was no direct reply to this letter of mine, but the next one from +the son to his mother gave her to<a name="page_306" id="page_306"></a> understand that there are certain +things not to be explained, while the impossibility of explaining them +may lead to a misunderstanding. This hint made the position no clearer +to us, and the fact of Yossef's not answering me confirmed us in our +previous suspicions.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile our old friend fell ill, and quickly understood that she would +soon die. Among the things she begged me to do after her death and +having reference to her burial, there was one particular petition +several times repeated: to send a packet of Hebrew books, which had been +left by her husband, to her son Yossef, and to inform him of her death +by telegram. "My American children"—she explained with a sigh—"have +certainly forgotten everything they once learned, forgotten all their +Jewishness! But my son Yossef is a different sort; I feel sure of him, +that he will say Kaddish after me and read a chapter in the Mishnah, and +the books will come in useful for his children—Grandmother's legacy to +them."</p> + +<p>When I fulfilled the old woman's last wish, I learned how mistaken she +had been. The answer to my letter written during her lifetime came now +that she was dead. Her children thanked us warmly for our care of her, +and they also explained why she and they had remained apart.</p> + +<p>She had never known—and it was far better so—by what means her son had +obtained the right to live outside the Pale. It was enough that she +should have to live <i>forlorn</i>, where would have been the good of her +knowing that she was <i>forsaken</i> as well—that the one of her children +who had gone altogether over to "them" was Yossef?<a name="page_307" id="page_307"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="TASHRAK" id="TASHRAK"></a>TASHRAK</h3> + +<p>Pen name of Israel Joseph Zevin; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government +of Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; came to New York in 1889; first +Yiddish sketch published in Jüdisches Tageblatt, 1893; first English +story in The American Hebrew, 1906; associate editor of Jüdisches +Tageblatt; writer of sketches, short stories, and biographies, in +Hebrew, Yiddish, and English; contributor to Ha-Ibri, Jewish Comment, +and numerous Yiddish periodicals; collected works, Geklibene Schriften, +1 vol., New York, 1910, and Tashrak's Beste Erzählungen, 4 vols., New +York, 1910.</p> + +<p><a name="page_308" id="page_308"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_309" id="page_309"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_HOLE_IN_A_BEIGEL" id="THE_HOLE_IN_A_BEIGEL"></a>THE HOLE IN A BEIGEL</h3> + +<p>When I was a little Cheder-boy, my Rebbe, Bunem-Breine-Gite's, a learned +man, who was always tormenting me with Talmudical questions and with +riddles, once asked me, "What becomes of the hole in a Beigel, when one +has eaten the Beigel?"</p> + +<p>This riddle, which seemed to me then very hard to solve, stuck in my +head, and I puzzled over it day and night. I often bought a Beigel, took +a bite out of it, and immediately replaced the bitten-out piece with my +hand, so that the hole should not escape. But when I had eaten up the +Beigel, the hole had somehow always disappeared, which used to annoy me +very much. I went about preoccupied, thought it over at prayers and at +lessons, till the Rebbe noticed that something was wrong with me.</p> + +<p>At home, too, they remarked that I had lost my appetite, that I ate +nothing but Beigel—Beigel for breakfast, Beigel for dinner, Beigel for +supper, Beigel all day long. They also observed that I ate it to the +accompaniment of strange gestures and contortions of both my mouth and +my hands.</p> + +<p>One day I summoned all my courage, and asked the Rebbe, in the middle of +a lesson on the Pentateuch:</p> + +<p>"Rebbe, when one has eaten a Beigel, what becomes of the hole?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you little silly," answered the Rebbe, "what is a hole in a +Beigel? Just nothing at all! A bit of emptiness! It's nothing <i>with</i> the +Beigel and nothing <i>without</i> the Beigel!"<a name="page_310" id="page_310"></a></p> + +<p>Many years have passed since then, and I have not yet been able to +satisfy myself as to what is the object of a hole in a Beigel. I have +considered whether one could not have Beigels without holes. One lives +and learns. And America has taught me this: One <i>can</i> have Beigels +without holes, for I saw them in a dairy-shop in East Broadway. I at +once recited the appropriate blessing, and then I asked the shopman +about these Beigels, and heard a most interesting history, which shows +how difficult it is to get people to accept anything new, and what +sacrifices it costs to introduce the smallest reform.</p> + +<p>This is the story:</p> + +<p>A baker in an Illinois city took it into his head to make straight +Beigels, in the shape of candles. But this reform cost him dear, because +the united owners of the bakeries in that city immediately made a set at +him and boycotted him.</p> + +<p>They argued: "Our fathers' fathers baked Beigels with holes, the whole +world eats Beigels with holes, and here comes a bold coxcomb of a +fellow, upsets the order of the universe, and bakes Beigels <i>without</i> +holes! Have you ever heard of such impertinence? It's just revolution! +And if a person like this is allowed to go on, he will make an end of +everything: to-day it's Beigels without holes, to-morrow it will be +holes without Beigels! Such a thing has never been known before!"</p> + +<p>And because of the hole in a Beigel, a storm broke out in that city that +grew presently into a civil war. The "bosses" fought on, and dragged the +bakers'-hands Union after them into the conflict. Now the Union +contained<a name="page_311" id="page_311"></a> two parties, of which one declared that a hole and a Beigel +constituted together a private affair, like religion, and that everyone +had a right to bake Beigels as he thought best, and according to his +conscience. The other party maintained, that to sell Beigels without +holes was against the constitution, to which the first party replied +that the constitution should be altered, as being too ancient, and +contrary to the spirit of the times. At this the second party raised a +clamor, crying that the rules could not be altered, because they were +Toras-Lokshen and every letter, every stroke, every dot was a law in +itself! The city papers were obliged to publish daily accounts of the +meetings that were held to discuss the hole in a Beigel, and the papers +also took sides, and wrote fiery polemical articles on the subject. The +quarrel spread through the city, until all the inhabitants were divided +into two parties, the Beigel-with-a-hole party and the +Beigel-without-a-hole party. Children rose against their parents, wives +against their husbands, engaged couples severed their ties, families +were broken up, and still the battle raged—and all on account of the +hole in a Beigel!<a name="page_312" id="page_312"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="AS_THE_YEARS_ROLL_ON" id="AS_THE_YEARS_ROLL_ON"></a>AS THE YEARS ROLL ON</h3> + +<p>Rosalie laid down the cloth with which she had been dusting the +furniture in her front parlor, and began tapping the velvet covering of +the sofa with her fingers. The velvet had worn threadbare in places, and +there was a great rent in the middle.</p> + +<p>Had the rent been at one of the ends, it could have been covered with a +cushion, but there it was, by bad luck, in the very centre, and making a +shameless display of itself: Look, here I am! See what a rent!</p> + +<p>Yesterday she and her husband had invited company. The company had +brought children, and you never have children in the house without +having them leave some mischief behind them.</p> + +<p>To-day the sun was shining more brightly than ever, and lighting up the +whole room. Rosalie took the opportunity to inspect her entire set of +furniture. Eight years ago, when she was given the set at her marriage, +how happy, she had been! Everything was so fresh and new.</p> + +<p>She had noticed before that the velvet was getting worn, and the polish +of the chairs disappearing, and the seats losing their spring, but +to-day all this struck her more than formerly. The holes, the rents, the +damaged places, stared before them with such malicious mockery—like a +poor man laughing at his own evil plight.</p> + +<p>Rosalie felt a painful melancholy steal over her. Now she could not but +see that her furniture was old, that<a name="page_313" id="page_313"></a> she would soon be ashamed to +invite people into her parlor. And her husband will be in no hurry to +present her with a new one—he has grown so parsimonious of late!</p> + +<p>She replaced the holland coverings of the sofa and chairs, and went out +to do her bedroom. There, on a chair, lay her best dress, the one she +had put on yesterday for her guests.</p> + +<p>She considered the dress: that, too, was frayed in places; here and +there even drawn together and sewn over. The bodice was beyond ironing +out again—and this was her best dress. She opened the wardrobe, for she +wanted to make a general survey of her belongings. It was such a light +day, one could see even in the back rooms. She took down one dress after +another, and laid them out on the made beds, observing each with a +critical eye. Her sense of depression increased the while, and she felt +as though stone on stone were being piled upon her heart.</p> + +<p>She began to put the clothes back into the wardrobe, and she hung up +every one of them with a sigh. When she had finished with the bedroom, +she went into the dining-room, and stood by the sideboard on which were +set out her best china service and colored plates. She looked them over. +One little gold-rimmed cup had lost its handle, a bowl had a piece glued +in at the side. On the top shelf stood the statuette of a little god +with a broken bow and arrow in his hand, and here there was one little +goblet missing out of a whole service.</p> + +<p>As soon as everything was in order, Rosalie washed her face and hands, +combed up her hair, and began to look<a name="page_314" id="page_314"></a> at herself in a little +hand-glass, but the bath-room, to which she had retired, was dark, and +she betook herself back into the front parlor, towel in hand, where she +could see herself in the big looking-glass on the wall. Time, which had +left traces on the furniture, on the contents of the wardrobe, and on +the china, had not spared the woman, though she had been married only +eight years. She looked at the crow's-feet by her eyes, and the lines in +her forehead, which the worrying thoughts of this day had imprinted +there even more sharply than usual. She tried to smile, but the smile in +the glass looked no more attractive than if she had given her mouth a +twist. She remembered that the only way to remain young is to keep free +from care. But how is one to set about it? She threw on a scarlet +Japanese kimono, and stuck an artificial flower into her hair, after +which she lightly powdered her face and neck. The scarlet kimono lent a +little color to her cheeks, and another critical glance at the mirror +convinced her that she was still a comely woman, only no more a young +one.</p> + +<p>The bloom of youth had fled, never to return. Verfallen! And the desire +to live was stronger than ever, even to live her life over again from +the beginning, sorrows and all.</p> + +<p>She began to reflect what she should cook for supper. There was time +enough, but she must think of something new: her husband was tired of +her usual dishes. He said her cooking was old-fashioned, that it was +always the same thing, day in and day out. His taste was evidently +getting worn-out, too.<a name="page_315" id="page_315"></a></p> + +<p>And she wondered what she could prepare, so as to win back her husband's +former good temper and affectionate appreciation.</p> + +<p>At one time he was an ardent young man, with a fiery tongue. He had +great ideals, and he strove high. He talked of making mankind happy, +more refined, more noble and free. He had dreamt of a world without +tears and troubles, of a time when men should live as brothers, and +jealousy and hatred should be unknown. In those days he loved with all +the warmth of his youth, and when he talked of love, it was a delight to +listen. The world grew to have another face for her then, life, another +significance, Paradise was situated on the earth.</p> + +<p>Gradually his ideals lost their freshness, their shine wore off, and he +became a business man, racking his brain with speculations, trying to +grow rich without the necessary qualities and capabilities, and he was +left at last with prematurely grey hair as the only result of his +efforts.</p> + +<p>Eight years after their marriage he was as worn as their furniture in +the front parlor.</p> + +<p>Rosalie looked out of the window. It was even much brighter outside than +indoors. She saw people going up and down the street with different +anxieties reflected in their faces, with wrinkles telling different +histories of the cares of life. She saw old faces, and the young faces +of those who seemed to have tasted of age ere they reached it. +"Everything is old and worn and shabby," whispered a voice in her ear.</p> + +<p>A burst of childish laughter broke upon her meditations. Round the +corner came with a rush a lot of little<a name="page_316" id="page_316"></a> boys with books under their +arms, their faces full of the zest of life, and dancing and jumping till +the whole street seemed to be jumping and dancing, too. Elder people +turned smilingly aside to make way for them. Among the children Rosalie +espied two little girls, also with books under their arms, her little +girls! And the mother's heart suddenly brimmed with joy, a delicious +warmth stole into her limbs and filled her being.</p> + +<p>Rosalie went to the door to meet her two children on their return from +school, and when she had given each little face a motherly kiss, she +felt a breath of freshness and new life blowing round her.</p> + +<p>She took off their cloaks, and listened to their childish prattle about +their teachers and the day's lessons.</p> + +<p>The clear voices rang through the rooms, awaking sympathetic echoes in +every corner. The home wore a new aspect, and the sun shone even more +brightly than before and in more friendly, kindly fashion.</p> + +<p>The mother spread a little cloth at the edge of the table, gave them +milk and sandwiches, and looked at them as they ate—each child the +picture of the mother, her eyes, her hair, her nose, her look, her +gestures—they ate just as she would do.</p> + +<p>And Rosalie feels much better and happier. She doesn't care so much now +about the furniture being old, the dresses worn, the china service not +being whole, about the wrinkles round her eyes and in her forehead. She +only minds about her husband's being so worn-out, so absent-minded that +he cannot take pleasure in the children as she can.<a name="page_317" id="page_317"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="DAVID_PINSKI" id="DAVID_PINSKI"></a>DAVID PINSKI</h3> + +<p>Born, 1872, in Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; refused admission to +Gymnasium in Moscow under percentage restrictions; 1889-1891, secretary +to Bene Zion in Vitebsk; 1891-1893, student in Vienna; 1893, co-editor +of Spektor's Hausfreund and Perez's Yom-tov Blättlech; 1893, first +sketch published in New York Arbeiterzeitung; 1896, studied philosophy +in Berlin; 1899, came to New York, and edited Das Abendblatt, a daily, +and Der Arbeiter, a weekly; 1912, founder and co-editor of Die Yiddishe +Wochenschrift; author of short stories, sketches, an essay on the +Yiddish drama, and ten dramas, among them Yesurun, Eisik Scheftel, Die +Mutter, Die Familie Zwie, Der Oitzer, Der eibiger Jüd (first part of a +series of Messiah dramas), Der stummer Moschiach, etc.; one volume of +collected dramas, Dramen, Warsaw, 1909.</p> + +<p><a name="page_318" id="page_318"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_319" id="page_319"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="REB_SHLOIMEH" id="REB_SHLOIMEH"></a>REB SHLOIMEH</h3> + +<p>The seventy-year-old Reb Shloimeh's son, whose home was in the country, +sent his two boys to live with their grandfather and acquire town, that +is, Gentile, learning.</p> + +<p>"Times have changed," considered Reb Shloimeh; "it can't be helped!" and +he engaged a good teacher for the children, after making inquiries here +and there.</p> + +<p>"Give me a teacher who can tell the whole of <i>their</i> Law, as the saying +goes, standing on one leg!" he would say to his friends, with a smile.</p> + +<p>At seventy-one years of age, Reb Shloimeh lived more indoors than out, +and he used to listen to the teacher instructing his grandchildren.</p> + +<p>"I shall become a doctor in my old age!" he would say, laughing.</p> + +<p>The teacher was one day telling his pupils about mathematical geography. +Reb Shloimeh sat with a smile on his lips, and laughing in his heart at +the little teacher who told "such huge lies" with so much earnestness.</p> + +<p>"The earth revolves," said the teacher to his pupils, and Reb Shloimeh +smiles, and thinks, "He must have seen it!" But the teacher shows it to +be so by the light of reason, and Reb Shloimeh becomes graver, and +ceases smiling; he is endeavoring to grasp the proofs; he wants to ask +questions, but can find none that will do, and he sits there as if he +had lost his tongue.</p> + +<p>The teacher has noticed his grave look, and understands that the old man +is interested in the lesson, and<a name="page_320" id="page_320"></a> he begins to tell of even greater +wonders. He tells how far the sun is from the earth, how big it is, how +many earths could be made out of it—and Reb Shloimeh begins to smile +again, and at last can bear it no longer.</p> + +<p>"Look here," he exclaimed, "that I cannot and will not listen to! You +may tell me the earth revolves—well, be it so! Very well, I'll allow +you, that, perhaps, according to reason—even—the size of the +earth—the appearance of the earth—do you see?—all that sort of thing. +But the sun! Who has measured the sun! Who, I ask you! Have <i>you</i> been +on it? A pretty thing to say, upon my word!" Reb Shloimeh grew very +excited. The teacher took hold of Reb Shloimeh's hand, and began to +quiet him. He told him by what means the astronomers had discovered all +this, that it was no matter of speculation; he explained the telescope +to him, and talked of mathematical calculations, which he, Reb Shloimeh, +was not able to understand. Reb Shloimeh had nothing to answer, but he +frowned and remained obstinate. "Hê" (he said, and made a contemptuous +motion with his hand), "it's nothing to me, not knowing that or being +able to understand it! Science, indeed! Fiddlesticks!"</p> + +<p>He relapsed into silence, and went on listening to the teacher's +"stories." "We even know," the teacher continued, "what metals are to be +found in the sun."</p> + +<p>"And suppose I won't believe you?" and Reb Shloimeh smiled maliciously.</p> + +<p>"I will explain directly," answered the teacher.</p> + +<p>"And tell us there's a fair in the sky!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, +impatiently. He was very angry, but the teacher took no notice of his +anger.<a name="page_321" id="page_321"></a></p> + +<p>"Two hundred years ago," began the teacher, "there lived, in England, a +celebrated naturalist and mathematician, Isaac Newton. It was told of +him that when God said, Let there be light, Newton was born."</p> + +<p>"Psh! I should think, very likely!" broke in Reb Shloimeh. "Why not?"</p> + +<p>The teacher pursued his way, and gave an explanation of spectral +analysis. He spoke at some length, and Reb Shloimeh sat and listened +with close attention. "Now do you understand?" asked the teacher, coming +to an end.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh made no reply, he only looked up from under his brows.</p> + +<p>The teacher went on:</p> + +<p>"The earth," he said, "has stood for many years. Their exact number is +not known, but calculation brings it to several million—"</p> + +<p>"Ê," burst in the old man, "I should like to know what next! I thought +everyone knew <i>that</i>—that even <i>they</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, Reb Shloimeh," interrupted the teacher, "I will explain +directly."</p> + +<p>"Ma! It makes me sick to hear you," was the irate reply, and Reb +Shloimeh got up and left the room.</p> + +<p class="top5">All that day Reb Shloimeh was in a bad temper, and went about with +knitted brows. He was angry with science, with the teacher, with +himself, because he must needs have listened to it all.</p> + +<p>"Chatter and foolishness! And there I sit and listen to it!" he said to +himself with chagrin. But he remembered the "chatter," something begins +to weigh on his<a name="page_322" id="page_322"></a> heart and brain, he would like to find a something to +catch hold of, a proof of the vanity and emptiness of their teaching, to +invent some hard question, and stick out a long red tongue at them +all—those nowadays barbarians, those nowadays Newtons.</p> + +<p>"After all, it's mere child's play," he reflects. "It's ridiculous to +take their nonsense to heart."</p> + +<p>"Only their proofs, their proofs!" and the feeling of helplessness comes +over him once more.</p> + +<p>"Ma!" He pulls himself together. "Is it all over with us? Is it all up?! +All up?! The earth revolves! Gammon! As to their explanations—very +wonderful, to be sure! O, of course, it's all of the greatest +importance! Dear me, yes!"</p> + +<p>He is very angry, tears the buttons off his coat, puts his hat straight +on his head, and spits.</p> + +<p>"Apostates, nothing but apostates nowadays," he concludes. Then he +remembers the teacher—with what enthusiasm he spoke!</p> + +<p>His explanations ring in Reb Shloimeh's head, and prove things, and once +more the old gentleman is perplexed.</p> + +<p>Preoccupied, cross, with groans and sighs, he went to bed. But he was +restless all night, turning from one side to the other, and groaning. +His old wife tried to cheer him.</p> + +<p>"Such weather as it is to-day," she said, and coughed. "I have a pain in +the side, too."</p> + +<p>Next morning when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh inquired with a +displeased expression:</p> + +<p>"Well, are you going to tell stories again to-day?"<a name="page_323" id="page_323"></a></p> + +<p>"We shall not take geography to-day," answered the teacher.</p> + +<p>"Have your 'astronomers' found out by calculation on which days we may +learn geography?" asked Reb Shloimeh, with malicious irony.</p> + +<p>"No, that's a discovery of mine!" and the teacher smiled.</p> + +<p>"And when have 'your' astronomers decreed the study of geography?" +persisted Reb Shloimeh.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!" he repeated crossly, and left the room, missing a lesson +for the first time.</p> + +<p>Next day the teacher explained the eclipses of the sun and moon to his +pupils. Reb Shloimeh sat with his chair drawn up to the table, and +listened without a movement.</p> + +<p>"It is all so exact," the teacher wound up his explanation, "that the +astronomers are able to calculate to a minute <i>when</i> there will be an +eclipse, and have never yet made a mistake."</p> + +<p>At these last words Reb Shloimeh nodded in a knowing way, and looked at +the pupils as much as to say, "You ask <i>me</i> about that!"</p> + +<p>The teacher went on to tell of comets, planets, and other suns. Reb +Shloimeh snorted, and was continually interrupting the teacher with +exclamations. "If you don't believe me, go and measure for +yourself!"—"If it is not so, call me a liar!"—"Just so!"—"Within one +yard of it!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh repaid his Jewish education with interest. There were not +many learned men in the town<a name="page_324" id="page_324"></a> like Reb Shloimeh. The Rabbis without +flattery called him "a full basket," and Reb Shloimeh could not picture +to himself the existence of sciences other than "Jewish," and when at +last he did picture it, he would not allow that they were right, +unfalsified and right. He was so far intelligent, he had received a so +far enlightened education, that he could understand how among non-Jews +also there are great men. He would even have laughed at anyone who had +maintained the contrary. But that among non-Jews there should be men as +great as any Jewish ones, that he did <i>not</i> believe!—let alone, of +course, still greater ones.</p> + +<p>And now, little by little, Reb Shloimeh began to believe that "their" +learning was not altogether insignificant, for he, "the full basket," +was not finding it any too easy to master. And what he had to deal with +were not empty speculations, unfounded opinions. No, here were +mathematical computations, demonstrations which almost anyone can test +for himself, which impress themselves on the mind! And Reb Shloimeh is +vexed in his soul. He endeavored to cling to his old thoughts, his old +conceptions. He so wished to cry out upon the clear reasoning, the +simple explanations, with the phrases that are on the lips of every +ignorant obstructionist. And yet he felt that he was unjust, and he gave +up disputing with the teacher, as he paid close attention to the +latter's demonstrations. And the teacher would say quite simply:</p> + +<p>"One <i>can</i> measure," he would say, "why not? Only it takes a lot of +learning."</p> + +<p>When the teacher was at the door, Reb Shloimeh stayed him with a +question.<a name="page_325" id="page_325"></a></p> + +<p>"Then," he asked angrily, "the whole of 'your' learning is nothing but +astronomy and geography?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said the teacher, "there's a lot besides—a lot!"</p> + +<p>"For instance?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to tell you standing on one leg?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, 'on one leg,'" he answered impatiently, as though in anger.</p> + +<p>"But one can't tell you 'on one leg,'" said the teacher. "If you like, I +shall come on Sabbath, and we can have a chat."</p> + +<p>"Sabbath?" repeated Reb Shloimeh in a dissatisfied tone.</p> + +<p>"Sabbath, because I can't come at any other time," said the teacher.</p> + +<p>"Then let it be Sabbath," said Reb Shloimeh, reflectively.</p> + +<p>"But soon after dinner," he called after the teacher, who was already +outside the door. "And everything else is as right as your astronomy?" +he shouted, when the teacher had already gone a little way.</p> + +<p>"You will see!" and the teacher smiled.</p> + +<p class="top5">Never in his whole life had Reb Shloimeh waited for a Sabbath as he +waited for this one, and the two days that came before it seemed very +long to him; he never relaxed his frown, or showed a cheerful face the +whole time. And he was often seen, during those two days, to lift his +hands to his forehead. He went about as though there lay upon him a +heavy weight, which he wanted to throw off; or as if he had a very +disagreeable<a name="page_326" id="page_326"></a> bit of business before him, and wished he could get it +over.</p> + +<p>On Sabbath he could hardly wait for the teacher's appearance. "You +wanted a lot of asking," he said to him reproachfully.</p> + +<p>The old lady went to take her nap, the grandchildren to their play, and +Reb Shloimeh took the snuff-box between his fingers, leant against the +back of the "grandfather's chair" in which he was sitting, and listened +with close attention to the teacher's words.</p> + +<p>The teacher talked a long time, mentioned the names of sciences, and +explained their meaning, and Reb Shloimeh repeated each explanation in +brief. "Physics, then, is the science of—" "That means, then, that we +have here—that physiology explains—"</p> + +<p>The teacher would help him, and then immediately begin to talk of +another branch of science. By the time the old lady woke up, the teacher +had given examples of anatomy, physiology, physics, chemistry, zoology, +and sociology.</p> + +<p>It was quite late; people were coming back from the Afternoon Service, +and those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the sky. But +Reb Shloimeh had forgotten in what sort of world he was living. He sat +with wrinkled forehead and drawn brows, listening attentively, seeing +nothing before him but the teacher's face, only catching up his every +word.</p> + +<p>"You are still talking?" asked the old lady, in astonishment, rubbing +her eyes.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh turned his head toward his wife with a dazed look, as +though wondering what she meant by her question.<a name="page_327" id="page_327"></a></p> + +<p>"Oho!" said the old lady, "you only laugh at us women!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh drew his brows closer together, wrinkled his forehead still +more, and once more fastened his eyes on the teacher's lips.</p> + +<p>"It will soon be time to light the fire," muttered the old lady.</p> + +<p>The teacher glanced at the clock. "It's late," he said.</p> + +<p>"I should think it was!" broke in the old lady. "Why I was allowed to +sleep so long, I'm sure I don't know! People get to talking and even +forget about tea."</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh gave a look out of the window.</p> + +<p>"O wa!" he exclaimed, somewhat vexed, "they are already coming out of +Shool, the service is over! What a thing it is to sit talking! O wa!"</p> + +<p>He sprang from his seat, gave the pane a rub with his hand, and began to +recite the Afternoon Prayer. The teacher put on his things, but "Wait!" +Reb Shloimeh signed to him with his hand.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh finished reciting "Incense."</p> + +<p>"When shall you teach the children all that?" he asked then, looking +into the prayer-book with a scowl.</p> + +<p>"Not for a long time, not so quickly," answered the teacher. "The +children cannot understand everything."</p> + +<p>"I should think not, anything so wonderful!" replied Reb Shloimeh, +ironically, gazing at the prayer-book and beginning "Happy are we." He +swallowed the prayers as he said them, half of every word; no matter how +he wrinkled his forehead, he could not expel the stranger thoughts from +his brain, and fix his attention on the prayers. After the service he +tried taking up a book,<a name="page_328" id="page_328"></a> but it was no good, his head was a jumble of +all the new sciences. By means of the little he had just learned, he +wanted to understand and know everything, to fashion a whole body out of +a single hair, and he thought, and thought, and thought....</p> + +<p>Sunday, when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh told him that he wished to +have a little talk with him. Meantime he sat down to listen. The hour +during which the teacher taught the children was too long for him, and +he scarcely took his eyes off the clock.</p> + +<p>"Do you want another pupil?" he asked the teacher, stepping with him +into his own room. He felt as though he were getting red, and he made a +very angry face.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" answered the teacher, looking hard into Reb Shloimeh's face. +Reb Shloimeh looked at the floor, his brows, as was usual with him in +those days, drawn together.</p> + +<p>"You understand me—a pupil—" he stammered, "you understand—not a +little boy—a pupil—an elderly man—you understand—quite another +sort—"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, we shall see!" answered the teacher, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I mean myself!" he snapped out with great displeasure, as if he had +been forced to confess some very evil deed. "Well, I have sinned—what +do you want of me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I should be delighted!" and the teacher smiled.</p> + +<p>"I always said I meant to be a doctor!" said Reb Shloimeh, trying to +joke. But his features contracted again directly, and he began to talk +about the terms,<a name="page_329" id="page_329"></a> and it was arranged that every day for an hour and a +half the teacher should read to him and explain the sciences. To begin +with, Reb Shloimeh chose physiology, sociology, and mathematical +geography.</p> + +<p class="top5">Days, weeks, and months have gone by, and Reb Shloimeh has become +depressed, very depressed. He does not sleep at night, he has lost his +appetite, doesn't care to talk to people.</p> + +<p>Bad, bitter thoughts oppress him.</p> + +<p>For seventy years he had not only known nothing, but, on the contrary, +he had known everything wrong, understood head downwards. And it seemed +to him that if he had known in his youth what he knew now, he would have +lived differently, that his years would have been useful to others.</p> + +<p>He could find no stain on his life—it was one long record of deeds of +charity; but they appeared to him now so insignificant, so useless, and +some of them even mischievous. Looking round him, he saw no traces of +them left. The rich man of whom he used to beg donations is no poorer +for them, and the pauper for whom he begged them is the same pauper as +before. It is true, he had always thought of the paupers as sacks full +of holes, and had only stuffed things into them because he had a soft +heart, and could not bear to see a look of disappointment, or a tear +rolling down the pale cheek of a hungry pauper. His own little world, as +he had found it and as it was now, seemed to him much worse than before, +in spite of all the good things he had done in it.<a name="page_330" id="page_330"></a></p> + +<p>Not one good rich man! Not one genuine pauper! They are all just as +hungry and their palms itch—there is no easing them. Times get harder, +the world gets poorer. Now he understands the reason of it all, now it +all lies before him as clear as on a map—he would be able to make every +one understand. Only now—now it was getting late—he has no strength +left. His spent life grieves him. If he had not been so active, such a +"father of the community," it would not have grieved him so much. But he +<i>had</i> had a great influence in the town, and this influence had been +badly, blindly used! And Reb Shloimeh grew sadder day by day.</p> + +<p>He began to feel a pain at his heart, a stitch in the side, a burning in +his brain, and he was wrapt in his thoughts. Reb Shloimeh was +philosophizing.</p> + +<p>To be of use to somebody, he reflected, means to leave an impress of +good in their life. One ought to help once for all, so that the other +need never come for help again. That can be accomplished by wakening and +developing a man's intelligence, so that he may always know for himself +wherein his help lies.</p> + +<p>And in such work he would have spent his life. If he had only understood +long ago, ah, how useful he would have been! And a shudder runs through +him.</p> + +<p>Tears of vexation come more than once into his eyes.</p> + +<p class="top5">It was no secret in the town that old Reb Shloimeh spent two to three +hours daily sitting with the teacher, only what they did together, that +nobody knew. They tried to worm something out of the maid, but what was +to be got out of a "glomp with two eyes," whose<a name="page_331" id="page_331"></a> one reply was, "I don't +know." They scolded her for it. "How can you not know, glomp?" they +exclaimed. "Aren't you sometimes in the room with them?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, good people, what's the use of coming to me?" the maid would +cry. "How can I know, sitting in the kitchen, what they are about? When +I bring in the tea, I see them talking, and I go!"</p> + +<p>"Dull beast!" they would reply. Then they left her, and betook +themselves to the grandchildren, who knew nothing, either.</p> + +<p>"They have tea," was their answer to the question, "What does +grandfather do with the teacher?"</p> + +<p>"But what do they talk about, sillies?"</p> + +<p>"We haven't heard!" the children answered gravely.</p> + +<p>They tried the old lady.</p> + +<p>"Is it my business?" she answered.</p> + +<p>They tried to go in to Reb Shloimeh's house, on the pretext of some +business or other, but that didn't succeed, either. At last, a few near +and dear friends asked Reb Shloimeh himself.</p> + +<p>"How people do gossip!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"We just sit and talk!"</p> + +<p>There it remained. The matter was discussed all over the town. Of +course, nobody was satisfied. But he pacified them little by little.</p> + +<p>The apostate teacher must turn hot and cold with him!</p> + +<p>They imagined that they were occupied with research, and that Reb +Shloimeh was opening the teacher's eyes for him—and they were pacified. +When Reb Shloimeh<a name="page_332" id="page_332"></a> suddenly fell on melancholy, it never came into +anyone's head that there might be a connection between this and the +conversations. The old lady settled that it was a question of the +stomach, which had always troubled him, and that perhaps he had taken a +chill. At his age such things were frequent. "But how is one to know, +when he won't speak?" she lamented, and wondered which would be best, +cod-liver oil or dried raspberries.</p> + +<p>Every one else said that he was already in fear of death, and they +pitied him greatly. "That is a sickness which no doctor can cure," +people said, and shook their heads with sorrowful compassion. They +talked to him by the hour, and tried to prevent him from being alone +with his thoughts, but it was all no good; he only grew more depressed, +and would often not speak at all.</p> + +<p>"Such a man, too, what a pity!" they said, and sighed. "He's pining +away—given up to the contemplation of death."</p> + +<p>"And if you come to think, why should he fear death?" they wondered. "If +<i>he</i> fears it, what about us? Och! och! och! Have we so much to show in +the next world?" And Reb Shloimeh had a lot to show. Jews would have +been glad of a tenth part of his world-to-come, and Christians declared +that he was a true Christian, with his love for his fellow-men, and +promised him a place in Paradise. "Reb Shloimeh is goodness itself," the +town was wont to say. His one lifelong occupation had been the affairs +of the community. "They are my life and my delight," he would repeat to +his intimate friends, "as indispensable to me as water<a name="page_333" id="page_333"></a> to a fish." He +was a member of all the charitable societies. The Talmud Torah was +established under his own roof, and pretty nearly maintained at his +expense. The town called him the "father of the community," and all +unfortunate, poor, and bitter hearts blessed him unceasingly.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh was the one person in the town almost without an enemy, +perhaps the one in the whole province. Rich men grumbled at him. He was +always after their money—always squeezing them for charities. They +called him the old fool, the old donkey, but without meaning what they +said. They used to laugh at him, to make jokes upon him, of course among +themselves; but they had no enmity against him. They all, with a full +heart, wished him joy of his tranquil life.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh was born, and had spent years, in wealth. After making an +excellent marriage, he set up a business. His wife was the leading +spirit within doors, the head of the household, and his whole life had +been apparently a success.</p> + +<p>When he had married his last child, and found himself a grandfather, he +retired from business, and lived his last years on the interest of his +fortune.</p> + +<p>Free from the hate and jealousy of neighbors, pleasant and satisfactory +in every respect, such was Reb Shloimeh's life, and for all that he +suddenly became melancholy! It can be nothing but the fear of death!</p> + +<p class="top5">But very soon Reb Shloimeh, as it were with a wave of the hand, +dismissed the past altogether.<a name="page_334" id="page_334"></a></p> + +<p>He said to himself with a groan that what had been was over and done; he +would never grow young again, and once more a shudder went through him +at the thought, and there came again the pain in his side and caught his +breath, but Reb Shloimeh took no notice, and went on thinking. +"Something must be done!" he said to himself, in the tone of one who has +suddenly lost his whole fortune—the fortune he has spent his life in +getting together, and there is nothing for him but to start work again +with his five fingers.</p> + +<p>And Reb Shloimeh started. He began with the Talmud Torah, where he had +already long provided for the children's bodily needs—food and +clothing.</p> + +<p>Now he would supply them with spiritual things—instruction and +education.</p> + +<p>He dismissed the old teachers, and engaged young ones in their stead, +even for Jewish subjects. Out of the Talmud Torah he wanted to make a +little university. He already fancied it a success. He closed his eyes, +laid his forehead on his hands, and a sweet, happy smile parted his +lips. He pictured to himself the useful people who would go forth out of +the Talmud Torah. Now he can die happy, he thinks. But no, he does not +want to die! He wants to live! To live and to work, work, work! He will +not and cannot see an end to his life! Reb Shloimeh feels more and more +cheerful, lively, and fresh—to work——to work—till—</p> + +<p>The whole town was in commotion.</p> + +<p>There was a perfect din in the Shools, in the streets, in the houses. +Hypocrites and crooked men, who had never before been seen or heard of, +led the dance.<a name="page_335" id="page_335"></a></p> + +<p>"To make Gentiles out of the children, forsooth! To turn the Talmud +Torah into a school! That we won't allow! No matter if we have to turn +the world upside down, no matter what happens!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh heard the cries, and made as though he heard nothing. He +thought it would end there, that no one would venture to oppose him +further.</p> + +<p>"What do you say to that?" he asked the teachers. "Fanaticism has broken +out already!"</p> + +<p>"It will give trouble," replied the teachers.</p> + +<p>"Eh, nonsense!" said Reb Shloimeh, with conviction. But on Sabbath, at +the Reading of the Law, he saw that he had been mistaken. The opposition +had collected, and they got onto the platform, and all began speaking at +once. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, beyond a word +here and there, or the fragment of a sentence: "—none of it!" "we won't +allow—!" "—made into Gentiles!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh sat in his place by the east wall, his hands on the desk +where lay his Pentateuch. He had taken off his spectacles, and glanced +at the platform, put them on again, and was once more reading the +Pentateuch. They saw this from the platform, and began to shout louder +than ever. Reb Shloimeh stood up, took off his prayer-scarf, and was +moving toward the door, when he heard some one call out, with a bang of +his fist on the platform:</p> + +<p>"With the consent of the Rabbis and the heads of the community, and in +the name of the Holy Torah, it is resolved to take the children away +from the Talmud Torah, seeing that in place of the Torah there is +uncleanness——"<a name="page_336" id="page_336"></a></p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh grew pale, and felt a rent in his heart. He stared at the +platform with round eyes and open mouth.</p> + +<p>"The children are to be made into Gentiles," shouted the person on the +platform meantime, "and we have plenty of Gentiles, thank God, already! +Thus may they perish, with their name and their remembrance! We are not +short of Gentiles—there are more every day! And hatred increases, and +God knows what the Jews are coming to! Whoso has God in his heart, and +is jealous for the honor of the Law, let him see to it that the children +cease going to the place of peril!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh wanted to call out, "Silence, you scoundrel!" The words all +but rolled off his tongue, but he contained himself, and moved on.</p> + +<p>"The one who obeys will be blessed," proclaimed the individual on the +platform, "and whoso despises the decree, his end shall be Gehenna, with +that of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who sinned and made Israel to sin!"</p> + +<p>With these last words the speaker threw a fiery glance at Reb Shloimeh.</p> + +<p>A quiver ran through the Shool, and all eyes were turned on Reb +Shloimeh, expecting him to begin abusing the speaker. A lively scene was +anticipated. But Reb Shloimeh smiled.</p> + +<p>He quietly handed his prayer-scarf to the beadle, wished the bystanders +"good Sabbath," and walked out of Shool, leaving them all disconcerted.</p> + +<p class="top5">That Sabbath Reb Shloimeh was the quietest man in the whole town. He was +convinced that the interdict<a name="page_337" id="page_337"></a> would have no effect on anyone. "People +are not so foolish as all that," he thought, "and they wouldn't treat +<i>him</i> in that way!" He sat and laid plans for carrying on the education +in the Talmud Torah, and he felt so light of heart that he sang to +himself for very pleasure.</p> + +<p>The old wife, meanwhile, was muttering and moaning. She had all her life +been quite content with her husband and everything he did, and had +always done her best to help him, hoping that in the world to come she +would certainly share his portion of immortality. And now she saw with +horror that he was like to throw away his future. But how ever could it +be? she wondered, and was bathed in tears: "What has come over you? What +has happened to make you like that? They are not just to you, are they, +when they say that about taking children and making Gentiles of them?" +Reb Shloimeh smiled. "Do you think," he said to her, "that I have gone +mad in my old age? Don't be afraid. I'm in my right mind, and you shall +not lose your place in Paradise."</p> + +<p>But the wife was not satisfied with the reply, and continued to mutter +and to weep. There were goings-on in the town, too. The place was aboil +with excitement. Of course they talked about Reb Shloimeh; nobody could +make out what had come to him all of a sudden.</p> + +<p>"That is the teacher's work!" explained one of a knot of talkers.</p> + +<p>"And we thought Reb Shloimeh such a sage, such a clever man, so +book-learned. How can the teacher (may his name perish!) have talked him +over?"<a name="page_338" id="page_338"></a></p> + +<p>"It's a pity on the children's account!" one would exclaim here and +there. "In the Talmud Torah, under his direction, they wanted for +nothing, and what's to become of them now! They'll be running wild in +the streets!"</p> + +<p>"What then? Do you mean it would be better to make Gentiles of them?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there! Of course, I understand!" he would hasten to say, +penitently. And a resolution was passed, to the effect that the children +should not be allowed to attend the Talmud Torah.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh stood at his window, and watched the excited groups in the +street, saw how the men threw themselves about, rocked themselves, bit +their beards, described half-circles with their thumbs, and he smiled.</p> + +<p>In the evening the teachers came and told him what had been said in the +town, and how all held that the children were not to be allowed to go to +the Talmud Torah. Reb Shloimeh was a little disturbed, but he composed +himself again and thought:</p> + +<p>"Eh, they will quiet down, never mind! They won't do it to <i>me</i>!——"</p> + +<p>Entering the Talmud Torah on Sunday, he was greeted by four empty walls. +Even two orphans, who had no relations or protector in the town, had not +come. They had been frightened and talked at and not allowed to attend, +and free meals had been secured for all of them, so that they should not +starve.</p> + +<p>For the moment Reb Shloimeh lost his head. He glanced at the teachers as +though ashamed in their presence, and his glance said, "What is to be +done now?"<a name="page_339" id="page_339"></a></p> + +<p>Suddenly he pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"No!" he exclaimed, "they shall not get the better of me," and he ran +out of the Talmud Torah, and was gone.</p> + +<p>He ran from house to house, to the parents and relations of the +children. But they all looked askance at him, and he accomplished +nothing: they all kept to it—"No!"</p> + +<p>"Come, don't be silly! Send, send the children to the Talmud Torah," he +begged. "You will see, you will not regret it!"</p> + +<p>And he drew a picture for them of the sort of people the children would +become.</p> + +<p>But it was no use.</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> haven't got to manage the world," they answered him. "We have +lived without all that, and our children will live as we are living now. +We have no call to make Gentiles of them!"</p> + +<p>"We know, we know! People needn't come to us with stories," they would +say in another house. "We don't intend to sell our souls!" was the cry +in a third.</p> + +<p>"And who says I have sold mine?" Reb Shloimeh would ask sharply.</p> + +<p>"How should we know? Besides, who was talking of you?" they answered +with a sweet smile.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh reached home tired and depressed. The old wife had a shock +on seeing him.</p> + +<p>"Dear Lord!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "What is the matter with +you? What makes you look like that?"<a name="page_340" id="page_340"></a></p> + +<p>The teachers, who were there waiting for him, asked no questions: they +had only to look at his ghastly appearance to know what had happened.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh sank into his arm-chair.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he said, looking sideways, but meaning it for the teachers.</p> + +<p>"Nothing is nothing!" and they betook themselves to consoling him. "We +will find something else to do, get hold of some other children, or else +wait a little—they'll ask to be taken back presently."</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh did not hear them. He had let his head sink on to his +breast, turned his look sideways, and thoughts he could not piece +together, fragments of thoughts, went round and round in the drooping +head.</p> + +<p>"Why? Why?" He asked himself over and over. "To do such a thing to <i>me</i>! +Well, there you are! There you have it!—You've lived your life—like a +man!—"</p> + +<p>His heart felt heavy and hurt him, and his brain grew warm, warm. In one +minute there ran through his head the impression which his so nearly +finished life had made on him of late, and immediately after it all the +plans he had thought out for setting to right his whole past life by +means of the little bit left him. And now it was all over and done! +"Why? Why?" he asked himself without ceasing, and could not understand +it.</p> + +<p>He felt his old heart bursting with love to all men. It beat more and +more strongly, and would not cease from loving; and he would fain have +seen everyone so happy, so happy! He would have worked with his last bit +of strength, he would have drawn his last breath<a name="page_341" id="page_341"></a> for the cause to which +he had devoted himself. He is no longer conscious of the whereabouts of +his limbs, he feels his head growing heavier, his feet cold, and it is +dark before his eyes.</p> + +<p>When he came to himself again, he was in bed; on his head was a bandage +with ice; the old wife was lamenting; the teachers stood not far from +the bed, and talked among themselves. He wanted to lift his hand and +draw it across his forehead, but somehow he does not feel his hand at +all. He looks at it—it lies stretched out beside him. And Reb Shloimeh +understood what had happened to him.</p> + +<p>"A stroke!" he thought, "I am finished, done for!"</p> + +<p>He tried to give a whistle and make a gesture with his hand: +"Verfallen!" but the lips would not meet properly, and the hand never +moved.</p> + +<p>"There you are, done for!" the lips whispered. He glanced round, and +fixed his eyes on the teachers, and then on his wife, wishing to read in +their faces whether there was danger, whether he was dying, or whether +there was still hope. He looked, and could not make out anything. Then, +whispering, he called one of the teachers, whose looks had met his, to +his side.</p> + +<p>The teacher came running.</p> + +<p>"Done for, eh?" asked Reb Shloimeh.</p> + +<p>"No, Reb Shloimeh, the doctors give hope," the teacher replied, so +earnestly that Reb Shloimeh's spirits revived.</p> + +<p>"Nu, nu," said Reb Shloimeh, as though he meant, "So may it be! Out of +your mouth into God's ears!"</p> + +<p>The other teachers all came nearer.<a name="page_342" id="page_342"></a></p> + +<p>"Good?" whispered Reb Shloimeh, "good, ha? There's a hero for you!" he +smiled.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," they said cheeringly, "you will get well again, and work, +and do many things yet!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, please God!" he answered, and looked away.</p> + +<p>And Reb Shloimeh really got better every day. The having lived wisely +and the will to live longer saved him.</p> + +<p>The first time that he was able to move a hand or lift a foot, a broad, +sweet smile spread itself over his face, and a fire kindled in his all +but extinguished eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good luck to you!" he cried out to those around. He was very cheerful +in himself, and began to think once more about doing something or other. +"People must be taught, they must be taught, even if the world turn +upside down," he thought, and rubbed his hands together with impatience.</p> + +<p>"If it's not to be in the Talmud Torah, it must be somewhere else!" And +he set to work thinking where it should be. He recalled all the +neighbors to his memory, and suddenly grew cheerful.</p> + +<p>Not far away there lived a bookbinder, who employed as many as ten +workmen. They work sometimes from fifteen to sixteen hours, and have no +strength left for study. One must teach <i>them</i>, he thinks. The master is +not likely to object. Reb Shloimeh was the making of him, he it was who +protected him, introduced him into all the best families, and finally +set him on his feet.<a name="page_343" id="page_343"></a></p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh grows more and more lively, and is continually trying to +rise from his couch.</p> + +<p>Once out of bed, he could hardly endure to stay in the room, and how +happy he felt, when, leaning on a stick, he stept out into the street! +He hurried in the direction of the bookbinder's.</p> + +<p>He was convinced that people's feelings toward him had changed for the +better, that they would rejoice on seeing him.</p> + +<p>How he looked forward to seeing a friendly smile on every face! He would +have counted himself the happiest of men, if he had been able to hope +that now everything was different, and would come right.</p> + +<p>But he did not see the smile.</p> + +<p>The town looked upon the apoplectic stroke as God's punishment—it was +obvious. "Aha!" they had cried on hearing of it, and everyone saw in it +another proof, and it also was "obvious"—of the fact that there is a +God in the world, and that people cannot do just what they like. The +great fanatics overflowed with eloquence, and saw in it an act of +Heavenly vengeance. "Serves him right! Serves him right!" they thought. +"Whose fault is it?" people replied, when some one reminded them that it +was very sad—such a man as he had been, "Who told him to do it? He has +himself to thank for his misfortunes."</p> + +<p>The town had never ceased talking of him the whole time. Every one was +interested in knowing how he was, and what was the matter with him. And +when they heard that he was better, that he was getting well, they +really were pleased; they were sure that he would give<a name="page_344" id="page_344"></a> up all his +foolish plans, and understand that God had punished him, and that he +would be again as before.</p> + +<p>But it soon became known that he clung to his wickedness, and people +ceased to rejoice.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi and his fanatical friends came to see him one day by way of +visiting the sick. Reb Shloimeh felt inclined to ask them if they had +come to stare at him as one visited by a miracle, but he refrained, and +surveyed them with indifference.</p> + +<p>"Well, how are you, Reb Shloimeh?" they asked.</p> + +<p>"Gentiles!" answered Reb Shloimeh, almost in spite of himself, and +smiled.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi and the others became confused.</p> + +<p>They sat a little while, couldn't think of anything to say, and got up +from their seats. Then they stood a bit, wished him a speedy return to +health, and went away, without hearing any answer from Reb Shloimeh to +their "good night."</p> + +<p>It was not long before the whole town knew of the visit, and it began to +boil like a kettle.</p> + +<p>To commit such sin is to play with destiny. Once you are in, there is no +getting out! Give the devil a hair, and he'll snatch at the whole beard.</p> + +<p>So when Reb Shloimeh showed himself in the street, they stared at him +and shook their heads, as though to say, "Such a man—and gone to ruin!"</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh saw it, and it cut him to the heart. Indeed, it brought the +tears to his eyes, and he began to walk quicker in the direction of the +bookbinder's.</p> + +<p>At the bookbinder's they received him in friendly fashion, with a hearty +"Welcome!" but he fancied that<a name="page_345" id="page_345"></a> here also they looked at him askance, +and therefore he gave a reason for his coming.</p> + +<p>"Walking is hard work," he said, "one must have stopping-places."</p> + +<p>With this same excuse he went there every day. He would sit for an hour +or two, talking, telling stories, and at last he began to tell the +"stories" which the teacher had told.</p> + +<p>He sat in the centre of the room, and talked away merrily, with a pun +here and a laugh there, and interested the workmen deeply. Sometimes +they would all of one accord stop working, open their mouths, fix their +eyes, and hang on his lips with an intelligent smile.</p> + +<p>Or else they stood for a few minutes tense, motionless as statues, till +Reb Shloimeh finished, before the master should interpose.</p> + +<p>"Work, work—you will hear it all in time!" he would say, in a cross, +dissatisfied tone.</p> + +<p>And the workmen would unwillingly bend their backs once more over their +task, but Reb Shloimeh remained a little thrown out. He lost the thread +of what he was telling, began buttoning and unbuttoning his coat, and +glanced guiltily at the binder.</p> + +<p>But he went his own way nevertheless.</p> + +<p>As to his hearers, he was overjoyed with them. When he saw that the +workmen began to take interest in every book that was brought them to be +bound, he smiled happily, and his eyes sparkled with delight.</p> + +<p>And if it happened to be a book treating of the subjects on which they +had heard something from Reb<a name="page_346" id="page_346"></a> Shloimeh, they threw themselves upon it, +nearly tore it to pieces, and all but came to blows as to who should +have the binding of it.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh began to feel that he was doing something, that he was +being really useful, and he was supremely happy.</p> + +<p>The town, of course, was aware of Reb Shloimeh's constant visits to the +bookbinder's, and quickly found out what he did there.</p> + +<p>"He's just off his head!" they laughed, and shrugged their shoulders. +They even laughed in Reb Shloimeh's face, but he took no notice of it.</p> + +<p>His pleasure, however, came to a speedy end. One day the binder spoke +out.</p> + +<p>"Reb Shloimeh," he said shortly, "you prevent us from working with your +stories. What do you mean by it? You come and interfere with the work."</p> + +<p>"But do I disturb?" he asked. "They go on working all the time——"</p> + +<p>"And a pretty way of working," answered the bookbinder. "The boys are +ready enough at finding an excuse for idling as it is! And why do you +choose me? There are plenty of other workshops——"</p> + +<p>It was an honest "neck and crop" business, and there was nothing left +for Reb Shloimeh but to take up his stick and go.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—again!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>There was a sting in his heart, a beating in his temples, and his head +burned.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—again! This time it's all over. I must die—die—a story +<i>with</i> an end."<a name="page_347" id="page_347"></a></p> + +<p>Had he been young, he would have known what to do. He would never have +begun to think about death, but now—where was the use of living on? +What was there to wait for? All over!—all over!—</p> + +<p>It was as much as he could do to get home. He sat down in the arm-chair, +laid his head back, and thought.</p> + +<p>He pictured to himself the last weeks at the bookbinder's and the change +that had taken place in the workmen; how they had appeared +better-mannered, more human, more intelligent. It seemed to him that he +had implanted in them the love of knowledge and the inclination to +study, had put them in the way of viewing more rightly what went on +around them. He had been of some account with them—and all of a +sudden—!</p> + +<p>"No!" he said to himself. "They will come to me—they must come!" he +thought, and fixed his eyes on the door.</p> + +<p>He even forgot that they worked till nine o'clock at night, and the +whole evening he never took his eyes off the door.</p> + +<p>The time flew, it grew later and later, and the book-binders did not +come.</p> + +<p>At last he could bear it no longer, and went out into the street; +perhaps he would see them, and then he would call them in.</p> + +<p>It was dark in the street; the gas lamps, few and far between, scarcely +gave any light. A chilly autumn night; the air was saturated with +moisture, and there was dreadful mud under foot. There were very few +passers-by, and Reb Shloimeh remained standing at his door.<a name="page_348" id="page_348"></a></p> + +<p>When he heard a sound of footsteps or voices, his heart began to beat +quicker. His old wife came out three times to call him into the house +again, but he did not hear her, and remained standing outside.</p> + +<p>The street grew still. There was nothing more to be heard but the +rattles of the night-watchmen. Reb Shloimeh gave a last look into the +darkness, as though trying to see someone, and then, with a groan, he +went indoors.</p> + +<p>Next morning he felt very weak, and stayed in bed. He began to feel that +his end was near, that he was but a guest tarrying for a day.</p> + +<p>"It's all the same, all the same!" he said to himself, thinking quietly +about death.</p> + +<p>All sorts of ideas went through his head. He thought as it were +unconsciously, without giving himself a clear account of what he was +thinking of.</p> + +<p>A variety of images passed through his mind, scenes out of his long +life, certain people, faces he had seen here and there, comrades of his +childhood, but they all had no interest for him. He kept his eyes fixed +on the door of his room, waiting for death, as though it would come in +by the door.</p> + +<p>He lay like that the whole day. His wife came in continually, and asked +him questions, and he was silent, not taking his eyes off the door, or +interrupting the train of his thoughts. It seemed as if he had ceased +either to see or to hear. In the evening the teachers began coming.</p> + +<p>"Finished!" said Reb Shloimeh, looking at the door. Suddenly he heard a +voice he knew, and raised his head.<a name="page_349" id="page_349"></a></p> + +<p>"We have come to visit the sick," said the voice.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and there came in four workmen at once.</p> + +<p>At first Reb Shloimeh could not believe his eyes, but soon a smile +appeared upon his lips, and he tried to sit up.</p> + +<p>"Come, come!" he said joyfully, and his heart beat rapidly with +pleasure.</p> + +<p>The workmen remained standing some way from the bed, not venturing to +approach the sick man, but Reb Shloimeh called them to him.</p> + +<p>"Nearer, nearer, children!" he said.</p> + +<p>They came a little nearer.</p> + +<p>"Come here, to me!" and he pointed to the bed.</p> + +<p>They came up to the bed.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you all about?" he asked with a smile.</p> + +<p>The workmen were silent.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not come last night?" he asked, and looked at them smiling.</p> + +<p>The workmen were silent, and shuffled with their feet.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Reb Shloimeh?" asked one of them.</p> + +<p>"Very well, very well," answered Reb Shloimeh, still smiling. "Thank +you, children! Thank you!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, children, sit down." he said after a pause. "I will tell you +some more stories."</p> + +<p>"It will tire you, Reb Shloimeh," said a workman. "When you are +better——"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sit down!" said Reb Shloimeh, impatiently. "That's <i>my</i> +business!"<a name="page_350" id="page_350"></a></p> + +<p>The workmen exchanged glances with the teachers and the teachers signed +to them <i>not</i> to sit down.</p> + +<p>"Not to-day, Reb Shloimeh, another time, when you—"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sit down!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, "Do me the pleasure!"</p> + +<p>Once more the workmen exchanged looks with the teachers, and, at a sign +from them, they sat down.</p> + +<p>Reb Shloimeh began telling them the long story of the human race, he +spoke with ardor, and it was long since his voice had sounded as it +sounded then.</p> + +<p>He spoke for a long, long time.</p> + +<p>They interrupted him two or three times, and reminded him that it was +bad for him to talk so much. But he only signified with a gesture that +they were to let him alone.</p> + +<p>"I am getting better," he said, and went on.</p> + +<p>At length the workmen rose from their seats.</p> + +<p>"Let us go, Reb Shloimeh. It's getting late for us," they begged.</p> + +<p>"True, true," he replied, "but to-morrow, do you hear? Look here, +children, to-morrow!" he said, giving them his hand.</p> + +<p>The workmen promised to come. They moved away a few steps, and then Reb +Shloimeh called them back.</p> + +<p>"And the others?" he inquired feebly, as though he were ashamed of +asking.</p> + +<p>"They were lazy, they wouldn't come," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said, in a tone that meant "Well, well, I know, you +needn't say any more, but look here, to-morrow!"<a name="page_351" id="page_351"></a></p> + +<p>"Now I am well again," he whispered as the workmen went out. He could +scarcely move a limb, but he was very cheerful, looked at every one with +a happy smile, and his eyes shone.</p> + +<p>"Now I am well," he whispered when they had been obliged to put him into +bed and cover him up. "Now I am well," he repeated, feeling the while +that his head was strangely heavy, his heart faint, and that he was very +poorly. Before many minutes he had fallen into a state of +unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>A dreadful, heartbreaking cry recalled him to himself. He opened his +eyes. The room was full of people. In many eyes were tears.</p> + +<p>"Soon, then," he thought, and began to remember something.</p> + +<p>"What o'clock is it?" he asked of the person who stood beside him.</p> + +<p>"Five."</p> + +<p>"They stop work at nine," he whispered to himself, and called one of the +teachers to him.</p> + +<p>"When the workmen come, they are to let them in, do you hear!" he said. +The teacher promised.</p> + +<p>"They will come at nine," added Reb Shloimeh.</p> + +<p>In a little while he asked to write his will. After writing the will, he +undressed and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>They thought he had fallen asleep, but Reb Shloimeh was not asleep. He +lay and thought, not about his past life, but about the future, the +future in which men would live. He thought of what man would come to be. +He pictured to himself a bright, glad world, in which<a name="page_352" id="page_352"></a> all men would be +equal in happiness, knowledge, and education, and his dying heart beat a +little quicker, while his face expressed joy and contentment. He opened +his eyes, and saw beside him a couple of teachers.</p> + +<p>"And will it really be?" he asked and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Reb Shloimeh," they answered, without knowing to what his question +referred, for his face told them it was something good. The smile +accentuated itself on his lips.</p> + +<p>Once again he lost himself in thought.</p> + +<p>He wanted to imagine that happy world, and see with his mind's eye +nothing but happy people, educated people, and he succeeded.</p> + +<p>The picture was not very distinct. He was imagining a great heap of +happiness—happiness with a body and soul, and he felt <i>himself</i> so +happy.</p> + +<p>A sound of lamentation disturbed him.</p> + +<p>"Why do they weep?" he wondered. "Every one will have a good +time—everyone!"</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes; there were already lights burning. The room was +packed with people. Beside him stood all his children, come together to +take leave of their father.</p> + +<p>He fixed his gaze on the little grandchildren, a gaze of love and +gladness.</p> + +<p>"<i>They</i> will see the happy time," he thought.</p> + +<p>He was just going to ask the people to stop lamenting, but at that +moment his eye caught the workmen of the evening before.</p> + +<p>"Come here, come here, children!" and he raised his voice a little, and +made a sign with his head. People<a name="page_353" id="page_353"></a> did not know what he meant. He begged +them to send the workmen to him, and it was done.</p> + +<p>He tried to sit up; those around helped him.</p> + +<p>"Thank you—children—for coming—thank you!" he said. "Stop—weeping!" +he implored of the bystanders. "I want to die quietly—I want every one +to—to—be as happy—as I am! Live, all of you, in the—hope of a—good +time—as I die—in—that hope. Dear chil—dren—" and he turned to the +workmen, "I told you—last night—how man has lived so far. How he lives +now, you know for yourselves—but the coming time will be a very happy +one: all will be happy—all! Only work honestly, and learn! Learn, +children! Everything will be all right! All will be hap——"</p> + +<p>A sweet smile appeared on his lips, and Reb Shloimeh died.</p> + +<p>In the town they—but what else <i>could</i> they say in the town of a man +who had died without repeating the Confession, without a tremor at his +heart, without any sign of repentance? What else <i>could</i> they say of a +man who spent his last minutes in telling people to learn, to educate +themselves? What else <i>could</i> they say of a man who left his whole +capital to be devoted to educational purposes and schools?</p> + +<p>What was to be expected of them, when his own family declared in court +that their father was not responsible when he made his last will?</p> + +<p class="top5">Forgive them, Reb Shloimeh, for they mean well—they know not what they +say and do.</p> + +<p><a name="page_354" id="page_354"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_355" id="page_355"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="S_LIBIN" id="S_LIBIN"></a>S. LIBIN</h3> + +<p>Pen name of Israel Hurewitz; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government of +Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; assistant to a druggist at thirteen; +went to London at twenty, and, after seven months there, to New York +(1893); worked as capmaker; first sketch, "A Sifz vun a Arbeiterbrust"; +contributor to Die Arbeiterzeitung, Das Abendblatt, Die Zukunft, +Vorwärts, etc.; prolific Yiddish playwright and writer of sketches on +New York Jewish life; dramas to the number of twenty-six produced on the +stage; collected works, Geklibene Skizzen, 1 vol., New York, 1902, and 2 +vols., New York, 1907.</p> + +<p><a name="page_356" id="page_356"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_357" id="page_357"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_PICNIC" id="A_PICNIC"></a>A PICNIC</h3> + +<p>Ask Shmuel, the capmaker, just for a joke, if he would like to come for +a picnic! He'll fly out at you as if you had invited him to a swing on +the gallows. The fact is, he and his Sarah once <i>went</i> for a picnic, and +the poor man will remember it all his days.</p> + +<p>It was on a Sabbath towards the end of August. Shmuel came home from +work, and said to his wife:</p> + +<p>"Sarah, dear!"</p> + +<p>"Well, husband?" was her reply.</p> + +<p>"I want to have a treat," said Shmuel, as though alarmed at the boldness +of the idea.</p> + +<p>"What sort of a treat? Shall you go to the swimming-bath to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Ett! What's the fun of that?"</p> + +<p>"Then, what have you thought of by way of an exception? A glass of ice +water for supper?"</p> + +<p>"Not that, either."</p> + +<p>"A whole siphon?"</p> + +<p>Shmuel denied with a shake of the head.</p> + +<p>"Whatever can it be!" wondered Sarah. "Are you going to fetch a pint of +beer?"</p> + +<p>"What should I want with beer?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to sleep on the roof?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong again!"</p> + +<p>"To buy some more carbolic acid, and drive out the bugs?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bad idea," observed Shmuel, "but that is not it, either."<a name="page_358" id="page_358"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, then, whatever is it, for goodness' sake! The moon?" asked Sarah, +beginning to lose patience. "What have you been and thought of? Tell me +once for all, and have done with it!"</p> + +<p>And Shmuel said:</p> + +<p>"Sarah, you know, we belong to a lodge."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do!" and Sarah gave him a look of mingled astonishment and +alarm. "It's not more than a week since you took a whole dollar there, +and I'm not likely to have forgotten what it cost you to make it up. +What is the matter now? Do they want another?"</p> + +<p>"Try again!"</p> + +<p>"Out with it!"</p> + +<p>"I—want us, Sarah," stammered Shmuel,—"to go for a picnic."</p> + +<p>"A picnic!" screamed Sarah. "Is that the only thing you have left to +wish for?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Sarah, we toil and moil the whole year through. It's nothing +but trouble and worry, trouble and worry. Call that living! When do we +ever have a bit of pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what's to be done?" said his wife, in a subdued tone.</p> + +<p>"The summer will soon be over, and we haven't set eyes on a green blade +of grass. We sit day and night sweating in the dark."</p> + +<p>"True enough!" sighed his wife, and Shmuel spoke louder:</p> + +<p>"Let us have an outing, Sarah. Let us enjoy ourselves for once, and give +the children a breath of fresh air, let us have a change, if it's only +for five minutes!"<a name="page_359" id="page_359"></a></p> + +<p>"What will it cost?" asks Sarah, suddenly, and Shmuel has soon made the +necessary calculation.</p> + +<p>"A family ticket is only thirty cents, for Yossele, Rivele, Hannahle, +and Berele; for Resele and Doletzke I haven't to pay any carfare at all. +For you and me, it will be ten cents there and ten back—that makes +fifty cents. Then I reckon thirty cents for refreshments to take with +us: a pineapple (a damaged one isn't more than five cents), a few +bananas, a piece of watermelon, a bottle of milk for the children, and a +few rolls—the whole thing shouldn't cost us more than eighty cents at +the outside."</p> + +<p>"Eighty cents!" and Sarah clapped her hands together in dismay. "Why, +you can live on that two days, and it takes nearly a whole day's +earning. You can buy an old ice-box for eighty cents, you can buy a pair +of trousers—eighty cents!"</p> + +<p>"Leave off talking nonsense!" said Shmuel, disconcerted. "Eighty cents +won't make us rich. We shall get on just the same whether we have them +or not. We must live like human beings one day in the year! Come, Sarah, +let us go! We shall see lots of other people, and we'll watch them, and +see how <i>they</i> enjoy themselves. It will do you good to see the world, +to go where there's a bit of life! Listen, Sarah, what have you been to +worth seeing since we came to America? Have you seen Brooklyn Bridge, or +Central Park, or the Baron Hirsch baths?"</p> + +<p>"You know I haven't!" Sarah broke in. "I've no time to go about +sight-seeing. I only know the way from here to the market."<a name="page_360" id="page_360"></a></p> + +<p>"And what do you suppose?" cried Shmuel. "I should be as great a +greenhorn as you, if I hadn't been obliged to look everywhere for work. +Now I know that America is a great big place. Thanks to the slack times, +I know where there's an Eighth Street, and a One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street with tin works, and an Eighty-Fourth Street with a match factory. +I know every single lane round the World Building. I know where the +cable car line stops. But you, Sarah, know nothing at all, no more than +if you had just landed. Let us go, Sarah, I am sure you won't regret +it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know best!" said his wife, and this time she smiled. "Let us +go!"</p> + +<p>And thus it was that Shmuel and his wife decided to join the lodge +picnic on the following day.</p> + +<p>Next morning they all rose much earlier than usual on a Sunday, and +there was a great noise, for they took the children and scrubbed them +without mercy. Sarah prepared a bath for Doletzke, and Doletzke screamed +the house down. Shmuel started washing Yossele's feet, but as Yossele +habitually went barefoot, he failed to bring about any visible +improvement, and had to leave the little pair of feet to soak in a basin +of warm water, and Yossele cried, too. It was twelve o'clock before the +children were dressed and ready to start, and then Sarah turned her +attention to her husband, arranged his trousers, took the spots out of +his coat with kerosene, sewed a button onto his vest. After that she +dressed herself, in her old-fashioned satin wedding dress. At two +o'clock they set forth, and took their places in the car.<a name="page_361" id="page_361"></a></p> + +<p>"Haven't we forgotten anything?" asked Sarah of her husband.</p> + +<p>Shmuel counted his children and the traps. "No, nothing, Sarah!" he +said.</p> + +<p>Doletzke went to sleep, the other children sat quietly in their places. +Sarah, too, fell into a doze, for she was tired out with the +preparations for the excursion.</p> + +<p>All went smoothly till they got some way up town, when Sarah gave a +start.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel very well—my head is so dizzy," she said to Shmuel.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel very well, either," answered Shmuel. "I suppose the fresh +air has upset us."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it has," said his wife. "I'm afraid for the children."</p> + +<p>Scarcely had she spoken when Doletzke woke up, whimpering, and was sick. +Yossele, who was looking at her, began to cry likewise. The mother +scolded him, and this set the other children crying. The conductor cast +a wrathful glance at poor Shmuel, who was so frightened that he dropped +the hand-bag with the provisions, and then, conscious of the havoc he +had certainly brought about inside the bag by so doing, he lost his head +altogether, and sat there in a daze. Sarah was hushing the children, but +the look in her eyes told Shmuel plainly enough what to expect once they +had left the car. And no sooner had they all reached the ground in +safety than Sarah shot out:</p> + +<p>"So, nothing would content him but a picnic? Much good may it do him! +You're a workman, and workmen have no call to go gadding about!"<a name="page_362" id="page_362"></a></p> + +<p>Shmuel was already weary of the whole thing, and said nothing, but he +felt a tightening of the heart.</p> + +<p>He took up Yossele on one arm and Resele on the other, and carried the +bag with the presumably smashed-up contents besides.</p> + +<p>"Hush, my dears! Hush, my babies!" he said. "Wait a little and mother +will give you some bread and sugar. Hush, be quiet!" He went on, but +still the children cried.</p> + +<p>Sarah carried Doletzke, and rocked her as she walked, while Berele and +Hannahle trotted alongside.</p> + +<p>"He has shortened my days," said Sarah, "may his be shortened likewise."</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards they turned into the park.</p> + +<p>"Let us find a tree and sit down in the shade," said Shmuel. "Come, +Sarah!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the strength to drag myself a step further," declared Sarah, +and she sank down like a stone just inside the gate. Shmuel was about to +speak, but a glance at Sarah's face told him she was worn out, and he +sat down beside his wife without a word. Sarah gave Doletzke the breast. +The other children began to roll about in the grass, laughed and played, +and Shmuel breathed easier.</p> + +<p>Girls in holiday attire walked about the park, and there were groups +under the trees. Here was a handsome girl surrounded by admiring boys, +and there a handsome young man encircled by a bevy of girls.</p> + +<p>Out of the leafy distance of the park came the melancholy song of a +workman; near by stood a man playing on a fiddle. Sarah looked about her +and listened, and<a name="page_363" id="page_363"></a> by degrees her vexation vanished. It is true that her +heart was still sore, but it was not with the soreness of anger. She was +taking her life to pieces and thinking it over, and it seemed a very +hard and bitter one, and when she looked at her husband and thought of +his life, she was near crying, and she laid her hands upon his knee.</p> + +<p>Shmuel also sat lost in thought. He was thinking about the trees and the +roses and the grass, and listening to the fiddle. And he also was sad at +heart.</p> + +<p>"O Sarah!" he sighed, and he would have said more, but just at that +moment it began to spot with rain, and before they had time to move +there came a downpour. People started to scurry in all directions, but +Shmuel stood like a statue.</p> + +<p>"Shlimm-mazel, look after the children!" commanded Sarah. Shmuel caught +up two of them, Sarah another two or three, and they ran to a shelter. +Doletzke began to cry afresh.</p> + +<p>"Mame, hungry!" began Berele.</p> + +<p>"Hungry, hungry!" wailed Yossele. "I want to eat!"</p> + +<p>Shmuel hastily opened the hand-bag, and then for the first time he saw +what had really happened: the bottle had broken, and the milk was +flooding the bag; the rolls and bananas were soaked, and the pineapple +(a damaged one to begin with) looked too nasty for words. Sarah caught +sight of the bag, and was so angry, she was at a loss how to wreak +vengeance on her husband. She was ashamed to scream and scold in the +presence of other people, but she went up to him,<a name="page_364" id="page_364"></a> and whispered +fervently into his ear, "The same to you, my good man!"</p> + +<p>The children continued to clamor for food.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the refreshment counter and buy a glass of milk and a few +rolls," said Shmuel to his wife.</p> + +<p>"Have you actually some money left?" asked Sarah. "I thought it had all +been spent on the picnic."</p> + +<p>"There are just five cents over."</p> + +<p>"Well, then go and be quick about it. The poor things are starving."</p> + +<p>Shmuel went to the refreshment stall, and asked the price of a glass of +milk and a few rolls.</p> + +<p>"Twenty cents, mister," answered the waiter.</p> + +<p>Shmuel started as if he had burnt his finger, and returned to his wife +more crestfallen than ever.</p> + +<p>"Well, Shlimm-mazel, where's the milk?" inquired Sarah.</p> + +<p>"He asked twenty cents."</p> + +<p>"Twenty cents for a glass of milk and a roll? Are you Montefiore?" Sarah +could no longer contain herself. "They'll be the ruin of us! If you want +to go for another picnic, we shall have to sell the bedding."</p> + +<p>The children never stopped begging for something to eat.</p> + +<p>"But what are we to do?" asked the bewildered Shmuel.</p> + +<p>"Do?" screamed Sarah. "Go home, this very minute!"</p> + +<p>Shmuel promptly caught up a few children, and they left the park. Sarah +was quite quiet on the way home, merely remarking to her husband that +she would settle her account with him later.<a name="page_365" id="page_365"></a></p> + +<p>"I'll pay you out," she said, "for my satin dress, for the hand-bag, for +the pineapple, for the bananas, for the milk, for the whole blessed +picnic, for the whole of my miserable existence."</p> + +<p>"Scold away!" answered Shmuel. "It is you who were right. I don't know +what possessed me. A picnic, indeed! You may well ask what next? A poor +wretched workman like me has no business to think of anything beyond the +shop."</p> + +<p>Sarah, when they reached home, was as good as her word. Shmuel would +have liked some supper, as he always liked it, even in slack times, but +there was no supper given him. He went to bed a hungry man, and all +through the night he repeated in his sleep:</p> + +<p>"A picnic, oi, a picnic!"<a name="page_366" id="page_366"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="MANASSEH" id="MANASSEH"></a>MANASSEH</h3> + +<p>It was a stifling summer evening. I had just come home from work, taken +off my coat, unbuttoned my waistcoat, and sat down panting by the window +of my little room.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for my reply, in came +a woman with yellow hair, and very untidy in her dress.</p> + +<p>I judged from her appearance that she had not come from a distance. She +had nothing on her head, her sleeves were tucked up, she held a ladle in +her hand, and she was chewing something or other.</p> + +<p>"I am Manasseh's wife," said she.</p> + +<p>"Manasseh Gricklin's?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said my visitor, "Gricklin's, Gricklin's."</p> + +<p>I hastily slipped on a coat, and begged her to be seated.</p> + +<p>Manasseh was an old friend of mine, he was a capmaker, and we worked +together in one shop.</p> + +<p>And I knew that he lived somewhere in the same tenement as myself, but +it was the first time I had the honor of seeing his wife.</p> + +<p>"Look here," began the woman, "don't you work in the same shop as my +husband?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," I said.</p> + +<p>"Well, and now tell me," and the yellow-haired woman gave a bound like a +hyena, "how is it I see you come home from work with all other +respectable people, and my husband not? And it isn't the first time, +either,<a name="page_367" id="page_367"></a> that he's gone, goodness knows where, and come home two hours +after everyone else. Where's he loitering about?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I replied gravely.</p> + +<p>The woman brandished her ladle in such a way that I began to think she +meant murder.</p> + +<p>"You don't know?" she exclaimed with a sinister flash in her eyes. "What +do you mean by that? Don't you two leave the shop together? How can you +help seeing what becomes of him?"</p> + +<p>Then I remembered that when Manasseh and I left the shop, he walked with +me a few blocks, and then went off in another direction, and that one +day, when I asked him where he was going, he had replied, "To some +friends."</p> + +<p>"He must go to some friends," I said to the woman.</p> + +<p>"To some friends?" she repeated, and burst into strange laughter. "Who? +Whose? Ours? We're greeners, we are, we have no friends. What friends +should he have, poor, miserable wretch?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I said, "but that is what he told me."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Manasseh's wife. "I'll teach him a lesson he won't +forget in a hurry."</p> + +<p>With these words she departed.</p> + +<p>When she had left the room, I pictured to myself poor consumptive +Manasseh being taught a "lesson" by his yellow-haired wife, and I pitied +him.</p> + +<p>Manasseh was a man of about thirty. His yellowish-white face was set in +a black beard; he was very thin, always ailing and coughing, had never +learnt to write,<a name="page_368" id="page_368"></a> and he read only Yiddish—a quiet, respectable man, I +might almost say the only hand in the shop who never grudged a +fellow-worker his livelihood. He had been only a year in the country, +and the others made sport of him, but I always stood up for him, because +I liked him very much.</p> + +<p>Wherever does he go, now? I wondered to myself, and I resolved to find +out.</p> + +<p>Next morning I met Manasseh as usual, and at first I intended to tell +him of his wife's visit to me the day before; but the poor operative +looked so low-spirited, so thoroughly unhappy, that I felt sure his wife +had already given him the promised "lesson," and I hadn't the courage to +mention her to him just then.</p> + +<p>In the evening, as we were going home from the workshop, Manasseh said +to me:</p> + +<p>"Did my wife come to see you yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Brother Manasseh," I answered. "She seemed something annoyed with +you."</p> + +<p>"She has a dreadful temper," observed the workman. "When she is really +angry, she's fit to kill a man. But it's her bitter heart, poor +thing—she's had so many troubles! We're so poor, and she's far away +from her family."</p> + +<p>Manasseh gave a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"She asked you where I go other days after work?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Why not, Mister Gricklin!"</p> + +<p>"Come along a few blocks further," said Manasseh, "and I'll show you."<a name="page_369" id="page_369"></a></p> + +<p>"Come along!" I agreed, and we walked on together.</p> + +<p>A few more blocks and Manasseh led me into a narrow street, not yet +entirely built in with houses.</p> + +<p>Presently he stopped, with a contented smile. I looked round in some +astonishment. We were standing alongside a piece of waste ground, with a +meagre fencing of stones and burnt wire, and utilized as a garden.</p> + +<p>"Just look," said the workman, pointing at the garden, "how delightful +it is! One so seldom sees anything of the kind in New York."</p> + +<p>Manasseh went nearer to the fence, and his eyes wandered thirstily over +the green, flowering plants, just then in full beauty. I also looked at +the garden. The things that grew there were unknown to me, and I was +ignorant of their names. Only one thing had a familiar look—a few tall, +graceful "moons" were scattered here and there over the place, and stood +like absent-minded dreamers, or beautiful sentinels. And the roses were +in bloom, and their fragrance came in wafts over the fencing.</p> + +<p>"You see the 'moons'?" asked Manasseh, in rapt tones, but more to +himself than to me. "Look how beautiful they are! I can't take my eyes +off them. I am capable of standing and looking at them for hours. They +make me feel happy, almost as if I were at home again. There were a lot +of them at home!"</p> + +<p>The operative sighed, lost himself a moment in thought, and then said:</p> + +<p>"When I smell the roses, I think of old days. We had quite a large +garden, and I was so fond of it!<a name="page_370" id="page_370"></a> When the flowers began to come out, I +used to sit there for hours, and could never look at it enough. The +roses appeared to be dreaming with their great golden eyes wide open. +The cucumbers lay along the ground like pussy-cats, and the stalks and +leaves spread ever so far across the beds. The beans fought for room +like street urchins, and the pumpkins and the potatoes—you should have +seen them! And the flowers were all colors—pink and blue and yellow, +and I felt as if everything were alive, as if the whole garden were +alive—I fancied I heard them talking together, the roses, the potatoes, +the beans. I spent whole evenings in my garden. It was dear to me as my +own soul. Look, look, look, don't the roses seem as if they were alive?"</p> + +<p>But I looked at Manasseh, and thought the consumptive workman had grown +younger and healthier. His face was less livid, and his eyes shone with +happiness.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said Manasseh to me, as we walked away from the garden, +"I had some cuttings of rose-trees at home, in a basket out on the +fire-escape, and they had begun to bud."</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Well," I inquired, "and what happened?"</p> + +<p>"My wife laid out the mattress to air on the top of the basket, and they +were all crushed."</p> + +<p>Manasseh made an outward gesture with his hand, and I asked no more +questions.</p> + +<p>The poky, stuffy shop in which he worked came into my mind, and my heart +was sore for him.<a name="page_371" id="page_371"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="YOHRZEIT_FOR_MOTHER" id="YOHRZEIT_FOR_MOTHER"></a>YOHRZEIT FOR MOTHER</h3> + +<p>The Ginzburgs' first child died of inflammation of the lungs when it was +two years and three months old.</p> + +<p>The young couple were in the depths of grief and despair—they even +thought seriously of committing suicide.</p> + +<p>But people do not do everything they think of doing. Neither Ginzburg +nor his wife had the courage to throw themselves into the cold and +grizzly arms of death. They only despaired, until, some time after, a +newborn child bound them once more to life.</p> + +<p>It was a little girl, and they named her Dvoreh, after Ginzburg's dead +mother.</p> + +<p>The Ginzburgs were both free-thinkers in the full sense of the word, and +their naming the child after the dead had no superstitious significance +whatever.</p> + +<p>It came about quite simply.</p> + +<p>"Dobinyu," Ginzburg had asked his wife, "how shall we call our +daughter?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied the young mother.</p> + +<p>"No more do I," said Ginzburg.</p> + +<p>"Let us call her Dvorehle," suggested Dobe, automatically, gazing at her +pretty baby, and very little concerned about its name.</p> + +<p>Had Ginzburg any objection to make? None at all, and the child's name +was Dvorehle henceforward. When the first child had lived to be a year +old, the parents had made a feast-day, and invited guests to celebrate +their first-born's first birthday with them.<a name="page_372" id="page_372"></a></p> + +<p>With the second child it was not so.</p> + +<p>The Ginzburgs loved their Dvorehle, loved her painfully, infinitely, but +when it came to the anniversary of her birth they made no rejoicings.</p> + +<p>I do not think I shall be going too far if I say they did not dare to do +so.</p> + +<p>Dvorehle was an uncommon child: a bright girlie, sweet-tempered, pretty, +and clever, the light of the house, shining into its every corner. She +could be a whole world of delight to her parents, this wee Dvorehle. But +it was not the delight, not the happiness they had known with the first +child, not the same. <i>That</i> had been so free, so careless. Now it was +different: terrible pictures of death, of a child's death, would rise up +in the midst of their joy, and their gladness suddenly ended in a heavy +sigh. They would be at the height of enchantment, kissing and hugging +the child and laughing aloud, they would be singing to it and romping +with it, everything else would be forgotten. Then, without wishing to do +so, they would suddenly remember that not so long ago it was another +child, also a girl, that went off into just the same silvery little +bursts of laughter—and now, where is it?—dead! O how it goes through +the heart! The parents turn pale in the midst of their merrymaking, the +mother's eyes fill with tears, and the father's head droops.</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" sighs Dobe, looking at their little laughing Dvorehle. "Who +knows?"</p> + +<p>Ginzburg understands the meaning of her question and is silent, because +he is afraid to say anything in reply.<a name="page_373" id="page_373"></a></p> + +<p>It seems to me that parents who have buried their first-born can never +be really happy again.</p> + +<p>So Dvorehle's first birthday was allowed to pass as it were unnoticed. +When it came to her second, it was nearly the same thing, only Dobe +said, "Ginzburg, when our daughter is three years old, then we will have +great rejoicings!"</p> + +<p>They waited for the day with trembling hearts. Their child's third year +was full of terror for them, because their eldest-born had died in her +third year, and they felt as though it must be the most dangerous one +for their second child.</p> + +<p>A dreadful conviction began to haunt them both, only they were afraid to +confess it one to the other. This conviction, this fixed idea of theirs, +was that when Dvorehle reached the age of their eldest child when it +died, Death would once more call their household to mind.</p> + +<p>Dvorehle grew to be two years and eight months old. O it was a terrible +time! And—and the child fell ill, with inflammation of the lungs, just +like the other one.</p> + +<p>O pictures that arose and stood before the parents! O terror, O +calamity! They were free-thinkers, the Ginzburgs, and if any one had +told them that they were not free from what they called superstition, +that the belief in a Higher Power beyond our understanding still had a +root in their being, if you had spoken thus to Ginzburg or to his wife, +they would have laughed at you, both of them, out of the depths of a +full heart and with laughter more serious than many another's words. But +what happened now is wonderful to tell.<a name="page_374" id="page_374"></a></p> + +<p>Dobe, sitting by the sick child's cot, began to speak, gravely, and as +in a dream:</p> + +<p>"Who knows? Who knows? Perhaps? Perhaps?" She did not conclude.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps what?" asked Ginzburg, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Why should it come like this?" Dobe went on. "The same time, the same +sickness?"</p> + +<p>"A simple blind coincidence of circumstances," replied her husband.</p> + +<p>"But so exactly—one like the other, as if somebody had made it happen +on purpose."</p> + +<p>Ginzburg understood his wife's meaning, and answered short and sharp:</p> + +<p>"Dobe, don't talk nonsense."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Dvorehle's illness developed, and the day came on which the +doctor said that a crisis would occur within twenty-four hours. What +this meant to the Ginzburgs would be difficult to describe, but each of +them determined privately not to survive the loss of their second child.</p> + +<p>They sat beside it, not lifting their eyes from its face. They were pale +and dazed with grief and sleepless nights, their hearts half-dead within +them, they shed no tears, they were so much more dead than alive +themselves, and the child's flame of life flickered and dwindled, +flickered and dwindled.</p> + +<p>A tangle of memories was stirring in Ginzburg's head, all relating to +deaths and graves. He lived through the death of their first child with +all details—his father's death, his mother's—early in a summer +morning—that was—that was—he recalls it—as though it were to-day.<a name="page_375" id="page_375"></a></p> + +<p>"What is to-day?" he wonders. "What day of the month is it?" And then he +remembers, it is the first of May.</p> + +<p>"The same day," he murmurs, as if he were talking in his sleep.</p> + +<p>"What the same day?" asks Dobe.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," says Ginzburg. "I was thinking of something."</p> + +<p>He went on thinking, and fell into a doze where he sat.</p> + +<p>He saw his mother enter the room with a soft step, take a chair, and sit +down by the sick child.</p> + +<p>"Mother, save it!" he begs her, his heart is full to bursting, and he +begins to cry.</p> + +<p>"Isrolik," says his mother, "I have brought a remedy for the child that +bears my name."</p> + +<p>"Mame!!!"</p> + +<p>He is about to throw himself upon her neck and kiss her, but she motions +him lightly aside.</p> + +<p>"Why do you never light a candle for my Yohrzeit?" she inquires, and +looks at him reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Mame, have pity on us, save the child!"</p> + +<p>"The child will live, only you must light me a candle."</p> + +<p>"Mame" (he sobs louder), "have pity!"</p> + +<p>"Light my candle—make haste, make haste—"</p> + +<p>"Ginzburg!" a shriek from his wife, and he awoke with a start.</p> + +<p>"Ginzburg, the child is dying! Fly for the doctor."</p> + +<p>Ginzburg cast a look at the child, a chill went through him, he ran to +the door.<a name="page_376" id="page_376"></a></p> + +<p>The doctor came in person.</p> + +<p>"Our child is dying! Help save it!" wailed the unhappy mother, and he, +Ginzburg, stood and shivered as with cold.</p> + +<p>The doctor scrutinized the child, and said:</p> + +<p>"The crisis is coming on." There was something dreadful in the quiet of +his tone.</p> + +<p>"What can be done?" and the Ginzburgs wrung their hands.</p> + +<p>"Hush! Nothing! Bring some hot water, bottles of hot +water!—Champagne!—Where is the medicine? Quick!" commanded the doctor.</p> + +<p>Everything was to hand and ready in an instant.</p> + +<p>The doctor began to busy himself with the child, the parents stood by +pale as death.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked Dobe, "what?"</p> + +<p>"We shall soon know," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>Ginzburg looked round, glided like a shadow into a corner of the room, +and lit the little lamp that stood there.</p> + +<p>"What is that for?" asked Dobe, in a fright.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Yohrzeit—my mother's," he answered in a strange voice, and +his hands never ceased trembling.</p> + +<p>"Your child will live," said the doctor, and father and mother fell upon +the child's bed with their faces, and wept.</p> + +<p>The flame in the lamp burnt brighter and brighter.<a name="page_377" id="page_377"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="SLACK_TIMES_THEY_SLEEP" id="SLACK_TIMES_THEY_SLEEP"></a>SLACK TIMES THEY SLEEP</h3> + +<p>Despite the fact of the winter nights being long and dark as the Jewish +exile, the Breklins go to bed at dusk.</p> + +<p>But you may as well know that when it is dusk outside in the street, the +Breklins are already "way on" in the night, because they live in a +basement, separated from the rest of the world by an air-shaft, and when +the sun gathers his beams round him before setting, the first to be +summoned are those down the Breklins' shaft, because of the time +required for them to struggle out again.</p> + +<p>The same thing in the morning, only reversed. People don't usually get +up, if they can help it, before it is really light, and so it comes to +pass that when other people have left their beds, and are going about +their business, the Breklins are still asleep and making the long, long +night longer yet.</p> + +<p>If you ask me, "How is it they don't wear their sides out with lying in +bed?" I shall reply: They <i>do</i> rise with aching sides, and if you say, +"How can people be so lazy?" I can tell you, They don't do it out of +laziness, and they lie awake a great part of the time.</p> + +<p>What's the good of lying in bed if one isn't asleep?</p> + +<p>There you have it in a nutshell—it's a question of the economic +conditions. The Breklins are very poor, their life is a never-ending +struggle with poverty, and they have come to the conclusion that the +cheapest way of waging it, and especially in winter, is to lie in<a name="page_378" id="page_378"></a> bed +under a great heap of old clothes and rags of every description.</p> + +<p>Breklin is a house-painter, and from Christmas to Purim (I beg to +distinguish!) work is dreadfully slack. When you're not earning a +crooked penny, what are you to do?</p> + +<p>In the first place, you must live on "cash," that is, on the few dollars +scraped together and put by during the "season," and in the second +place, you must cut down your domestic expenses, otherwise the money +won't hold out, and then you might as well keep your teeth in a drawer.</p> + +<p>But you may neither eat nor drink, nor live at all to mention—if it's +winter, the money goes all the same: it's bitterly cold, and you can't +do without the stove, and the nights are long, and you want a lamp.</p> + +<p>And the Breklins saw that their money would <i>not</i> hold out till +Purim—that their Fast of Esther would be too long. Coal was beyond +them, and kerosene as dear as wine, and yet how could they possibly +spend less? How could they do without a fire when it was so cold? +Without a lamp when it was so dark? And the Breklins had an "idea"!</p> + +<p>Why sit up at night and watch the stove and the lamp burning away their +money, when they might get into bed, bury themselves in rags, and defy +both poverty and cold? There is nothing in particular to do, anyhow. +What should there be, a long winter evening through? Nothing! They only +sat and poured out the bitterness in their heart one upon the other,<a name="page_379" id="page_379"></a> +quarrelled, and scolded. They could do that in bed just as well, and +save firing and light into the bargain.</p> + +<p>So, at the first approach of darkness, the bed was made ready for Mr. +Breklin, and his wife put to sleep their only, three-year-old child. +Avremele did not understand why he was put to bed so early, but he asked +no questions. The room began to feel cold, and the poor little thing was +glad to nestle deep into the bedcoverings.</p> + +<p>The lamp and the fire were extinguished, the stove would soon go out of +itself, and the Breklin family slept.</p> + +<p>They slept, and fought against poverty by lying in bed.</p> + +<p>It was waging cheap warfare.</p> + +<p class="top5">Having had his first sleep out, Breklin turns to his wife:</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose the time to be now, Yudith?"</p> + +<p>Yudith listens attentively.</p> + +<p>"It must be past eight o'clock," she says.</p> + +<p>"What makes you think so?" asks Breklin.</p> + +<p>"Don't you hear the clatter of knives and forks? Well-to-do folk are +having supper."</p> + +<p>"We also used to have supper about this time, in the Tsisin," said +Breklin, and he gave a deep sigh of longing.</p> + +<p>"We shall soon forget the good times altogether," says Yudith, and +husband and wife set sail once more for the land of dreams.</p> + +<p>A few hours later Breklin wakes with a groan.<a name="page_380" id="page_380"></a></p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" inquires Yudith.</p> + +<p>"My sides ache with lying."</p> + +<p>"Mine, too," says Yudith, and they both begin yawning.</p> + +<p>"What o'clock would it be now?" wonders Breklin, and Yudith listens +again.</p> + +<p>"About ten o'clock," she tells him.</p> + +<p>"No later? I don't believe it. It must be a great deal later than that."</p> + +<p>"Well, listen for yourself," persists Yudith, "and you'll hear the +housekeeper upstairs scolding somebody. She's putting out the gas in the +hall."</p> + +<p>"Oi, weh is mir! How the night drags!" sighs Breklin, and turns over +onto his other side.</p> + +<p>Yudith goes on talking, but as much to herself as to him:</p> + +<p>"Upstairs they are still all alive, and we are asleep in bed."</p> + +<p>"Weh is mir, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin over and over, and once more +there is silence.</p> + +<p>The night wears on.</p> + +<p>"Are you asleep?" asks Breklin, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were! Who could sleep through such a long night? I'm lying +awake and racking my brains."</p> + +<p>"What over?" asks Breklin, interested.</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to think," explains Yudith, "what we can have for dinner +to-morrow that will cost nothing, and yet be satisfying."</p> + +<p>"Oi, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin again, and is at a loss what to advise.</p> + +<p>"I wonder" (this time it is Yudith) "what o'clock it is now!"<a name="page_381" id="page_381"></a></p> + +<p>"It will soon be morning," is Breklin's opinion.</p> + +<p>"Morning? Nonsense!" Yudith knows better.</p> + +<p>"It must be morning soon!" He holds to it.</p> + +<p>"You are very anxious for the morning," says Yudith, good-naturedly, +"and so you think it will soon be here, and I tell you, it's not +midnight yet."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about? You don't know what you're saying! I shall +go out of my mind."</p> + +<p>"You know," says Yudith, "that Avremele always wakes at midnight and +cries, and he's still fast asleep."</p> + +<p>"No, Mame," comes from under Avremele's heap of rags.</p> + +<p>"Come to me, my beauty! So he was awake after all!" and Yudith reaches +out her arms for the child.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he's cold," says Breklin.</p> + +<p>"Are you cold, sonny?" asks Yudith.</p> + +<p>"Cold, Mame!" replies Avremele.</p> + +<p>Yudith wraps the coverlets closer and closer round him, and presses him +to her side.</p> + +<p>And the night wears on.</p> + +<p>"O my sides!" groans Breklin.</p> + +<p>"Mine, too!" moans Yudith, and they start another conversation.</p> + +<p>One time they discuss their neighbors; another time the Breklins try to +calculate how long it is since they married, how much they spend a week +on an average, and what was the cost of Yudith's confinement.</p> + +<p>It is seldom they calculate anything right, but talking helps to while +away time, till the basement begins to lighten, whereupon the Breklins +jump out of bed, as though it were some perilous hiding-place, and set +to work in a great hurry to kindle the stove.</p> + +<p><a name="page_382" id="page_382"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_383" id="page_383"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ABRAHAM_RAISIN" id="ABRAHAM_RAISIN"></a>ABRAHAM RAISIN</h3> + +<p>Born, 1876, in Kaidanov, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White Russia; +traditional Jewish education; self-taught in Russian language; teacher +at fifteen, first in Kaidanov, then in Minsk; first poem published in +Perez's Jüdische Bibliothek, in 1891; served in the army, in Kovno, for +four years; went to Warsaw in 1900, and to New York in 1911; Yiddish +lyric poet and novelist; occasionally writes Hebrew; contributor to +Spektor's Hausfreund, New York Abendpost, and New York Arbeiterzeitung; +co-editor of Das zwanzigste Jahrhundert; in 1903, published and edited, +in Cracow, Das jüdische Wort, first to urge the claim of Yiddish as the +national Jewish language; publisher and editor, since 1911, of Dos neie +Land, in New York; collected works (poems and tales), 4 vols., Warsaw, +1908-1912.</p> + +<p><a name="page_384" id="page_384"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_385" id="page_385"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="SHUT_IN" id="SHUT_IN"></a>SHUT IN</h3> + +<p>Lebele is a little boy ten years old, with pale cheeks, liquid, dreamy +eyes, and black hair that falls in twisted ringlets, but, of course, the +ringlets are only seen when his hat falls off, for Lebele is a pious +little boy, who never uncovers his head.</p> + +<p>There are things that Lebele loves and never has, or else he has them +only in part, and that is why his eyes are always dreamy and troubled, +and always full of longing.</p> + +<p>He loves the summer, and sits the whole day in Cheder. He loves the sun, +and the Rebbe hangs his caftan across the window, and the Cheder is +darkened, so that it oppresses the soul. Lebele loves the moon, the +night, but at home they close the shutters, and Lebele, on his little +bed, feels as if he were buried alive. And Lebele cannot understand +people's behaving so oddly.</p> + +<p>It seems to him that when the sun shines in at the window, it is a +delight, it is so pleasant and cheerful, and the Rebbe goes and curtains +it—no more sun! If Lebele dared, he would ask:</p> + +<p>"What ails you, Rebbe, at the sun? What harm can it do you?"</p> + +<p>But Lebele will never put that question: the Rebbe is such a great and +learned man, he must know best. Ai, how dare he, Lebele, disapprove? He +is only a little boy. When he is grown up, he will doubtless curtain the +window himself. But as things are now,<a name="page_386" id="page_386"></a> Lebele is not happy, and feels +sadly perplexed at the behavior of his elders.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening, he comes home from Cheder. The sun has already set, +the street is cheerful and merry, the cockchafers whizz and, flying, hit +him on the nose, the ear, the forehead.</p> + +<p>He would like to play about a bit in the street, let them have supper +without him, but he is afraid of his father. His father is a kind man +when he talks to strangers, he is so gentle, so considerate, so +confidential. But to him, to Lebele, he is very unkind, always shouting +at him, and if Lebele comes from Cheder a few minutes late, he will be +angry.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been, my fine fellow? Have you business anywhere?"</p> + +<p>Now go and tell him that it is not at all so bad out in the street, that +it's a pleasure to hear how the cockchafers whirr, that even the hits +they give you on the wing are friendly, and mean, "Hallo, old fellow!" +Of course it's a wild absurdity! It amuses him, because he is only a +little boy, while his father is a great man, who trades in wood and +corn, and who always knows the current prices—when a thing is dearer +and when it is cheaper. His father can speak the Gentile language, and +drive bargains, his father understands the Prussian weights. Is that a +man to be thought lightly of? Go and tell him, if you dare, that it's +delightful now out in the street.</p> + +<p>And Lebele hurries straight home. When he has reached it, his father +asks him how many chapters he has mastered, and if he answers five, his +father hums<a name="page_387" id="page_387"></a> a tune without looking at him; but if he says only three, +his father is angry, and asks:</p> + +<p>"How's that? Why so little, ha?"</p> + +<p>And Lebele is silent, and feels guilty before his father.</p> + +<p>After that his father makes him translate a Hebrew word.</p> + +<p>"Translate <i>Kimlùnah</i>!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Kimlùnah</i> means 'like a passing the night,'" answers Lebele, +terrified.</p> + +<p>His father is silent—a sign that he is satisfied—and they sit down to +supper. Lebele's father keeps an eye on him the whole time, and +instructs him how to eat.</p> + +<p>"Is that how you hold your spoon?" inquires the father, and Lebele holds +the spoon lower, and the food sticks in his throat.</p> + +<p>After supper Lebele has to say grace aloud and in correct Hebrew, +according to custom. If he mumbles a word, his father calls out:</p> + +<p>"What did I hear? what? once more, 'Wherewith Thou dost feed and sustain +us.' Well, come, say it! Don't be in a hurry, it won't burn you!"</p> + +<p>And Lebele says it over again, although he <i>is</i> in a great hurry, +although he longs to run out into the street, and the words <i>do</i> seem to +burn him.</p> + +<p>When it is dark, he repeats the Evening Prayer by lamplight; his father +is always catching him making a mistake, and Lebele has to keep all his +wits about him. The moon, round and shining, is already floating through +the sky, and Lebele repeats the prayers, and looks at her, and longs +after the street, and he gets confused in his praying.<a name="page_388" id="page_388"></a></p> + +<p>Prayers over, he escapes out of the house, puzzling over some question +in the Talmud against the morrow's lesson. He delays there a while +gazing at the moon, as she pours her pale beams onto the Gass. But he +soon hears his father's voice:</p> + +<p>"Come indoors, to bed!"</p> + +<p>It is warm outside, there is not a breath of air stirring, and yet it +seems to Lebele as though a wind came along with his father's words, and +he grows cold, and he goes in like one chilled to the bone, takes his +stand by the window, and stares at the moon.</p> + +<p>"It is time to close the shutters—there's nothing to sit up for!" +Lebele hears his father say, and his heart sinks. His father goes out, +and Lebele sees the shutters swing to, resist, as though they were being +closed against their will, and presently there is a loud bang. No more +moon!—his father has hidden it!</p> + +<p>A while after, the lamp has been put out, the room is dark, and all are +asleep but Lebele, whose bed is by the window. He cannot sleep, he wants +to be in the street, whence sounds come in through the chinks. He tries +to sit up in bed, to peer out, also through the chinks, and even to open +a bit of the shutter, without making any noise, and to look, look, but +without success, for just then his father wakes and calls out:</p> + +<p>"What are you after there, eh? Do you want me to come with the strap?"</p> + +<p>And Lebele nestles quietly down again into his pillow, pulls the +coverlet over his head, and feels as though he were buried alive.<a name="page_389" id="page_389"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_CHARITABLE_LOAN" id="THE_CHARITABLE_LOAN"></a>THE CHARITABLE LOAN</h3> + +<p>The largest fair in Klemenke is "Ulas." The little town waits for Ulas +with a beating heart and extravagant hopes. "Ulas," say the Klemenke +shopkeepers and traders, "is a Heavenly blessing; were it not for Ulas, +Klemenke would long ago have been 'äus Klemenke,' America would have +taken its last few remaining Jews to herself."</p> + +<p>But for Ulas one must have the wherewithal—the shopkeepers need wares, +and the traders, money.</p> + +<p>Without the wherewithal, even Ulas is no good! And Chayyim, the dealer +in produce, goes about gloomily. There are only three days left before +Ulas, and he hasn't a penny wherewith to buy corn to trade with. And the +other dealers in produce circulate in the market-place with caps awry, +with thickly-rolled cigarettes in their mouths and walking-sticks in +their hands, and they are talking hard about the fair.</p> + +<p>"In three days it will be lively!" calls out one.</p> + +<p>"Pshshsh," cries another in ecstasy, "in three days' time the place will +be packed!"</p> + +<p>And Chayyim turns pale. He would like to call down a calamity on the +fair, he wishes it might rain, snow, or storm on that day, so that not +even a mad dog should come to the market-place; only Chayyim knows that +Ulas is no weakling, Ulas is not afraid of the strongest wind—Ulas is +Ulas!<a name="page_390" id="page_390"></a></p> + +<p>And Chayyim's eyes are ready to start out of his head. A charitable +loan—where is one to get a charitable loan? If only five and twenty +rubles!</p> + +<p>He asks it of everyone, but they only answer with a merry laugh:</p> + +<p>"Are you mad? Money—just before a fair?"</p> + +<p>And it seems to Chayyim that he really will go mad.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you went across to Loibe-Bäres?" suggests his wife, who takes +her full share in his distress.</p> + +<p>"I had thought of that myself," answers Chayyim, meditatively.</p> + +<p>"But what?" asks the wife.</p> + +<p>Chayyim is about to reply, "But I can't go there, I haven't the +courage," only that it doesn't suit him to be so frank with his wife, +and he answers:</p> + +<p>"Devil take him! He won't lend anything!"</p> + +<p>"Try! It won't hurt," she persists.</p> + +<p>And Chayyim reflects that he has no other resource, that Loibe-Bäres is +a rich man, and living in the same street, a neighbor in fact, and that +<i>he</i> requires no money for the fair, being a dealer in lumber and +timber.</p> + +<p>"Give me out my Sabbath overcoat!" says Chayyim to his wife, in a +resolute tone.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I say so?" the wife answers. "It's the best thing you can do, to +go to him."</p> + +<p>Chayyim placed himself before a half-broken looking-glass which was +nailed to the wall, smoothed his beard with both hands, tightened his +earlocks, and then took off his hat, and gave it a polish with his +sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Just look and see if I haven't got any white on my coat off the wall!"<a name="page_391" id="page_391"></a></p> + +<p>"If you haven't?" the wife answered, and began slapping him with both +hands over the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I thought we once had a little clothes-brush. Where is it? ha?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you dreamt it," replied his wife, still slapping him on the +shoulders, and she went on, "Well, I should say you had got some white +on your coat!"</p> + +<p>"Come, that'll do!" said Chayyim, almost angrily. "I'll go now."</p> + +<p>He drew on his Sabbath overcoat with a sigh, and muttering, "Very +likely, isn't it, he'll lend me money!" he went out.</p> + +<p>On the way to Loibe-Bäres, Chayyim's heart began to fail him. Since the +day that Loibe-Bäres came to live at the end of the street, Chayyim had +been in the house only twice, and the path Chayyim was treading now was +as bad as an examination: the "approach" to him, the light rooms, the +great mirrors, the soft chairs, Loibe-Bäres himself with his long, thick +beard and his black eyes with their "gevirish" glance, the lady, the +merry, happy children, even the maid, who had remained in his memory +since those two visits—all these things together terrified him, and he +asked himself, "Where are you going to? Are you mad? Home with you at +once!" and every now and then he would stop short on the way. Only the +thought that Ulas was near, and that he had no money to buy corn, drove +him to continue.</p> + +<p>"He won't lend anything—it's no use hoping." Chayyim was preparing +himself as he walked for the shock of disappointment; but he felt that +if he gave way to<a name="page_392" id="page_392"></a> that extent, he would never be able to open his mouth +to make his request known, and he tried to cheer himself:</p> + +<p>"If I catch him in a good humor, he will lend! Why should he be afraid +of lending me a few rubles over the fair? I shall tell him that as soon +as ever I have sold the corn, he shall have the loan back. I will swear +it by wife and children, he will believe me—and I will pay it back."</p> + +<p>But this does not make Chayyim any the bolder, and he tries another sort +of comfort, another remedy against nervousness.</p> + +<p>"He isn't a bad man—and, after all, our acquaintance won't date from +to-day—we've been living in the same street twenty years—Parabotzker +Street—"</p> + +<p>And Chayyim recollects that a fortnight ago, as Loibe-Bäres was passing +his house on his way to the market-place, and he, Chayyim, was standing +in the yard, he gave him the greeting due to a gentleman ("and I could +swear I gave him my hand," Chayyim reminded himself). Loibe-Bäres had +made a friendly reply, he had even stopped and asked, like an old +acquaintance, "Well, Chayyim, and how are you getting on?" And Chayyim +strains his memory and remembers further that he answered on this wise:</p> + +<p>"I thank you for asking! Heaven forgive me, one does a little bit of +business!"</p> + +<p>And Chayyim is satisfied with his reply, "I answered him quite at my +ease."</p> + +<p>Chayyim resolves to speak to him this time even more leisurely and +independently, not to cringe before him.<a name="page_393" id="page_393"></a></p> + +<p>Chayyim could already see Loibe-Bäres' house in the distance. He coughed +till his throat was clear, stroked his beard down, and looked at his +coat.</p> + +<p>"Still a very good coat!" he said aloud, as though trying to persuade +himself that the coat was still good, so that he might feel more courage +and more proper pride.</p> + +<p>But when he got to Loibe-Bäres' big house, when the eight large windows +looking onto the street flashed into his eyes, the windows being +brightly illuminated from within, his heart gave a flutter.</p> + +<p>"Oi, Lord of the World, help!" came of its own accord to his lips. Then +he felt ashamed, and caught himself up, "Ett, nonsense!"</p> + +<p>As he pushed the door open, the "prayer" escaped him once more, "Help, +mighty God! or it will be the death of me!"</p> + +<p class="top5">Loibe-Bäres was seated at a large table covered with a clean white +table-cloth, and drinking while he talked cheerfully with his household.</p> + +<p>"There's a Jew come, Tate!" called out a boy of twelve, on seeing +Chayyim standing by the door.</p> + +<p>"So there is!" called out a second little boy, still more merrily, +fixing Chayyim with his large, black, mischievous eyes.</p> + +<p>All the rest of those at table began looking at Chayyim, and he thought +every moment that he must fall of a heap onto the floor.</p> + +<p>"It will look very bad if I fall," he said to himself, made a step +forward, and, without saying good evening, stammered out:<a name="page_394" id="page_394"></a></p> + +<p>"I just happened to be passing, you understand, and I saw you +sitting—so I knew you were at home—well, I thought one ought to +call—neighbors—"</p> + +<p>"Well, welcome, welcome!" said Loibe-Bäres, smiling. "You've come at the +right moment. Sit down."</p> + +<p>A stone rolled off Chayyim's heart at this reply, and, with a glance at +the two little boys, he quietly took a seat.</p> + +<p>"Leah, give Reb Chayyim a glass of tea," commanded Loibe-Bäres.</p> + +<p>"Quite a kind man!" thought Chayyim. "May the Almighty come to his aid!"</p> + +<p>He gave his host a grateful look, and would gladly have fallen onto the +Gevir's thick neck, and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Well, and what are you about?" inquired his host.</p> + +<p>"Thanks be to God, one lives!"</p> + +<p>The maid handed him a glass of tea. He said, "Thank you," and then was +sorry: it is not the proper thing to thank a servant. He grew red and +bit his lips.</p> + +<p>"Have some jelly with it!" Loibe-Bäres suggested.</p> + +<p>"An excellent man, an excellent man!" thought Chayyim, astonished. "He +is sure to lend."</p> + +<p>"You deal in something?" asked Loibe-Bäres.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," answered Chayyim. "One's little bit of business, thank +Heaven, is no worse than other people's!"</p> + +<p>"What price are oats fetching now?" it occurred to the Gevir to ask.</p> + +<p>Oats had fallen of late, but it seemed better to Chayyim to say that +they had risen.</p> + +<p>"They have risen very much!" he declared in a mercantile tone of voice.<a name="page_395" id="page_395"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, and have you some oats ready?" inquired the Gevir further.</p> + +<p>"I've got a nice lot of oats, and they didn't cost me much, either. I +got them quite cheap," replied Chayyim, with more warmth, forgetting, +while he spoke, that he hadn't had an ear of oats in his granary for +weeks.</p> + +<p>"And you are thinking of doing a little speculating?" asked Loibe-Bäres. +"Are you not in need of any money?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks be to God," replied Chayyim, proudly, "I have never yet been in +need of money."</p> + +<p>"Why did I say that?" he thought then, in terror at his own words. "How +am I going to ask for a loan now?" and Chayyim wanted to back the cart a +little, only Loibe-Bäres prevented him by saying:</p> + +<p>"So I understand you make a good thing of it, you are quite a wealthy +man."</p> + +<p>"My wealth be to my enemies!" Chayyim wanted to draw back, but after a +glance at Loibe-Bäres' shining face, at the blue jar with the jelly, he +answered proudly:</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven, I have nothing to complain of!"</p> + +<p>"There goes your charitable loan!" The thought came like a kick in the +back of his head. "Why are you boasting like that? Tell him you want +twenty-five rubles for Ulas—that he must save you, that you are in +despair, that—"</p> + +<p>But Chayyim fell deeper and deeper into a contented and happy way of +talking, praised his business more and more, and conversed with the +Gevir as with an equal.<a name="page_396" id="page_396"></a></p> + +<p>But he soon began to feel he was one too many, that he should not have +sat there so long, or have talked in that way. It would have been better +to have talked about the fair, about a loan. Now it is too late:</p> + +<p>"I have no need of money!" and Chayyim gave a despairing look at +Loibe-Bäres' cheerful face, at the two little boys who sat opposite and +watched him with sly, mischievous eyes, and who whispered knowingly to +each other, and then smiled more knowingly still!</p> + +<p>A cold perspiration covered him. He rose from his chair.</p> + +<p>"You are going already?" observed Loibe-Bäres, politely.</p> + +<p>"Now perhaps I could ask him!" It flashed across Chayyim's mind that he +might yet save himself, but, stealing a glance at the two boys with the +roguish eyes that watched him so slyly, he replied with dignity:</p> + +<p>"I must! Business! There is no time!" and it seems to him, as he goes +toward the door, that the two little boys with the mischievous eyes are +putting out their tongues after him, and that Loibe-Bäres himself smiles +and says, "Stick your tongues out further, further still!"</p> + +<p>Chayyim's shoulders seem to burn, and he makes haste to get out of the +house.<a name="page_397" id="page_397"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_TWO_BROTHERS" id="THE_TWO_BROTHERS"></a>THE TWO BROTHERS</h3> + +<p>It is three months since Yainkele and Berele—two brothers, the first +fourteen years old, the second sixteen—have been at the college that +stands in the town of X—, five German miles from their birthplace +Dalissovke, after which they are called the "Dalissovkers."</p> + +<p>Yainkele is a slight, pale boy, with black eyes that peep slyly from +beneath the two black eyebrows. Berele is taller and stouter than +Yainkele, his eyes are lighter, and his glance is more defiant, as +though he would say, "Let me alone, I shall laugh at you all yet!"</p> + +<p>The two brothers lodged with a poor relation, a widow, a dealer in +second-hand goods, who never came home till late at night. The two +brothers had no bed, but a chest, which was broad enough, served +instead, and the brothers slept sweetly on it, covered with their own +torn clothes; and in their dreams they saw their native place, the +little street, their home, their father with his long beard and dim eyes +and bent back, and their mother with her long, pale, melancholy face, +and they heard the little brothers and sisters quarrelling, as they +fought over a bit of herring, and they dreamt other dreams of home, and +early in the morning they were homesick, and then they used to run to +the Dalissovke Inn, and ask the carrier if there were a letter for them +from home.</p> + +<p>The Dalissovke carriers were good Jews with soft hearts, and they were +sorry for the two poor boys, who<a name="page_398" id="page_398"></a> were so anxious for news from home, +whose eyes burned, and whose hearts beat so fast, so loud, but the +carriers were very busy; they came charged with a thousand messages from +the Dalissovke shopkeepers and traders, and they carried more letters +than the post, but with infinitely less method. Letters were lost, and +parcels were heard of no more, and the distracted carriers scratched the +nape of their neck, and replied to every question:</p> + +<p>"Directly, directly, I shall find it directly—no, I don't seem to have +anything for you—"</p> + +<p>That is how they answered the grown people who came to them; but our two +little brothers stood and looked at Lezer the carrier—a man in a wadded +caftan, summer and winter—with thirsty eyes and aching hearts; stood +and waited, hoping he would notice them and say something, if only one +word. But Lezer was always busy: now he had gone into the yard to feed +the horse, now he had run into the inn, and entered into a conversation +with the clerk of a great store, who had brought a list of goods wanted +from a shop in Dalissovke.</p> + +<p>And the brothers used to stand and stand, till the elder one, Berele, +lost patience. Biting his lips, and all but crying with vexation, he +would just articulate: "Reb Lezer, is there a letter from father?"</p> + +<p>But Reb Lezer would either suddenly cease to exist, run out into the +street with somebody or other, or be absorbed in a conversation, and +Berele hardly expected the answer which Reb Lezer would give over his +shoulder:<a name="page_399" id="page_399"></a></p> + +<p>"There isn't one—there isn't one."</p> + +<p>"There isn't one!" Berele would say with a deep sigh, and sadly call to +Yainkele to come away. Mournfully, and with a broken spirit, they went +to where the day's meal awaited them.</p> + +<p>"I am sure he loses the letters!" Yainkele would say a few minutes +later, as they walked along.</p> + +<p>"He is a bad man!" Berele would mutter with vexation.</p> + +<p>But one day Lezer handed them a letter and a small parcel.</p> + +<p>The letter ran thus:</p> + +<p>"Dear Children,</p> + +<p>Be good, boys, and learn with diligence. We send you herewith half +a cheese and a quarter of a pound of sugar, and a little +berry-juice in a bottle.</p> + +<p>Eat it in health, and do not quarrel over it.</p> + +<p class="r"><span style="margin-right: 10%;">From me, your father,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Chayyim Hecht</span>."</p> + +<p>That day Lezer the carrier was the best man in the world in their eyes, +they would not have been ashamed to eat him up with horse and cart for +very love. They wrote an answer at once—for letter-paper they used to +tear out, with fluttering hearts, the first, imprinted pages in the +Gemoreh—and gave it that evening to Lezer the carrier. Lezer took it +coldly, pushed it into the breast of his coat, and muttered something +like "All right!"</p> + +<p>"What did he say, Berele?" asked Yainkele, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I think he said 'all right,'" Berele answered doubtfully.<a name="page_400" id="page_400"></a></p> + +<p>"I think he said so, too," Yainkele persuaded himself. Then he gave a +sigh, and added fearfully:</p> + +<p>"He may lose the letter!"</p> + +<p>"Bite your tongue out!" answered Berele, angrily, and they went sadly +away to supper.</p> + +<p>And three times a week, early in the morning, when Lezer the carrier +came driving, the two brothers flew, not ran, to the Dalissovke Inn, to +ask for an answer to their letter; and Lezer the carrier grew more +preoccupied and cross, and answered either with mumbled words, which the +brothers could not understand, and dared not ask him to repeat, or else +not at all, so that they went away with heavy hearts. But one day they +heard Lezer the carrier speak distinctly, so that they understood quite +well:</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, you two? What do you come plaguing me for? +Letter? Fiddlesticks! How much do you pay me? Am I a postman? Eh? Be off +with you, and don't worry."</p> + +<p>The brothers obeyed, but only in part: their hearts were like lead, +their thin little legs shook, and tears fell from their eyes onto the +ground. And they went no more to Lezer the carrier to ask for a letter.</p> + +<p>"I wish he were dead and buried!" they exclaimed, but they did not mean +it, and they longed all the time just to go and look at Lezer the +carrier, his horse and cart. After all, they came from Dalissovke, and +the two brothers loved them.</p> + +<p class="top5">One day, two or three weeks after the carrier sent them about their +business in the way described, the two<a name="page_401" id="page_401"></a> brothers were sitting in the +house of the poor relation and talking about home. It was summer-time, +and a Friday afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what father is doing now," said Yainkele, staring at the small +panes in the small window.</p> + +<p>"He must be cutting his nails," answered Berele, with a melancholy +smile.</p> + +<p>"He must be chopping up lambs' feet," imagined Yainkele, "and Mother is +combing Chainele, and Chainele is crying."</p> + +<p>"Now we've talked nonsense enough!" decided Berele. "How can we know +what is going on there?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps somebody's dead!" added Yainkele, in sudden terror.</p> + +<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" said Berele. "When people die, they let one +know—"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they wrote, and the carrier won't give us the letter—"</p> + +<p>"Ai, that's chatter enough!" Berele was quite cross. "Shut up, donkey! +You make me laugh," he went on, to reassure Yainkele, "they are all +alive and well."</p> + +<p>Yainkele became cheerful again, and all at once he gave a bound into the +air, and exclaimed with eager eyes:</p> + +<p>"Berele, do what I say! Let's write by the post!"</p> + +<p>"Right you are!" agreed Berele. "Only I've no money."</p> + +<p>"I have four kopeks; they are over from the ten I got last night. You +know, at my 'Thursday' they give me ten kopeks for supper, and I have +four over.<a name="page_402" id="page_402"></a></p> + +<p>"And I have one kopek," said Berele, "just enough for a post-card."</p> + +<p>"But which of us will write it?" asked Yainkele.</p> + +<p>"I," answered Berele, "I am the eldest, I'm a first-born son."</p> + +<p>"But I gave four kopeks!"</p> + +<p>"A first-born is worth more than four kopeks."</p> + +<p>"No! I'll write half, and you'll write half, ha?"</p> + +<p>"Very well. Come and buy a card."</p> + +<p>And the two brothers ran to buy a card at the postoffice.</p> + +<p>"There will be no room for anything!" complained Yainkele, on the way +home, as he contemplated the small post-card. "We will make little tiny +letters, teeny weeny ones!" advised Berele.</p> + +<p>"Father won't be able to read them!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind! He will put on his spectacles. Come along—quicker!" urged +Yainkele. His heart was already full of words, like a sea, and he wanted +to pour it out onto the bit of paper, the scrap on which he had spent +his entire fortune.</p> + +<p>They reached their lodging, and settled down to write.</p> + +<p>Berele began, and Yainkele stood and looked on.</p> + +<p>"Begin higher up! There is room there for a whole line. Why did you put +'to my beloved Father' so low down?" shrieked Yainkele.</p> + +<p>"Where am I to put it, then? In the sky, eh?" asked Berele, and pushed +Yainkele aside.</p> + +<p>"Go away, I will leave you half. Don't confuse me!—You be quiet!" and +Yainkele moved away, and stared with terrified eyes at Berele, as he sat +there, bent double,<a name="page_403" id="page_403"></a> and wrote and wrote, knitted his brows, and dipped +the pen, and reflected, and wrote again.</p> + +<p>"That's enough!" screamed Yainkele, after a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"It's not the half yet," answered Berele, writing on.</p> + +<p>"But I ought to have more than half!" said Yainkele, crossly. The +longing to write, to pour out his heart onto the post-card, was +overwhelming him.</p> + +<p>But Berele did not even hear: he had launched out into such rhetorical +Hebrew expressions as "First of all, I let you know that I am alive and +well," which he had learnt in "The Perfect Letter-Writer," and his +little bits of news remained unwritten. He had yet to abuse Lezer the +carrier, to tell how many pages of the Gemoreh he had learnt, to let +them know they were to send another parcel, because they had no "Monday" +and no "Wednesday," and the "Tuesday" was no better than nothing.</p> + +<p>And Berele writes and writes, and Yainkele can no longer contain +himself—he sees that Berele is taking up more than half the card.</p> + +<p>"Enough!" He ran forward with a cry, and seized the penholder.</p> + +<p>"Three words more!" begged Berele.</p> + +<p>"But remember, not more than three!" and Yainkele's eyes flashed. Berele +set to work to write the three words; but that which he wished to +express required yet ten to fifteen words, and Berele, excited by the +fact of writing, pecked away at the paper, and took up yet another bit +of the other half.<a name="page_404" id="page_404"></a></p> + +<p>"You stop!" shrieked Yainkele, and broke into hysterical sobs, as he saw +what a small space remained for him.</p> + +<p>"Hush! Just 'from me, thy son,'" begged Berele, "nothing else!"</p> + +<p>But Yainkele, remembering that he had given a whole vierer toward the +post-card, and that they would read so much of Berele at home, and so +little of him, flew into a passion, and came and tried to tear away the +card from under Berele's hands. "Let me put 'from me, thy son'!" +implored Berele.</p> + +<p>"It will do <i>without</i> 'from me, thy son'!" screamed Yainkele, although +he <i>felt</i> that one ought to put it. His anger rose, and he began tugging +at the card. Berele held tight, but Yainkele gave such a pull that the +card tore in two.</p> + +<p>"What have you done, villain!" cried Berele, glaring at Yainkele.</p> + +<p>"I <i>meant</i> to do it!" wailed Yainkele.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but why did you?" cried Berele, gazing in despair at the two torn +halves of the post-card.</p> + +<p>But Yainkele could not answer. The tears choked him, and he threw +himself against the wall, tearing his hair. Then Berele gave way, too, +and the little room resounded with lamentations.<a name="page_405" id="page_405"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="LOST_HIS_VOICE" id="LOST_HIS_VOICE"></a>LOST HIS VOICE</h3> + +<p>It was in the large synagogue in Klemenke. The week-day service had come +to an end. The town cantor who sings all the prayers, even when he prays +alone, and who is longer over them than other people, had already folded +his prayer-scarf, and was humming the day's Psalm to himself, to a tune. +He sang the last words "cantorishly" high:</p> + +<p>"And He will be our guide until death." In the last word "death" he +tried, as usual, to rise artistically to the higher octave, then to fall +very low, and to rise again almost at once into the height; but this +time he failed, the note stuck in his throat and came out false.</p> + +<p>He got a fright, and in his fright he looked round to make sure no one +was standing beside him. Seeing only old Henoch, his alarm grew less, he +knew that old Henoch was deaf.</p> + +<p>As he went out with his prayer-scarf and phylacteries under his arm, the +unsuccessful "death" rang in his ears and troubled him.</p> + +<p>"Plague take it," he muttered, "it never once happened to me before."</p> + +<p>Soon, however, he remembered that two weeks ago, on the Sabbath before +the New Moon, as he stood praying with the choristers before the altar, +nearly the same thing had happened to him when he sang "He is our God" +as a solo in the Kedushah.<a name="page_406" id="page_406"></a></p> + +<p>Happily no one remarked it—anyway the "bass" had said nothing to him. +And the memory of the unsuccessful "Hear, O Israel" of two weeks ago and +of to-day's "unto death" were mingled together, and lay heavily on his +heart.</p> + +<p>He would have liked to try the note once more as he walked, but the +street was just then full of people, and he tried to refrain till he +should reach home. Contrary to his usual custom, he began taking rapid +steps, and it looked as if he were running away from someone. On +reaching home, he put away his prayer-scarf without saying so much as +good morning, recovered his breath after the quick walk, and began to +sing, "He shall be our guide until death."</p> + +<p>"That's right, you have so little time to sing in! The day is too short +for you!" exclaimed the cantoress, angrily. "It grates on the ears +enough already!"</p> + +<p>"How, it grates?" and the cantor's eyes opened wide with fright, "I sing +a note, and you say 'it grates'? How can it grate?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her imploringly, his eyes said: "Have pity on me! Don't +say, 'it grates'! because if it <i>does</i> grate, I am miserable, I am done +for!"</p> + +<p>But the cantoress was much too busy and preoccupied with the dinner to +sympathize and to understand how things stood with her husband, and went +on:</p> + +<p>"Of course it grates! Why shouldn't it? It deafens me. When you sing in +the choir, I have to bear it, but when you begin by yourself—what?"</p> + +<p>The cantor had grown as white as chalk, and only just managed to say:<a name="page_407" id="page_407"></a></p> + +<p>"Grune, are you mad? What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"What ails the man to-day!" exclaimed Grune, impatiently. "You've made a +fool of yourself long enough! Go and wash your hands and come to +dinner!"</p> + +<p>The cantor felt no appetite, but he reflected that one must eat, if only +as a remedy; not to eat would make matters worse, and he washed his +hands.</p> + +<p>He chanted the grace loud and cantor-like, glancing occasionally at his +wife, to see if she noticed anything wrong; but this time she said +nothing at all, and he was reassured. "It was my fancy—just my fancy!" +he said to himself. "All nonsense! One doesn't lose one's voice so soon +as all that!"</p> + +<p>Then he remembered that he was already forty years old, and it had +happened to the cantor Meyer Lieder, when he was just that age—</p> + +<p>That was enough to put him into a fright again. He bent his head, and +thought deeply. Then he raised it, and called out loud:</p> + +<p>"Grune!"</p> + +<p>"Hush! What is it? What makes you call out in that strange voice?" asked +Grune, crossly, running in.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, let me live!" said the cantor. "Why do you say 'in that +strange voice'? Whose voice was it? eh? What is the matter now?"</p> + +<p>There was a sound as of tears as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"You're cracked to-day! As nonsensical—Well, what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Beat up one or two eggs for me!" begged the cantor, softly.<a name="page_408" id="page_408"></a></p> + +<p>"Here's a new holiday!" screamed Grune. "On a Wednesday! Have you got to +chant the Sabbath prayers? Eggs are so dear now—five kopeks apiece!"</p> + +<p>"Grune," commanded the cantor, "they may be one ruble apiece, two +rubles, five rubles, one hundred rubles. Do you hear? Beat up two eggs +for me, and don't talk!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, you earn so much money!" muttered Grune.</p> + +<p>"Then you think it's all over with me?" said the cantor, boldly. "No, +Grune!"</p> + +<p>He wanted to tell her that he wasn't sure about it yet, there was still +hope, it might be all a fancy, perhaps it was imagination, but he was +afraid to say all that, and Grune did not understand what he stammered +out. She shrugged her shoulders, and only said, "Upon my word!" and went +to beat up the eggs.</p> + +<p>The cantor sat and sang to himself. He listened to every note as though +he were examining some one. Finding himself unable to take the high +octave, he called out despairingly:</p> + +<p>"Grune, make haste with the eggs!" His one hope lay in the eggs.</p> + +<p>The cantoress brought them with a cross face, and grumbled:</p> + +<p>"He wants eggs, and we're pinching and starving—"</p> + +<p>The cantor would have liked to open his heart to her, so that she should +not think the eggs were what he cared about; he would have liked to say, +"Grune, I think I'm done for!" but he summoned all his courage and +refrained.<a name="page_409" id="page_409"></a></p> + +<p>"After all, it may be only an idea," he thought.</p> + +<p>And without saying anything further, he began to drink up the eggs as a +remedy.</p> + +<p>When they were finished, he tried to make a few cantor-like trills. In +this he succeeded, and he grew more cheerful.</p> + +<p>"It will be all right," he thought, "I shall not lose my voice so soon +as all that! Never mind Meyer Lieder, he drank! I don't drink, only a +little wine now and again, at a circumcision."</p> + +<p>His appetite returned, and he swallowed mouthful after mouthful.</p> + +<p>But his cheerfulness did not last: the erstwhile unsuccessful "death" +rang in his ears, and the worry returned and took possession of him.</p> + +<p>The fear of losing his voice had tormented the cantor for the greater +part of his life. His one care, his one anxiety had been, what should he +do if he were to lose his voice? It had happened to him once already, +when he was fourteen years old. He had a tenor voice, which broke all of +a sudden. But that time he didn't care. On the contrary, he was +delighted, he knew that his voice was merely changing, and that in six +months he would get the baritone for which he was impatiently waiting. +But when he had got the baritone, he knew that when he lost that, it +would be lost indeed—he would get no other voice. So he took great care +of it—how much more so when he had his own household, and had taken the +office of cantor in Klemenke! Not a breath of wind was allowed to blow +upon his throat, and he wore a comforter in the hottest weather.<a name="page_410" id="page_410"></a></p> + +<p>It was not so much on account of the Klemenke householders—he felt sure +they would not dismiss him from his office. Even if he were to lose his +voice altogether, he would still receive his salary. It was not brought +to him to his house, as it was—he had to go for it every Friday from +door to door, and the Klemenke Jews were good-hearted, and never refused +anything to the outstretched hand. He took care of his voice, and +trembled to lose it, only out of love for the singing. He thought a +great deal of the Klemenke Jews—their like was not to be found—but in +the interpretation of music they were uninitiated, they had no feeling +whatever. And when, standing before the altar, he used to make artistic +trills and variations, and take the highest notes, that was for +<i>himself</i>—he had great joy in it—and also for his eight singers, who +were all the world to him. His very life was bound up with them, and +when one of them exclaimed, "Oi, cantor! Oi, how you sing!" his +happiness was complete.</p> + +<p>The singers had come together from various towns and villages, and all +their conversations and their stories turned and wrapped themselves +round cantors and music. These stories and legends were the cantor's +delight, he would lose himself in every one of them, and give a sweet, +deep sigh:</p> + +<p>"As if music were a trifle! As if a feeling were a toy!" And now that he +had begun to fear he was losing his voice, it seemed to him the singers +were different people—bad people! They must be laughing at him among +themselves! And he began to be on his guard against them, avoided taking +a high note in their<a name="page_411" id="page_411"></a> presence, lest they should find out—and suffered +all the more.</p> + +<p>And what would the neighboring cantors say? The thought tormented him +further. He knew that he had a reputation among them, that he was a +great deal thought of, that his voice was much talked of. He saw in his +mind's eye a couple of cantors whispering together, and shaking their +heads sorrowfully: they are pitying him! "How sad! You have heard? The +poor Klemenke cantor——"</p> + +<p>The vision quite upset him.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's only fancy!" he would say to himself in those dreadful +moments, and would begin to sing, to try his highest notes. But the +terror he was in took away his hearing, and he could not tell if his +voice were what it should be or not.</p> + +<p>In two weeks time his face grew pale and thin, his eyes were sunk, and +he felt his strength going.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, cantor?" said a singer to him one day.</p> + +<p>"Ha, what is the matter?" asked the cantor, with a start, thinking they +had already found out. "You ask what is the matter with me? Then you +know something about it, ha!"</p> + +<p>"No, I know nothing. That is why I ask you why you look so upset."</p> + +<p>"Upset, you say? Nothing more than upset, ha? That's all?"</p> + +<p>"The cantor must be thinking out some new piece for the Solemn Days," +decided the choir.<a name="page_412" id="page_412"></a></p> + +<p>Another month went by, and the cantor had not got the better of his +fear. Life had become distasteful to him. If he had known for certain +that his voice was gone, he would perhaps have been calmer. Verfallen! +No one can live forever (losing his voice and dying was one and the same +to him), but the uncertainty, the tossing oneself between yes and no, +the Olom ha-Tohu of it all, embittered the cantor's existence.</p> + +<p>At last, one fine day, the cantor resolved to get at the truth: he could +bear it no longer.</p> + +<p>It was evening, the wife had gone to the market for meat, and the choir +had gone home, only the eldest singer, Yössel "bass," remained with the +cantor.</p> + +<p>The cantor looked at him, opened his mouth and shut it again; it was +difficult for him to say what he wanted to say.</p> + +<p>At last he broke out with:</p> + +<p>"Yössel!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, cantor?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, are you an honest man?"</p> + +<p>Yössel "bass" stared at the cantor, and asked:</p> + +<p>"What are you asking me to-day, cantor?"</p> + +<p>"Brother Yössel," the cantor said, all but weeping, "Brother Yössel!"</p> + +<p>That was all he could say.</p> + +<p>"Cantor, what is wrong with you?"</p> + +<p>"Brother Yössel, be an honest man, and tell me the truth, the truth!"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand! What is the matter with you, cantor?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me the truth: Do you notice any change in me?"<a name="page_413" id="page_413"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," answered the singer, looking at the cantor, and seeing how +pale and thin he was. "A very great change——"</p> + +<p>"Now I see you are an honest man, you tell me the truth to my face. Do +you know when it began?"</p> + +<p>"It will soon be a month," answered the singer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, brother, a month, a month, but I felt—"</p> + +<p>The cantor wiped off the perspiration that covered his forehead, and +continued:</p> + +<p>"And you think, Yössel, that it's lost now, for good and all?"</p> + +<p>"That <i>what</i> is lost?" asked Yössel, beginning to be aware that the +conversation turned on something quite different from what was in his +own mind.</p> + +<p>"What? How can you ask? Ah? What should I lose? Money? I have no +money—I mean—of course—my voice."</p> + +<p>Then Yössel understood everything—he was too much of a musician <i>not</i> +to understand. Looking compassionately at the cantor, he asked:</p> + +<p>"For certain?"</p> + +<p>"For certain?" exclaimed the cantor, trying to be cheerful. "Why must it +be for certain? Very likely it's all a mistake—let us hope it is!"</p> + +<p>Yössel looked at the cantor, and as a doctor behaves to his patient, so +did he:</p> + +<p>"Take <i>do</i>!" he said, and the cantor, like an obedient pupil, drew out +<i>do</i>.</p> + +<p>"Draw it out, draw it out! Four quavers—draw it out!" commanded Yössel, +listening attentively.</p> + +<p>The cantor drew it out.<a name="page_414" id="page_414"></a></p> + +<p>"Now, if you please, <i>re</i>!"</p> + +<p>The cantor sang out <i>re-re-re</i>.</p> + +<p>The singer moved aside, appeared to be lost in thought, and then said, +sadly:</p> + +<p>"Gone!"</p> + +<p>"Forever?"</p> + +<p>"Well, are you a little boy? Are you likely to get another voice? At +your time of life, gone is gone!"</p> + +<p>The cantor wrung his hands, threw himself down beside the table, and, +laying his head on his arms, he burst out crying like a child.</p> + +<p>Next morning the whole town had heard of the misfortune—that the cantor +had lost his voice.</p> + +<p>"It's an ill wind——" quoted the innkeeper, a well-to-do man. "He won't +keep us so long with his trills on Sabbath. I'd take a bitter onion for +that voice of his, any day!"<a name="page_415" id="page_415"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="LATE" id="LATE"></a>LATE</h3> + +<p>It was in sad and hopeless mood that Antosh watched the autumn making +its way into his peasant's hut. The days began to shorten and the +evenings to lengthen, and there was no more petroleum in the hut to fill +his humble lamp; his wife complained too—the store of salt was giving +out; there was very little soap left, and in a few days he would finish +his tobacco. And Antosh cleared his throat, spat, and muttered countless +times a day:</p> + +<p>"No salt, no soap, no tobacco; we haven't got anything. A bad business!"</p> + +<p>Antosh had no prospect of earning anything in the village. The one +village Jew was poor himself, and had no work to give. Antosh had only +<i>one</i> hope left. Just before the Feast of Tabernacles he would drive a +whole cart-load of fir-boughs into the little town and bring a tidy sum +of money home in exchange.</p> + +<p>He did this every year, since buying his thin horse in the market for +six rubles.</p> + +<p>"When shall you have Tabernacles?" he asked every day of the village +Jew. "Not yet," was the Jew's daily reply. "But when <i>shall</i> you?" +Antosh insisted one day.</p> + +<p>"In a week," answered the Jew, not dreaming how very much Antosh needed +to know precisely.</p> + +<p>In reality there were only five more days to Tabernacles, and Antosh had +calculated with business accuracy that it would be best to take the +fir-boughs into the town two days before the festival. But this was +really the first day of it.<a name="page_416" id="page_416"></a></p> + +<p>He rose early, ate his dry, black bread dipped in salt, and drank a +measure of water. Then he harnessed his thin, starved horse to the cart, +took his hatchet, and drove into the nearest wood.</p> + +<p>He cut down the branches greedily, seeking out the thickest and longest.</p> + +<p>"Good ware is easier sold," he thought, and the cart filled, and the +load grew higher and higher. He was calculating on a return of three +gulden, and it seemed still too little, so that he went on cutting, and +laid on a few more boughs. The cart could hold no more, and Antosh +looked at it from all sides, and smiled contentedly.</p> + +<p>"That will be enough," he muttered, and loosened the reins. But scarcely +had he driven a few paces, when he stopped and looked the cart over +again.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's not enough, after all?" he questioned fearfully, cut down +five more boughs, laid them onto the already full cart, and drove on.</p> + +<p>He drove slowly, pace by pace, and his thoughts travelled slowly too, as +though keeping step with the thin horse.</p> + +<p>Antosh was calculating how much salt and how much soap, how much +petroleum and how much tobacco he could buy for the return for his ware. +At length the calculating tired him, and he resolved to put it off till +he should have the cash. Then the calculating would be done much more +easily.</p> + +<p>But when he reached the town, and saw that the booths were already +covered with fir-boughs, he felt a pang at his heart. The booths and the +houses seemed to be<a name="page_417" id="page_417"></a> twirling round him in a circle, and dancing. But he +consoled himself with the thought that every year, when he drove into +town, he found many booths already covered. Some cover earlier, some +later. The latter paid the best.</p> + +<p>"I shall ask higher prices," he resolved, and all the while fear tugged +at his heart. He drove on. Two Jewish women were standing before a +house; they pointed at the cart with their finger, and laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"Why do you laugh?" queried Antosh, excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Because you are too soon with your fir-boughs," they answered, and +laughed again.</p> + +<p>"How too soon?" he asked, astonished. "Too soon—too soon—" laughed the +women.</p> + +<p>"Pfui," Antosh spat, and drove on, thinking, "Berko said himself, 'In a +week.' I am only two days ahead."</p> + +<p>A cold sweat covered him, as he reflected he might have made a wrong +calculation, founded on what Berko had told him. It was possible that he +had counted the days badly—had come too late! There is no doubt: all +the booths are covered with fir-boughs. He will have no salt, no +tobacco, no soap, and no petroleum.</p> + +<p>Sadly he followed the slow paces of his languid horse, which let his +weary head droop as though out of sympathy for his master.</p> + +<p>Meantime the Jews were crowding out of the synagogues in festal array, +with their prayer-scarfs and prayer-books in their hands. When they +perceived the peasant with the cart of fir-boughs, they looked +questioningly one at the other: Had they made a mistake and begun the +festival too early?<a name="page_418" id="page_418"></a></p> + +<p>"What have you there?" some one inquired.</p> + +<p>"What?" answered Antosh, taken aback. "Fir-boughs! Buy, my dear friend, +I sell it cheap!" he begged in a piteous voice.</p> + +<p>The Jews burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"What should we want it for now, fool?" "The festival has begun!" said +another. Antosh was confused with his misfortune, he scratched the back +of his head, and exclaimed, weeping:</p> + +<p>"Buy! Buy! I want salt, soap! I want petroleum."</p> + +<p>The group of Jews, who had begun by laughing, were now deeply moved. +They saw the poor, starving peasant standing there in his despair, and +were filled with a lively compassion.</p> + +<p>"A poor Gentile—it's pitiful!" said one, sympathetically. "He hoped to +make a fortune out of his fir-boughs, and now!" observed another.</p> + +<p>"It would be proper to buy up that bit of fir," said a third, "else it +might cause a Chillul ha-Shem." "On a festival?" objected some one else.</p> + +<p>"It can always be used for firewood," said another, contemplating the +cartful.</p> + +<p>"Whether or no! It's a festival——"</p> + +<p>"No salt, no soap, no petroleum—" It was the refrain of the bewildered +peasant, who did not understand what the Jews were saying among +themselves. He could only guess that they were talking about him. "Hold! +he doesn't want <i>money</i>! He wants ware. Ware without money may be given +even on a festival," called out one.<a name="page_419" id="page_419"></a></p> + +<p>The interest of the bystanders waxed more lively. Among them stood a +storekeeper, whose shop was close by. "Give him, Chayyim, a few jars of +salt and other things that he wants—even if it comes to a few gulden. +We will contribute."</p> + +<p>"All right, willingly!" said Chayyim, "A poor Gentile!"</p> + +<p>"A precept, a precept! It would be carrying out a religious precept, as +surely as I am a Jew!" chimed in every individual member of the crowd.</p> + +<p>Chayyim called the peasant to him; all the rest followed. He gave him +out of the stores two jars of salt, a bar of soap, a bottle of +petroleum, and two packets of tobacco.</p> + +<p>The peasant did not know what to do for joy. He could only stammer in a +low voice, "Thank you! thank you!"</p> + +<p>"And there's a bit of Sabbath loaf," called out one, when he had packed +the things away, "take that with you!"</p> + +<p>"There's some more!" and a second hand held some out to him.</p> + +<p>"More!"</p> + +<p>"More!"</p> + +<p>"And more!"</p> + +<p>They brought Antosh bread and cake from all sides; his astonishment was +such that he could scarcely articulate his thanks.</p> + +<p>The people were pleased with themselves, and Yainkel Leives, a cheerful +man, who was well supplied for the<a name="page_420" id="page_420"></a> festival, because his daughter's +"intended" was staying in his house, brought Antosh a glass of brandy:</p> + +<p>"Drink, and drive home, in the name of God!"</p> + +<p>Antosh drank the brandy with a quick gulp, bit off a piece of cake, and +declared joyfully, "I shall never forget it!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all a bad Gentile," remarked someone in the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Well, what would you have? Did you expect him to beat you?" queried +another, smiling.</p> + +<p>The words "to beat" made a melancholy impression on the crowd, and it +dispersed in silence.<a name="page_421" id="page_421"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_KADDISH" id="THE_KADDISH"></a>THE KADDISH</h3> + +<p>From behind the curtain came low moans, and low words of encouragement +from the old and experienced Bobbe. In the room it was dismal to +suffocation. The seven children, all girls, between twenty-three and +four years old, sat quietly, each by herself, with drooping head, and +waited for something dreadful.</p> + +<p>At a little table near a great cupboard with books sat the "patriarch" +Reb Selig Chanes, a tall, thin Jew, with a yellow, consumptive face. He +was chanting in low, broken tones out of a big Gemoreh, and continually +raising his head, giving a nervous glance at the curtain, and then, +without inquiring what might be going on beyond the low moaning, taking +up once again his sad, tremulous chant. He seemed to be suffering more +than the woman in childbirth herself.</p> + +<p>"Lord of the World!"—it was the eldest daughter who broke the +stillness—"Let it be a boy for once! Help, Lord of the World, have +pity!"</p> + +<p>"Oi, thus might it be, Lord of the World!" chimed in the second.</p> + +<p>And all the girls, little and big, with broken heart and prostrate +spirit, prayed that there might be born a boy.</p> + +<p>Reb Selig raised his eyes from the Gemoreh, glanced at the curtain, then +at the seven girls, gave vent to a deep-drawn Oi, made a gesture with +his hand, and said with settled despair, "She will give you another +sister!"</p> + +<p>The seven girls looked at one another in desperation;<a name="page_422" id="page_422"></a> their father's +conclusion quite crushed them, and they had no longer even the courage +to pray.</p> + +<p>Only the littlest, the four-year-old, in the torn frock, prayed softly:</p> + +<p>"Oi, please God, there will be a little brother."</p> + +<p>"I shall die without a Kaddish!" groaned Reb Selig.</p> + +<p>The time drags on, the moans behind the curtain grow louder, and Reb +Selig and the elder girls feel that soon, very soon, the "grandmother" +will call out in despair, "A little girl!" And Reb Selig feels that the +words will strike home to his heart like a blow, and he resolves to run +away.</p> + +<p>He goes out into the yard, and looks up at the sky. It is midnight. The +moon swims along so quietly and indifferently, the stars seem to frolic +and rock themselves like little children, and still Reb Selig hears, in +the "grandmother's" husky voice, "A girl!"</p> + +<p>"Well, there will be no Kaddish! Verfallen!" he says, crossing the yard +again. "There's no getting it by force!"</p> + +<p>But his trying to calm himself is useless; the fear that it should be a +girl only grows upon him. He loses patience, and goes back into the +house.</p> + +<p>But the house is in a turmoil.</p> + +<p>"What is it, eh?"</p> + +<p>"A little boy! Tate, a boy! Tatinke, as surely may I be well!" with this +news the seven girls fall upon him with radiant faces.</p> + +<p>"Eh, a little boy?" asked Reb Selig, as though bewildered, "eh? what?"<a name="page_423" id="page_423"></a></p> + +<p>"A boy, Reb Selig, a Kaddish!" announced the "grandmother." "As soon as +I have bathed him, I will show him you!"</p> + +<p>"A boy ... a boy ..." stammered Reb Selig in the same bewilderment, and +he leant against the wall, and burst into tears like a woman.</p> + +<p>The seven girls took alarm.</p> + +<p>"That is for joy," explained the "grandmother," "I have known that +happen before."</p> + +<p>"A boy ... a boy!" sobbed Reb Selig, overcome with happiness, "a boy ... +a boy ... a Kaddish!"</p> + +<p class="top5">The little boy received the name of Jacob, but he was called, by way of +a talisman, Alter.</p> + +<p>Reb Selig was a learned man, and inclined to think lightly of such +protective measures; he even laughed at his Cheike for believing in such +foolishness; but, at heart, he was content to have it so. Who could tell +what might not be in it, after all? Women sometimes know better than +men.</p> + +<p>By the time Alterke was three years old, Reb Selig's cough had become +worse, the sense of oppression on his chest more frequent. But he held +himself morally erect, and looked death calmly in the face, as though he +would say, "Now I can afford to laugh at you—I leave a Kaddish!"</p> + +<p>"What do you think, Cheike," he would say to his wife, after a fit of +coughing, "would Alterke be able to say Kaddish if I were to die to-day +or to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Go along with you, crazy pate!" Cheike would exclaim in secret alarm. +"You are going to live a long while! Is your cough anything new?"<a name="page_424" id="page_424"></a></p> + +<p>Selig smiled, "Foolish woman, she supposes I am afraid to die. When one +leaves a Kaddish, death is a trifle."</p> + +<p>Alterke was sitting playing with a prayer-book and imitating his father +at prayer, "A num-num—a num-num."</p> + +<p>"Listen to him praying!" and Cheike turned delightedly to her husband. +"His soul is piously inclined!"</p> + +<p>Selig made no reply, he only gazed at his Kaddish with a beaming face. +Then an idea came into his head: Alterke will be a Tzaddik, will help +him out of all his difficulties in the other world.</p> + +<p>"Mame, I want to eat!" wailed Alterke, suddenly.</p> + +<p>He was given a piece of the white bread which was laid aside, for him +only, every Sabbath.</p> + +<p>Alterke began to eat.</p> + +<p>"Who bringest forth! Who bringest forth!" called out Reb Selig.</p> + +<p>"Tan't!" answered the child.</p> + +<p>"It is time you taught him to say grace," observed Cheike.</p> + +<p>And Reb Selig drew Alterke to him and began to repeat with him.</p> + +<p>"Say: Boruch."</p> + +<p>"Bo'uch," repeated the child after his fashion.</p> + +<p>"Attoh."</p> + +<p>"Attoh."</p> + +<p>When Alterke had finished "Who bringest forth," Cheike answered piously +Amen, and Reb Selig saw Alterke, in imagination, standing in the +synagogue and repeating Kaddish, and heard the congregation answer<a name="page_425" id="page_425"></a> +Amen, and he felt as though he were already seated in the Garden of +Eden.</p> + +<p class="top5">Another year went by, and Reb Selig was feeling very poorly. Spring had +come, the snow had melted, and he found the wet weather more trying than +ever before. He could just drag himself early to the synagogue, but +going to the afternoon service had become a difficulty, and he used to +recite the afternoon and later service at home, and spend the whole +evening with Alterke.</p> + +<p>It was late at night. All the houses were shut. Reb Selig sat at his +little table, and was looking into the corner where Cheike's bed stood, +and where Alterke slept beside her. Selig had a feeling that he would +die that night. He felt very tired and weak, and with an imploring look +he crept up to Alterke's crib, and began to wake him.</p> + +<p>The child woke with a start.</p> + +<p>"Alterke"—Reb Selig was stroking the little head—"come to me for a +little!"</p> + +<p>The child, who had had his first sleep out, sprang up, and went to his +father.</p> + +<p>Reb Selig sat down in the chair which stood by the little table with the +open Gemoreh, lifted Alterke onto the table, and looked into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Alterke!"</p> + +<p>"What, Tate?"</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to die?"</p> + +<p>"Like," answered the child, not knowing what "to die" meant, and +thinking it must be something nice.<a name="page_426" id="page_426"></a></p> + +<p>"Will you say Kaddish after me?" asked Reb Selig, in a strangled voice, +and he was seized with a fit of coughing.</p> + +<p>"Will say!" promised the child.</p> + +<p>"Shall you know how?"</p> + +<p>"Shall!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, say: Yisgaddal."</p> + +<p>"Yisdaddal," repeated the child in his own way.</p> + +<p>"Veyiskaddash."</p> + +<p>"Veyistaddash."</p> + +<p>And Reb Selig repeated the Kaddish with him several times.</p> + +<p>The small lamp burnt low, and scarcely illuminated Reb Selig's yellow, +corpse-like face, or the little one of Alterke, who repeated wearily the +difficult, and to him unintelligible words of the Kaddish. And Alterke, +all the while, gazed intently into the corner, where Tate's shadow and +his own had a most fantastic and frightening appearance.<a name="page_427" id="page_427"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="AVROHOM_THE_ORCHARD-KEEPER" id="AVROHOM_THE_ORCHARD-KEEPER"></a>AVRÒHOM THE ORCHARD-KEEPER</h3> + +<p>When he first came to the place, as a boy, and went straight to the +house-of-study, and people, having greeted him, asked "Where do you come +from?" and he answered, not without pride, "From the Government of +Wilna"—from that day until the day he was married, they called him "the +Wilner."</p> + +<p>In a few years' time, however, when the house-of-study had married him +to the daughter of the Psalm-reader, a coarse, undersized creature, and +when, after six months' "board" with his father-in-law, he became a +teacher, the town altered his name to "the Wilner teacher." Again, a few +years later, when he got a chest affection, and the doctor forbade him +to keep school, and he began to deal in fruit, the town learnt that his +name was Avròhom, to which they added "the orchard-keeper," and his name +is "Avròhom the orchard-keeper" to this day.</p> + +<p>Avròhom was quite content with his new calling. He had always wished for +a business in which he need not have to do with a lot of people in whom +he had small confidence, and in whose society he felt ill at ease.</p> + +<p>People have a queer way with them, he used to think, they want to be +always talking! They want to tell everything, find out everything, +answer everything!</p> + +<p>When he was a student he always chose out a place in a corner somewhere, +where he could see nobody, and nobody could see him; and he used to +murmur the day's<a name="page_428" id="page_428"></a> task to a low tune, and his murmured repetition made +him think of the ruin in which Rabbi José, praying there, heard the +Bas-Kol mourn, cooing like a dove, over the exile of Israel. And then he +longed to float away to that ruin somewhere in the wilderness, and +murmur there like a dove, with no one, no one, to interrupt him, not +even the Bas-Kol. But his vision would be destroyed by some hard +question which a fellow-student would put before him, describing circles +with his thumb and chanting to a shrill Gemoreh-tune.</p> + +<p>In the orchard, at the end of the Gass, however, which Avròhom hired of +the Gentiles, he had no need to exchange empty words with anyone. +Avròhom had no large capital, and could not afford to hire an orchard +for more than thirty rubles. The orchard was consequently small, and +only grew about twenty apple-trees, a few pear-trees, and a cherry-tree. +Avròhom used to move to the garden directly after the Feast of Weeks, +although that was still very early, the fruit had not yet set, and there +was nothing to steal.</p> + +<p>But Avròhom could not endure sitting at home any longer, where the wife +screamed, the children cried, and there was a continual "fair." What +should he want there? He only wished to be alone with his thoughts and +imaginings, and his quiet "tunes," which were always weaving themselves +inside him, and were nearly stifled.</p> + +<p>It is early to go to the orchard directly after the Feast of Weeks, but +Avròhom does not mind, he is drawn back to the trees that can think and +hear so much, and keep so many things to themselves.<a name="page_429" id="page_429"></a></p> + +<p>And Avròhom betakes himself to the orchard. He carries with him, besides +phylacteries and prayer-scarf, a prayer-book with the Psalms and the +"Stations," two volumes of the Gemoreh which he owns, a few works by the +later scholars, and the Tales of Jerusalem; he takes his wadded winter +garment and a cushion, makes them into a bundle, kisses the Mezuzeh, +mutters farewell, and is off to the orchard.</p> + +<p>As he nears the orchard his heart begins to beat loudly for joy, but he +is hindered from going there at once. In the yard through which he must +pass lies a dog. Later on, when Avròhom has got to know the dog, he will +even take him into the orchard, but the first time there is a certain +risk—one has to know a dog, otherwise it barks, and Avròhom dreads a +bark worse than a bite—it goes through one's head! And Avròhom waits +till the owner comes out, and leads him through by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Back already?" exclaims the owner, laughing and astonished.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" murmurs Avròhom, shamefacedly, and feeling that it is, +indeed, early.</p> + +<p>"What shall you do?" asks the owner, graver. "There is no hut there at +all—last year's fell to pieces."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, never mind," begs Avròhom, "it will be all right."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you want to come!" and the owner shrugs his shoulders, and +lets Avròhom into the orchard.</p> + +<p>Avròhom immediately lays his bundle on the ground, stretches himself out +full length on the grass, and murmurs, "Good! good!"<a name="page_430" id="page_430"></a></p> + +<p>At last he is silent, and listens to the quiet rustle of the trees. It +seems to him that the trees also wonder at his coming so soon, and he +looks at them beseechingly, as though he would say:</p> + +<p>"Trees—you, too! I couldn't help it ... it drew me...."</p> + +<p>And soon he fancies that the trees have understood everything, and +murmur, "Good, good!"</p> + +<p>And Avròhom already feels at home in the orchard. He rises from the +ground, and goes to every tree in turn, as though to make its +acquaintance. Then he considers the hut that stands in the middle of the +orchard.</p> + +<p>It has fallen in a little certainly, but Avròhom is all the better +pleased with it. He is not particularly fond of new, strong things, a +building resembling a ruin is somehow much more to his liking. Such a +ruin is inwardly full of secrets, whispers, and melodies. There the +tears fall quietly, while the soul yearns after something that has no +name and no existence in time or space. And Avròhom creeps into the +fallen-in hut, where it is dark and where there are smells of another +world. He draws himself up into a ball, and remains hid from everyone.</p> + +<p class="top5">But to remain hid from the world is not so easy. At first it can be +managed. So long as the fruit is ripening, he needs no one, and no one +needs him. When one of his children brings him food, he exchanges a few +words with it, asks what is going on at home, and how the mother is, and +he feels he has done his duty, if, when obliged to go home, he spends +there Friday night<a name="page_431" id="page_431"></a> and Saturday morning. That over, and the hot stew +eaten, he returns to the orchard, lies down under a tree, opens the +Tales of Jerusalem, goes to sleep reading a fantastical legend, dreams +of the Western Wall, Mother Rachel's Grave, the Cave of Machpelah, and +other holy, quiet places—places where the air is full of old stories +such as are given, in such easy Hebrew, in the Tales of Jerusalem.</p> + +<p>But when the fruit is ripe, and the trees begin to bend under the burden +of it, Avròhom must perforce leave his peaceful world, and become a +trader.</p> + +<p>When the first wind begins to blow in the orchard, and covers the ground +thereof with apples and pears, Avròhom collects them, makes them into +heaps, sorts them, and awaits the market-women with their loud tongues, +who destroy all the peace and quiet of his Garden of Eden.</p> + +<p>On Sabbath he would like to rest, but of a Sabbath the trade in +apples—on tick of course—is very lively in the orchards. There is a +custom in the town to that effect, and Avròhom cannot do away with it. +Young gentlemen and young ladies come into the orchard, and hold a sort +of revel; they sing and laugh, they walk and they chatter, and Avròhom +must listen to it all, and bear it, and wait for the night, when he can +creep back into his hut, and need look at no one but the trees, and hear +nothing but the wind, and sometimes the rain and the thunder.</p> + +<p>But it is worse in the autumn, when the fruit is getting over-ripe, and +he can no longer remain in the orchard. With a bursting heart he bids +farewell to<a name="page_432" id="page_432"></a> the trees, to the hut in which he has spent so many quiet, +peaceful moments. He conveys the apples to a shed belonging to the farm, +which he has hired, ever since he had the orchard, for ten gulden a +month, and goes back to the Gass.</p> + +<p>In the Gass, at that time, there is mud and rain. Town Jews drag +themselves along sick and disheartened. They cough and groan. Avròhom +stares round him, and fails to recognize the world.</p> + +<p>"Bad!" he mutters. "Fê!" and he spits. "Where is one to get to?"</p> + +<p>And Avròhom recalls the beautiful legends in the Tales of Jerusalem, he +recalls the land of Israel.</p> + +<p>There he knows it is always summer, always warm and fine. And every +autumn the vision draws him.</p> + +<p>But there is no possibility of his being able to go there—he must sell +the apples which he has brought from the orchard, and feed the wife and +the children he has "outside the land." And all through the autumn and +part of the winter, Avròhom drags himself about with a basket of apples +on his arm and a yearning in his heart. He waits for the dear summer, +when he will be able to go back and hide himself in the orchard, in the +hut, and be alone, where the town mud and the town Jews with dulled +senses shall be out of sight, and the week-day noise, out of hearing.<a name="page_433" id="page_433"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="HIRSH_DAVID_NAUMBERG" id="HIRSH_DAVID_NAUMBERG"></a>HIRSH DAVID NAUMBERG</h3> + +<p>Born, 1876, in Msczczonow, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland, of +Hasidic parentage; traditional Jewish education in the house of his +grandfather; went to Warsaw in 1898; at present (1912) in America; first +literary work appeared in 1900; writer of stories, etc., in Hebrew and +Yiddish; co-editor of Ha-Zofeh, Der Freind, Ha-Boker; contributor to +Ha-Zeman, Heint, Ha-Dor, Ha-Shiloah, etc.; collected works, 5 vols., +Warsaw, 1908-1911.</p> + +<p><a name="page_434" id="page_434"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_435" id="page_435"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_RAV_AND_THE_RAVS_SON" id="THE_RAV_AND_THE_RAVS_SON"></a>THE RAV AND THE RAV'S SON</h3> + +<p>The Sabbath midday meal is over, and the Saken Rav passes his hands +across his serene and pious countenance, pulls out both earlocks, +straightens his skull-cap, and prepares to expound a passage of the +Torah as God shall enlighten him. There sit with him at table, to one +side of him, a passing guest, a Libavitch Chossid, like the Rav himself, +a man with yellow beard and earlocks, and a grubby shirt collar +appearing above the grubby yellow kerchief that envelopes his throat; to +the other side of him, his son Sholem, an eighteen-year-old youth, with +a long pale face, deep, rather dreamy eyes, a velvet hat, but no +earlocks, a secret Maskil, who writes Hebrew verses, and contemplates +growing into a great Jewish author. The Rebbetzin has been suffering two +or three months with rheumatism, and lies in another room.</p> + +<p>The Rav is naturally humble-minded, and it is no trifle to him to +expound the Torah. To take a passage of the Bible and say, The meaning +is this and that, is a thing he hasn't the cheek to do. It makes him +feel as uncomfortable as if he were telling lies. Up to twenty-five +years of age he was a Misnaggid, but under the influence of the Saken +Rebbetzin, he became a Chossid, bit by bit. Now he is over fifty, he +drives to the Rebbe, and comes home every time with increased faith in +the latter's supernatural powers, and, moreover, with a strong desire to +expound a little of the Torah himself; only, whenever a good idea comes +into his head, it<a name="page_436" id="page_436"></a> oppresses him, because he has not sufficient +self-confidence to express it.</p> + +<p>The difficulty for him lies in making a start. He would like to do as +the Rebbe does (long life to him!)—give a push to his chair, a look, +stern and somewhat angry, at those sitting at table, then a groaning +sigh. But the Rav is ashamed to imitate him, or is partly afraid, lest +people should catch him doing it. He drops his eyes, holds one hand to +his forehead, while the other plays with the knife on the table, and one +hardly hears:</p> + +<p>"When thou goest forth to war with thine enemy—thine enemy—that is, +the inclination to evil, oi, oi,—a—" he nods his head, gathers a +little confidence, continues his explanation of the passage, and +gradually warms to the part. He already looks the stranger boldly in the +face. The stranger twists himself into a correct attitude, nods assent, +but cannot for the life of him tear his gaze from the brandy-bottle on +the table, and cannot wonder sufficiently at so much being allowed to +remain in it at the end of a meal. And when the Rav comes to the fact +that to be in "prison" means to have bad habits, and "well-favored +woman" means that every bad habit has its good side, the guest can no +longer restrain himself, seizes the bottle rather awkwardly, as though +in haste, fills up his glass, spills a little onto the cloth, and drinks +with his head thrown back, gulping it like a regular tippler, after a +hoarse and sleepy "to your health." This has a bad effect on the Rav's +enthusiasm, it "mixes his brains," and he turns to his son for help. To +tell the truth, he has not much confidence in his son where the Law is +concerned, although he<a name="page_437" id="page_437"></a> loves him dearly, the boy being the only one of +his children in whom he may hope, with God's help, to have comfort, and +who, a hundred years hence, shall take over from him the office of Rav +in Saken. The elder son is rich, but he is a usurer, and his riches give +the Rav no satisfaction whatever. He had had one daughter, but she died, +leaving some little orphans. Sholem is, therefore, the only one left +him. He has a good head, and is quick at his studies, a quiet, +well-behaved boy, a little obstinate, a bit opinionated, but that is no +harm in a boy, thinks the old man. True, too, that last week people told +him tales. Sholem, they said, read heretical books, and had been seen +carrying "burdens" on Sabbath. But this the father does not believe, he +will not and cannot believe it. Besides, Sholem is certain to have made +amends. If a Talmid-Chochem commit a sin by day, it should be forgotten +by nightfall, because a Talmid-Chochem makes amends, it says so in the +Gemoreh.</p> + +<p>However, the Rav is ashamed to give his own exegesis of the Law before +his son, and he knows perfectly well that nothing will induce Sholem to +drive with him to the Rebbe.</p> + +<p>But the stranger and his brandy-drinking have so upset him that he now +looks at his son in a piteous sort of way. "Hear me out, Sholem, what +harm can it do you?" says his look.</p> + +<p>Sholem draws himself up, and pulls in his chair, supports his head with +both his hands, and gazes into his father's eyes out of filial duty. He +loves his father, but in his heart he wonders at him; it seems to him<a name="page_438" id="page_438"></a> +his father ought to learn more about his heretical leanings—it is quite +time he should—and he continues to gaze in silence and in wonder, not +unmixed with compassion, and never ceases thinking, "Upon my word, Tate, +what a simpleton you are!"</p> + +<p>But when the Rav came in the course of his exposition to speak of "death +by kissing" (by the Lord), and told how the righteous, the holy +Tzaddikim, die from the very sweetness of the Blessed One's kiss, a +spark kindled in Sholem's eyes, and he moved in his chair. One of those +wonders had taken place which do frequently occur, only they are seldom +remarked: the Chassidic exposition of the Torah had suggested to Sholem +a splendid idea for a romantic poem!</p> + +<p>It is an old commonplace that men take in, of what they hear and see, +that which pleases them. Sholem is fascinated. He wishes to die anyhow, +so what could be more appropriate and to the purpose than that his love +should kiss him on his death-bed, while, in that very instant, his soul +departs?</p> + +<p>The idea pleased him so immensely that immediately after grace, the +stranger having gone on his way, and the Rav laid himself down to sleep +in the other room, Sholem began to write. His heart beat violently while +he made ready, but the very act of writing out a poem after dinner on +Sabbath, in the room where his father settled the cases laid before him +by the townsfolk, was a bit of heroism well worth the risk. He took the +writing-materials out of his locked box, and, the pen and ink-pot in one +hand and a collection of manuscript verse in the other, he went on +tiptoe to the table.<a name="page_439" id="page_439"></a></p> + +<p>He folded back the table-cover, laid down his writing apparatus, and +took another look around to make sure no one was in the room. He counted +on the fact that when the Rav awoke from his nap, he always coughed, and +that when he walked he shuffled so with his feet, and made so much noise +with his long slippers, that one could hear him two rooms off. In short, +there was no need to be anxious.</p> + +<p>He grows calmer, reads the manuscript poems, and his face tells that he +is pleased. Now he wants to collect his thoughts for the new one, but +something or other hinders him. He unfastens the girdle, round his +waist, rolls it up, and throws it into the Rav's soft stuffed chair.</p> + +<p>And now that there is nothing to disturb from without, a second and +third wonder must take place within: the Rav's Torah, which was +transformed by Sholem's brain into a theme for romance, must now descend +into his heart, thence to pour itself onto the paper, and pass, by this +means, into the heads of Sholem's friends, who read his poems with +enthusiasm, and have sinful dreams afterwards at night.</p> + +<p>And he begins to imagine himself on his death-bed, sick and weak, unable +to speak, and with staring eyes. He sees nothing more, but he feels a +light, ethereal kiss on his cheek, and his soul is aware of a sweet +voice speaking. He tries to take out his hands from under the coverlet, +but he cannot—he is dying—it grows dark.</p> + +<p>A still brighter and more unusual gleam comes into Sholem's eyes, his +heart swells with emotion seeking an outlet, his brain works like +running machinery, a<a name="page_440" id="page_440"></a> whole dictionary of words, his whole treasure of +conceptions and ideas, is turned over and over so rapidly that the mind +is unconscious of its own efforts. His poetic instinct is searching for +what it needs. His hand works quietly, forming letter on letter, word on +word. Now and again Sholem lifts his eyes from the paper and looks +round, he has a feeling as though the four walls and the silence were +thinking to themselves: "Hush, hush! Disturb not the poet at his work of +creation! Disturb not the priest about to offer sacrifice to God."</p> + +<p class="top5">To the Rav, meanwhile, lying in the other room, there had come a fresh +idea for the exposition of the Torah, and he required to look up +something in a book. The door of the reception-room opened, the Rav +entered, and Sholem had not heard him.</p> + +<p>It was a pity to see the Rav's face, it was so contracted with dismay, +and a pity to see Sholem's when he caught sight of his father, who, +utterly taken aback, dropt into a seat exactly opposite Sholem, and gave +a groan—was it? or a cry?</p> + +<p>But he did not sit long, he did not know what one should do or say to +one's son on such an occasion; his heart and his eyes inclined to +weeping, and he retired into his own room. Sholem remained alone with a +very sore heart and a soul opprest. He put the writing-materials back +into their box, and went out with the manuscript verses tucked away +under his Tallis-koton.</p> + +<p>He went into the house-of-study, but it looked dreadfully dismal; the +benches were pushed about anyhow,<a name="page_441" id="page_441"></a> a sign that the last worshippers had +been in a great hurry to go home to dinner. The beadle was snoring on a +seat somewhere in a corner, as loud and as fast as if he were trying to +inhale all the air in the building, so that the next congregation might +be suffocated. The cloth on the platform reading-desk was crooked and +tumbled, the floor was dirty, and the whole place looked as dead as +though its Sabbath sleep were to last till the resurrection.</p> + +<p>He left the house-of-study, walked home and back again; up and down, +there and back, many times over. The situation became steadily clearer +to him; he wanted to justify himself, if only with a word, in his +father's eyes; then, again, he felt he must make an end, free himself +once and for all from the paternal restraint, and become a Jewish +author. Only he felt sorry for his father; he would have liked to do +something to comfort him. Only what? Kiss him? Put his arms round his +neck? Have his cry out before him and say, "Tatishe, you and I, we are +neither of us to blame!" Only how to say it so that the old man shall +understand? That is the question.</p> + +<p>And the Rav sat in his room, bent over a book in which he would fain +have lost himself. He rubbed his brow with both hands, but a stone lay +on his heart, a heavy stone; there were tears in his eyes, and he was +all but crying. He needed some living soul before whom he could pour out +the bitterness of his heart, and he had already turned to the Rebbetzin:</p> + +<p>"Zelde!" he called quietly.</p> + +<p>"A-h," sighed the Rebbetzin from her bed. "I feel bad; my foot aches, +Lord of the World! What is it?"<a name="page_442" id="page_442"></a></p> + +<p>"Nothing, Zelde. How are you getting on, eh?" He got no further with +her; he even mentally repented having so nearly added to her burden of +life.</p> + +<p>It was an hour or two before the Rav collected himself, and was able to +think over what had happened. And still he could not, would not, believe +that his son, Sholem, had broken the Sabbath, that he was worthy of +being stoned to death. He sought for some excuse for him, and found +none, and came at last to the conclusion that it was a work of Satan, a +special onset of the Tempter. And he kept on thinking of the Chassidic +legend of a Rabbi who was seen by a Chossid to smoke a pipe on Sabbath. +Only it was an illusion, a deception of the Evil One. But when, after he +had waited some time, no Sholem appeared, his heart began to beat more +steadily, the reality of the situation made itself felt, he got angry, +and hastily left the house in search of the Sabbath-breaker, intending +to make an example of him.</p> + +<p>Hardly, however, had he perceived his son walking to and fro in front of +the house-of-study, with a look of absorption and worry, than he stopped +short. He was afraid to go up to his son. Just then Sholem turned, they +saw each other, and the Rav had willy-nilly to approach him.</p> + +<p>"Will you come for a little walk?" asked the Rav gently, with downcast +eyes. Sholem made no reply, and followed him.</p> + +<p>They came to the Eruv, the Rav looked in all his pockets, found his +handkerchief, tied it round his neck, and glanced at his son with a kind +of prayer in his eye. Sholem tied his handkerchief round his neck.<a name="page_443" id="page_443"></a></p> + +<p>When they were outside the town, the old man coughed once and again and +said:</p> + +<p>"What is all this?"</p> + +<p>But Sholem was determined not to answer a word, and his father had to +summon all his courage to continue:</p> + +<p>"What is all this? Eh? Sabbath-breaking! It is—"</p> + +<p>He coughed and was silent.</p> + +<p>They were walking over a great, broad meadow, and Sholem had his gaze +fixed on a horse that was moving about with hobbled legs, while the Rav +shaded his eyes with one hand from the beams of the setting sun.</p> + +<p>"How can anyone break the Sabbath? Come now, is it right? Is it a thing +to do? Just to go and break the Sabbath! I knew Hebrew grammar, and +could write Hebrew, too, once upon a time, but break the Sabbath! Tell +me yourself, Sholem, what you think! When you have bad thoughts, how is +it you don't come to your father? I suppose I am your father, ha?" the +old man suddenly fired up. "Am I your father? Tell me—no? Am I perhaps +<i>not</i> your father?"</p> + +<p>"For I <i>am</i> his father," he reflected proudly. "That I certainly am, +there isn't the smallest doubt about it! The greatest heretic could not +deny it!"</p> + +<p>"You come to your father," he went on with more decision, and falling +into a Gemoreh chant, "and you tell him <i>all</i> about it. What harm can it +do to tell him? No harm whatever. I also used to be tempted by bad +thoughts. Therefore I began driving to the Rebbe of Libavitch. One +mustn't let oneself go! Do you hear me, Sholem? One mustn't let oneself +go!"<a name="page_444" id="page_444"></a></p> + +<p>The last words were long drawn out, the Rav emphasizing them with his +hands and wrinkling his forehead. Carried away by what he was saying, he +now felt all but sure that Sholem had not begun to be a heretic.</p> + +<p>"You see," he continued very gently, "every now and then we come to a +stumbling-block, but all the same, we should not—"</p> + +<p>Meantime, however, the manuscript folio of verses had been slipping out +from under Sholem's Four-Corners, and here it fell to the ground. The +Rav stood staring, as though startled out of a sweet dream by the cry of +"fire." He quivered from top to toe, and seized his earlocks with both +hands. For there could be no doubt of the fact that Sholem had now +broken the Sabbath a second time—by carrying the folio outside the town +limit. And worse still, he had practiced deception, by searching his +pockets when they had come to the Eruv, as though to make sure not to +transgress by having anything inside them.</p> + +<p>Sholem, too, was taken by surprise. He hung his head, and his eyes +filled with tears. The old man was about to say something, probably to +begin again with "What is all this?" Then he hastily stopt and snatched +up the folio, as though he were afraid Sholem might get hold of it +first.</p> + +<p>"Ha—ha—azoi!" he began panting. "Azoi! A heretic! A Goi."</p> + +<p>But it was hard for him to speak. He might not move from where he stood, +so long as he held the papers,<a name="page_445" id="page_445"></a> it being outside the Eruv. His ankles +were giving way, and he sat down to have a look at the manuscript.</p> + +<p>"Aha! Writing!" he exclaimed as he turned the leaves. "Come here to me," +he called to Sholem, who had moved a few steps aside. Sholem came and +stood obediently before him. "What is this?" asked the Rav, sternly.</p> + +<p>"Poems!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by poems? What is the good of them?" He felt that he +was growing weak again, and tried to stiffen himself morally. "What is +the good of them, heretic, tell me!"</p> + +<p>"They're just meant to read, Tatishe!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'read'? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, that's what you +want to be, is it? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, to lead others into heresy! +No! I won't have it! On no account will I have it!"</p> + +<p>The sun had begun to disappear; it was full time to go home; but the Rav +did not know what to do with the folio. He was afraid to leave it in the +field, lest Sholem or another should pick it up later, so he got up and +began to recite the Afternoon Prayer. Sholem remained standing in his +place, and tried to think of nothing and to do nothing.</p> + +<p>The old man finished "Sacrifices," tucked the folio into his girdle, +and, without moving a step, looked at Sholem, who did not move either.</p> + +<p>"Say the Afternoon Prayer, Shegetz!" commanded the old man.</p> + +<p>Sholem began to move his lips. And the Rav felt, as he went on with the +prayer, that this anger was cooling<a name="page_446" id="page_446"></a> down. Before he came to the +Eighteen Benedictions, he gave another look at his son, and it seemed +madness to think of him as a heretic, to think that Sholem ought by +rights to be thrown into a ditch and stoned to death.</p> + +<p>Sholem, for his part, was conscious for the first time of his father's +will: for the first time in his life, he not only loved his father, but +was in very truth subject to him.</p> + +<p>The flaming red sun dropt quietly down behind the horizon just before +the old man broke down with emotion over "Thou art One," and took the +sky and the earth to witness that God is One and His Name is One, and +His people Israel one nation on the earth, to whom He gave the Sabbath +for a rest and an inheritance. The Rav wept and swallowed his tears, and +his eyes were closed. Sholem, on the other hand, could not take his eye +off the manuscript that stuck out of his father's girdle, and it was all +he could do not to snatch it and run away.</p> + +<p>They said nothing on the way home in the dark, they might have been +coming from a funeral. But Sholem's heart beat fast, for he knew his +father would throw the manuscript into the fire, where it would be +burnt, and when they came to the door of their house, he stopped his +father, and said in a voice eloquent of tears:</p> + +<p>"Give it me back, Tatishe, please give it me back!"</p> + +<p>And the Rav gave it him back without looking him in the face, and said:</p> + +<p>"Look here, only don't tell Mother! She is ill, she mustn't be upset. +She is ill, not of you be it spoken!"<a name="page_447" id="page_447"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="MEYER_BLINKIN" id="MEYER_BLINKIN"></a>MEYER BLINKIN</h3> + +<p>Born, 1879, in a village near Pereyaslav, Government of Poltava, Little +Russia, of Hasidic parentage; educated in Kieff, where he acquired the +trade of carpenter in order to win the right of residence; studied +medicine; began to write in 1906; came to New York in 1908; writer of +stories to the number of about fifty, which have been published in +various periodicals; wrote also Der Sod, and Dr. Makower.</p> + +<p><a name="page_448" id="page_448"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_449" id="page_449"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="WOMEN" id="WOMEN"></a>WOMEN</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Prose Poem</span></p> + +<p>Hedged round with tall, thick woods, as though designedly, so that no +one should know what happens there, lies the long-drawn-out old town of +Pereyaslav.</p> + +<p>To the right, connected with Pereyaslav by a wooden bridge, lies another +bit of country, named—Pidvorkes.</p> + +<p>The town itself, with its long, narrow, muddy streets, with the crowded +houses propped up one against the other like tombstones, with their +meagre grey walls all to pieces, with the broken window-panes stuffed +with rags—well, the town of Pereyaslav was hardly to be distinguished +from any other town inhabited by Jews.</p> + +<p>Here, too, people faded before they bloomed. Here, too, men lived on +miracles, were fruitful and multiplied out of all season and reason. +They talked of a livelihood, of good times, of riches and pleasures, +with the same appearance of firm conviction, and, at the same time the +utter disbelief, with which one tells a legend read in a book.</p> + +<p>And they really supposed these terms to be mere inventions of the +writers of books and nothing more! For not only were they incapable of a +distinct conception of their real meaning, but some had even given up +the very hope of ever being able to earn so much as a living, and +preferred not to reach out into the world with their thoughts, straining +them for<a name="page_450" id="page_450"></a> nothing, that is, for the sake of a thing so plainly out of +the question as a competence. At night the whole town was overspread by +a sky which, if not grey with clouds, was of a troubled and washed-out +blue. But the people were better off than by day. Tired out, +overwrought, exhausted, prematurely aged as they were, they sought and +found comfort in the lap of the dreamy, secret, inscrutable night. Their +misery was left far behind, and they felt no more grief and pain.</p> + +<p>An unknown power hid everything from them as though with a thick, damp, +stone wall, and they heard and saw nothing.</p> + +<p>They did not hear the weak voices, like the mewing of blind kittens, of +their pining children, begging all day for food as though on purpose—as +though they knew there was none to give them. They did not hear the +sighs and groans of their friends and neighbors, filling the air with +the hoarse sound of furniture dragged across the floor; they did not +see, in sleep, Death-from-hunger swing quivering, on threads of +spider-web, above their heads.</p> + +<p>Even the little fires that flickered feverishly on their hearths, and +testified to the continued existence of breathing men, even these they +saw no longer. Silence cradled everything to sleep, extinguished it, and +caused it to be forgotten.</p> + +<p>Hardly, however, was it dawn, hardly had the first rays pierced beneath +the closed eyelids, before a whole world of misery awoke and came to +life again.</p> + +<p>The frantic cries of hundreds of starving children, despairing +exclamations and imprecations and other<a name="page_451" id="page_451"></a> piteous sounds filled the air. +One gigantic curse uncoiled and crept from house to house, from door to +door, from mouth to mouth, and the population began to move, to bestir +themselves, to run hither and thither.</p> + +<p>Half-naked, with parched bones and shrivelled skin, with sunken yet +burning eyes, they crawled over one another like worms in a heap, +fastened on to the bites in each other's mouth, and tore them away—</p> + +<p>But this is summer, and they are feeling comparatively cheerful, bold, +and free in their movements. They are stifled and suffocated, they are +in a melting-pot with heat and exhaustion, but there are +counter-balancing advantages; one can live for weeks at a time without +heating the stove; indeed, it is pleasanter indoors without fire, and +lighting will cost very little, now the evenings are short.</p> + +<p>In winter it was different. An inclement sky, an enfeebled sun, a sick +day, and a burning, biting frost!</p> + +<p>People, too, were different. A bitterness came over them, and they went +about anxious and irritable, with hanging head, possessed by gloomy +despair. It never even occurred to them to tear their neighbor's bite +out of his mouth, so depressed and preoccupied did they become. The days +were months, the evenings years, and the weeks—oh! the weeks were +eternities!</p> + +<p>And no one knew of their misery but the winter wind that tore at their +roofs and howled in their all but smokeless chimneys like one bewitched, +like a lost soul condemned to endless wandering.</p> + +<p>But there were bright stars in the abysmal darkness; their one pride and +consolation were the Pidvorkes,<a name="page_452" id="page_452"></a> the inhabitants of the aforementioned +district of that name. Was it a question of the upkeep of a Reader or of +a bath, the support of a burial-society, of a little hospital or refuge, +a Rabbi, of providing Sabbath loaves for the poor, flour for the +Passover, the dowry of a needy bride—the Pidvorkes were ready! The sick +and lazy, the poverty-stricken and hopeless, found in them support and +protection. The Pidvorkes! They were an inexhaustible well that no one +had ever found to fail them, unless the Pidvorke husbands happened to be +present, on which occasion alone one came away with empty hands.</p> + +<p>The fair fame of the Pidvorkes extended beyond Pereyaslav to all poor +towns in the neighborhood. Talk of husbands—they knew about the +Pidvorkes a hundred miles round; the least thing, and they pointed out +to their wives how they should take a lesson from the Pidvorke women, +and then they would be equally rich and happy.</p> + +<p>It was not because the Pidvorkes had, within their border, great, green +velvety hills and large gardens full of flowers that they had reason to +be proud, or others, to be proud of them; not because wide fields, +planted with various kinds of corn, stretched for miles around them, the +delicate ears swaying in sunshine and wind; not even because there +flowed round the Pidvorkes a river so transparent, so full of the +reflection of the sky, you could not decide which was the bluest of the +two. Pereyaslav at any rate was not affected by any of these things, +perhaps knew nothing of them, and certainly did not wish to know +anything, for whoso dares to let his<a name="page_453" id="page_453"></a> mind dwell on the like, sins +against God. Is it a Jewish concern? A townful of men who have a God, +and religious duties to perform, with reward and punishment, who have +<i>that</i> world to prepare for, and a wife and children in <i>this</i> one, +people must be mad (of the enemies of Zion be it said!) to stare at the +sky, the fields, the river, and all the rest of it—things which a man +on in years ought to blush to talk about.</p> + +<p>No, they are proud of the Pidvorke women, and parade them continually. +The Pidvorke women are no more attractive, no taller, no cleverer than +others. They, too, bear children and suckle them, one a year, after the +good old custom; neither are they more thought of by their husbands. On +the contrary, they are the best abused and tormented women going, and +herein lies their distinction.</p> + +<p>They put up, with the indifference of all women alike, to the belittling +to which they are subjected by their husbands; they swallow their +contempt by the mouthful without a reproach, and yet they are +exceptions; and yet they are distinguished from all other women, as the +rushing waters of the Dnieper from the stagnant pools in the marsh.</p> + +<p>About five in the morning, when the men-folk turn in bed, and bury their +faces in the white feather pillows, emitting at the same time strange, +broken sounds through their big, stupid, red noses—at this early hour +their wives have transacted half-a-day's business in the market-place. +Dressed in short, light skirts with blue aprons, over which depends on +their left a large leather pocket for the receiving of coin and the +giving<a name="page_454" id="page_454"></a> out of change—one cannot be running every minute to the +cash-box—they stand in their shops with miscellaneous ware, and toil +hard. They weigh and measure, buy and sell, and all this with wonderful +celerity. There stands one of them by herself in a shop, and tries to +persuade a young, barefoot peasant woman to buy the printed cotton she +offers her, although the customer only wants a red cotton with a large, +flowery pattern. She talks without a pause, declaring that the young +peasant may depend upon her, she would not take her in for the world, +and, indeed, to no one else would she sell the article so cheap. But +soon her eye catches two other women pursuing a peasant man, and before +even making out whether he has any wares with him or not, she leaves her +customer and joins them. If they run, she feels so must she. The peasant +is sure to be wanting grease or salt, and that may mean ten kopeks' +unexpected gain. Meantime she is not likely to lose her present +customer, fascinated as the latter must be by her flow of speech.</p> + +<p>So she leaves her, and runs after the peasant, who is already surrounded +by a score of women, shrieking, one louder than the other, praising +their ware to the skies, and each trying to make him believe that he and +she are old acquaintances. But presently the tumult increases, there is +a cry, "Cheap fowls, who wants cheap fowls?" Some rich landholder has +sent out a supply of fowls to sell, and all the women swing round +towards the fowls, keeping a hold on the peasant's cart with their left +hand, so that you would think they wanted to drag peasant, horse, and +cart along with them. They<a name="page_455" id="page_455"></a> bargain for a few minutes with the seller of +fowls, and advise him not to be obstinate and to take their offers, else +he will regret it later.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a voice thunders, "The peasants are coming!" and they throw +themselves as for dear life upon the cart-loads of produce; they run as +though to a conflagration, get under each other's feet, their eyes +glisten as though they each wanted to pull the whole market aside. There +is a shrieking and scolding, until one or another gets the better of the +rest, and secures the peasant's wares. Then only does each woman +remember that she has customers waiting in her shop, and she runs in +with a beaming smile and tells them that, as they have waited so long, +they shall be served with the best and the most beautiful of her store.</p> + +<p>By eight o'clock in the morning, when the market is over, when they have +filled all the bottles left with them by their customers, counted up the +change and their gains, and each one has slipped a coin into her knotted +handkerchief, so that her husband should not know of its existence (one +simply must! One is only human—one is surely not expected to wrangle +with <i>him</i> about every farthing?)—then, when there is nothing more to +be done in the shops, they begin to gather in knots, and every one tells +at length the incidents and the happy strokes of business of the day. +They have forgotten all the bad luck they wished each other, all the +abuse they exchanged, while the market was in progress; they know that +"Parnosseh is Parnosseh," and bear no malice, or, if they do, it is only +if one has spoken unkindly of another during a period of quiet, on a +Sabbath or a holiday.<a name="page_456" id="page_456"></a></p> + +<p>Each talks with a special enthusiasm, and deep in her sunken eyes with +their blue-black rings there burns a proud, though tiny, fire, as she +recalls how she got the better of a customer, and sold something which +she had all but thrown away, and not only sold it, but better than +usual; or else they tell how late their husbands sleep, and then imagine +their wives are still in bed, and set about waking them, "It's time to +get up for the market," and they at once pretend to be sleepy—then, +when they have already been and come back!</p> + +<p>And very soon a voice is heard to tremble with pleasant excitement, and +a woman begins to relate the following:</p> + +<p>"Just you listen to me: I was up to-day when God Himself was still +asleep."—"That is not the way to talk, Sheine!" interrupts a +second.—"Well, well, well?" (there is a good deal of curiosity). "And +what happened?"—"It was this way: I went out quietly, so that no one +should hear, not to wake them, because when Lezer went to bed, it was +certainly one o'clock. There was a dispute of some sort at the Rabbi's. +You can imagine how early it was, because I didn't even want to wake +Soreh, otherwise she always gets up when I do (never mind, it won't hurt +her to learn from her mother!). And at half past seven, when I saw there +were no more peasants coming in to market, I went to see what was going +on indoors. I heard my man calling me to wake up: 'Sheine, Sheine, +Sheine!' and I go quietly and lean against the bed, and wait to hear +what will happen next. 'Look here!—There is no waking<a name="page_457" id="page_457"></a> her!—Sheine! +It's getting-up time and past! Are you deaf or half-witted? What's come +to you this morning?' I was so afraid I should laugh. I gave a jump and +called out, O woe is me, why ever didn't you wake me sooner? Bandit! +It's already eight o'clock!"</p> + +<p>Her hearers go off into contented laughter, which grows clearer, softer, +more contented still. Each one tells her tale of how <i>she</i> was wakened +by her husband, and one tells this joke: Once, when her husband had +called to rouse her (he also usually woke her <i>after</i> market), she +answered that on that morning she did not intend to get up for market, +that <i>he</i> might go for once instead. This apparently pleases them still +better, for their laughter renews itself, more spontaneous and hearty +even than before. Each makes a witty remark, each feels herself in merry +mood, and all is cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>They would wax a little more serious only when they came to talk of +their daughters. A woman would begin by trying to recall her daughter's +age, and beg a second one to help her remember when the girl was born, +so that she might not make a mistake in the calculation. And when it +came to one that had a daughter of sixteen, the mother fell into a brown +study; she felt herself in a very, very critical position, because when +a girl comes to that age, one ought soon to marry her. And there is +really nothing to prevent it: money enough will be forthcoming, only let +the right kind of suitor present himself, one, that is, who shall insist +on a well-dowered bride, because otherwise—what sort of a suitor do you +call that? She<a name="page_458" id="page_458"></a> will have enough to live on, they will buy a shop for +her, she is quite capable of managing it—only let Heaven send a young +man of acceptable parentage, so that one's husband shall have no need to +blush with shame when he is asked about his son-in-law's family and +connections.</p> + +<p>And this is really what they used to do, for when their daughters were +sixteen, they gave them in marriage, and at twenty the daughters were +"old," much-experienced wives. They knew all about teething, +chicken-pox, measles, and more besides, even about croup. If a young +mother's child fell ill, she hastened to her bosom crony, who knew a lot +more than she, having been married one whole year or two sooner, and got +advice as to what should be done.</p> + +<p>The other would make close inquiry whether the round swellings about the +child's neck increased in size and wandered, that is, appeared at +different times and different places, in which case it was positively +nothing serious, but only the tonsils. But if they remained in one place +and grew larger, the mother must lose no time, but must run to the +doctor.</p> + +<p>Their daughters knew that they needed to lay by money, not only for a +dowry, but because a girl ought to have money of her own. They knew as +well as their mothers that a bridegroom would present himself and ask a +lot of money (the best sign of his being the right sort!), and they +prayed God for the same without ceasing.</p> + +<p>No sooner were they quit of household matters than they went over to the +discussion of their connections and alliances—it was the greatest +pleasure they had.<a name="page_459" id="page_459"></a></p> + +<p>The fact that their children, especially their daughters, were so +discreet that not one (to speak in a good hour and be silent in a bad!) +had as yet ever (far be it from the speaker to think of such a thing!) +given birth to a bastard, as was known to happen in other places—this +was the crowning point of their joy and exultation.</p> + +<p>It even made up to them for the other fact, that they never got a good +word from their husbands for their hard, unnatural toil.</p> + +<p>And as they chat together, throwing in the remark that "the apple never +falls far from the tree," that their daughters take after them in +everything, the very wrinkles vanish from their shrivelled faces, a +spring of refreshment and blessedness wells up in their hearts, they are +lifted above their cares, a feeling of relaxation comes over them, as +though a soothing balsam had penetrated their strained and weary limbs.</p> + +<p>Meantime the daughters have secrets among themselves. They know a +quantity of interesting things that have happened in their quarter, but +no one else gets to know of them; they are imparted more with the eyes +than with the lips, and all is quiet and confidential.</p> + +<p>And if the great calamity had not now befallen the Pidvorkes, had it not +stretched itself, spread its claws with such an evil might, had the +shame not been so deep and dreadful, all might have passed off quietly +as always. But the event was so extraordinary, so cruelly unique—such a +thing had not happened since girls were girls, and bridegrooms, +bridegrooms, in the Pidvorkes<a name="page_460" id="page_460"></a>—that it inevitably became known to all. +Not (preserve us!) to the men—they know of nothing, and need to know of +nothing—only to the women. But how much can anyone keep to oneself? It +will rise to the surface, and lie like oil on the water.</p> + +<p>From early morning on the women have been hissing and steaming, bubbling +and boiling over. They are not thinking of Parnosseh; they have +forgotten all about Parnosseh; they are in such a state, they have even +forgotten about themselves. There is a whole crowd of them packed like +herrings, and all fire and flame. But the male passer-by hears nothing +of what they say, he only sees the troubled faces and the drooping +heads; they are ashamed to look into one another's eyes, as though they +themselves were responsible for the great affliction. An appalling +misfortune, an overwhelming sense of shame, a yellow-black spot on their +reputation weighs them to the ground. Uncleanness has forced itself into +their sanctuary and defiled it; and now they seek a remedy, and means to +save themselves, like one drowning; they want to heal the plague spot, +to cover it up, so that no one shall find it out. They stand and think, +and wrinkle the brows so used to anxiety; their thoughts evolve rapidly, +and yet no good result comes of it, no one sees a way of escape out of +the terrifying net in which the worst of all evil has entangled them. +Should a stranger happen to come upon them now, one who has heard of +them, but never seen them, he would receive a shock. The whole of +Pidvorkes looks quite different, the women, the streets, the very sun +shines differently, with<a name="page_461" id="page_461"></a> pale and narrow beams, which, instead of +cheering, seem to burden the heart.</p> + +<p>The little grey-curled clouds with their ragged edges, which have +collected somewhere unbeknown, and race across the sky, look down upon +the women, and whisper among themselves. Even the old willows, for whom +the news is no novelty, for many more and more complicated mysteries +have come to their knowledge, even they look sad, while the swallows, by +the depressed and gloomy air with which they skim the water, plainly +express their opinion, which is no other than this: God is punishing the +Pidvorkes for <i>their</i> great sin, what time they carried fire in their +beaks, long ago, to destroy the Temple.</p> + +<p>God bears long with people's iniquity, but he rewards in full at the +last.</p> + +<p>The peasants driving slowly to market, unmolested and unobstructed, +neither dragged aside nor laid forcible hold of, were singularly +disappointed. They began to think the Jews had left the place.</p> + +<p>And the women actually forgot for very trouble that it was market-day. +They stood with hands folded, and turned feverishly to every newcomer. +What does she say to it? Perhaps she can think of something to advise.</p> + +<p>No one answered; they could not speak; they had nothing to say; they +only felt that a great wrath had been poured out on them, heavy as lead, +that an evil spirit had made its way into their life, and was keeping +them in a perpetual state of terror; and that, were they now to hold +their peace, and not make an end, God<a name="page_462" id="page_462"></a> Almighty only knows what might +come of it! No one felt certain that to-morrow or the day after the same +thunderbolt might not fall on another of them.</p> + +<p>Somebody made a movement in the crowd, and there was a sudden silence, +as though all were preparing to listen to a weak voice, hardly louder +than stillness itself. Their eyes widened, their faces were contracted +with annoyance and a consciousness of insult. Their hearts beat faster, +but without violence. Suddenly there was a shock, a thrill, and they +looked round with startled gaze, to see whence it came, and what was +happening. And they saw a woman forcing her way frantically through the +crowd, her hands working, her lips moving as in fever, her eyes flashing +fire, and her voice shaking as she cried: "Come on and see me settle +them! First I shall thrash <i>him</i>, and then I shall go for <i>her</i>! We must +make a cinder-heap of them; it's all we can do."</p> + +<p>She was a tall, bony woman, with broad shoulders, who had earned for +herself the nickname Cossack, by having, with her own hands, beaten off +three peasants who wanted to strangle her husband, he, they declared, +having sold them by false weight—it was the first time he had ever +tried to be of use to her.</p> + +<p>"But don't shout so, Breindel!" begged a woman's voice.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'don't shout'! Am I going to hold my tongue? Never +you mind, I shall take no water into my mouth. I'll teach them, the +apostates, to desecrate the whole town!"</p> + +<p>"But don't shout so!" beg several more.<a name="page_463" id="page_463"></a></p> + +<p>Breindel takes no notice. She clenches her right fist, and, fighting the +air with it, she vociferates louder than ever:</p> + +<p>"What has happened, women? What are you frightened of? Look at them, if +they are not all a little afraid! That's what brings trouble. Don't let +us be frightened, and we shall spare ourselves in the future. We shall +not be in terror that to-morrow or the day after (they had best not live +to hear of it, sweet Father in Heaven!) another of us should have this +come upon her!"</p> + +<p>Breindel's last words made a great impression. The women started as +though someone had poured cold water over them without warning. A few +even began to come forward in support of Breindel's proposal. Soreh Leoh +said: She advised going, but only to him, the bridegroom, and telling +him not to give people occasion to laugh, and not to cause distress to +her parents, and to agree to the wedding's taking place to-day or +to-morrow, before anything happened, and to keep quiet.</p> + +<p>"I say, he shall not live to see it; he shall not be counted worthy to +have us come begging favors of him!" cried an angry voice.</p> + +<p>But hereupon rose that of a young woman from somewhere in the crowd, and +all the others began to look round, and no one knew who it was speaking. +At first the young voice shook, then it grew firmer and firmer, so that +one could hear clearly and distinctly what was said:</p> + +<p>"You might as well spare yourselves the trouble of talking about a +thrashing; it's all nonsense; besides,<a name="page_464" id="page_464"></a> why add to her parents' grief by +going to them? Isn't it bad enough for them already? If we really want +to do something, the best would be to say nothing to anybody, not to get +excited, not to ask anybody's help, and let us make a collection out of +our own pockets. Never mind! God will repay us twice what we give. Let +us choose out two of us, to take him the money quietly, so that no one +shall know, because once a whisper of it gets abroad, it will be carried +over seven seas in no time; you know that walls have ears, and streets, +eyes."</p> + +<p>The women had been holding their breath and looking with pleasurable +pride at young Malkehle, married only two months ago and already so +clever! The great thick wall of dread and shame against which they had +beaten their heads had retreated before Malkehle's soft words; they felt +eased; the world grew lighter again. Every one felt envious in her heart +of hearts of her to whose apt and golden speech they had just listened. +Everyone regretted that such an excellent plan had not occurred to +herself. But they soon calmed down, for after all it was a sister who +had spoken, one of their own Pidvorkes. They had never thought that +Malkehle, though she had been considered clever as a girl, would take +part in their debate; and they began to work out a plan for getting +together the necessary money, only so quietly that not a cock should +crow.</p> + +<p>And now their perplexities began! Not one of them could give such a +great sum, and even if they all clubbed together, it would still be +impossible. They could manage one hundred, two hundred, three hundred +rubles, but the dowry was six hundred, and now he says, that<a name="page_465" id="page_465"></a> unless +they give one thousand, he will break off the engagement. What, says he, +there will be a summons out against him? Very likely! He will just risk +it. The question went round: Who kept a store in a knotted handkerchief, +hidden from her husband? They each had such a store, but were all the +contents put together, the half of the sum would not be attained, not by +a long way.</p> + +<p>And again there arose a tempest, a great confusion of women's tongues. +Part of the crowd started with fiery eloquence to criticise their +husbands, the good-for-nothings, the slouching lazybones; they proved +that as their husbands did nothing to earn money, but spent all their +time "learning," there was no need to be afraid of them; and if once in +a way they wanted some for themselves, nobody had the right to say them +nay. Others said that the husbands were, after all, the elder, one must +and should ask their advice! They were wiser and knew best, and why +should they, the women (might the words not be reckoned as a sin!), be +wiser than the rest of the world put together? And others again cried +that there was no need that they should divorce their husbands because a +girl was with child, and the bridegroom demanded the dowry twice over.</p> + +<p>The noise increased, till there was no distinguishing one voice from +another, till one could not make out what her neighbor was saying: she +only knew that she also must shriek, scold, and speak her mind. And who +knows what would have come of it, if Breindel-Cossack, with her powerful +gab, had not begun to shout, that she and Malkehle had a good idea, +which would<a name="page_466" id="page_466"></a> please everyone very much, and put an end to the whole +dispute.</p> + +<p>All became suddenly dumb; there was a tense silence, as at the first of +the two recitals of the Eighteen Benedictions; the women only cast +inquiring looks at Malkehle and Breindel, who both felt their cheeks +hot. Breindel, who, ever since the wise Malkehle had spoken such golden +words, had not left her side, now stepped forward, and her voice +trembled with emotion and pleasant excitement as she said: "Malkehle and +I think like this: that we ought to go to Chavvehle, she being so wise +and so well-educated, a doctor's wife, and tell her the whole story from +beginning to end, so that she may advise us, and if you are ashamed to +speak to her yourselves, you should leave it to us two, only on the +condition that you go with us. Don't be frightened, she is kind; she +will listen to us."</p> + +<p>A faint smile, glistening like diamond dust, shone on all faces; their +eyes brightened and their shoulders straightened, as though just +released from a heavy burden. They all knew Chavvehle for a good and +gracious woman, who was certain to give them some advice; she did many +such kindnesses without being asked; she had started the school, and she +taught their children for nothing; she always accompanied her husband on +his visits to the sick-room, and often left a coin of her own money +behind to buy a fowl for the invalid. It was even said that she had +written about them in the newspapers! She was very fond of them. When +she talked with them, her manner was simple, as though they were her +equals, and she would ask them all about everything,<a name="page_467" id="page_467"></a> like any plain +Jewish housewife. And yet they were conscious of a great distance +between them and Chavveh. They would have liked Chavveh to hear nothing +of them but what was good, to stand justified in her eyes as (ten times +lehavdil) in those of a Christian. They could not have told why, but the +feeling was there.</p> + +<p>They are proud of Chavveh; it is an honor for them each and all (and who +are they that they should venture to pretend to it?) to possess such a +Chavveh, who was highly spoken of even by rich Gentiles. Hence this +embarrassed smile at the mention of her name; she would certainly +advise, but at the same time they avoided each other's look. The wise +Malkeh had the same feeling, but she was able to cheer the rest. Never +mind! It doesn't matter telling her. She is a Jewish daughter, too, and +will keep it to herself. These things happen behind the "high windows" +also. Whereupon they all breathed more freely, and went up the hill to +Chavveh. They went in serried ranks, like soldiers, shoulder to +shoulder, relief and satisfaction reflected in their faces. All who met +them made way for them, stood aside, and wondered what it meant. Some of +their own husbands even stood and looked at the marching women, but not +one dared to go up to them and ask what was doing. Their object grew +dearer to them at every step. A settled resolve and a deep sense of +goodwill to mankind urged them on. They all felt that they were going in +a good cause, and would thereby bar the road to all such occurrences in +the future.</p> + +<p>The way to Chavveh was long. She lived quite outside the Pidvorkes, and +they had to go through the whole<a name="page_468" id="page_468"></a> market-place with the shops, which +stood close to one another, as though they held each other by the hand, +and then only through narrow lanes of old thatched peasant huts, with +shy little window-panes. But beside nearly every hut stood a couple of +acacia-trees, and the foam-white blossoms among the young green leaves +gave a refreshing perfume to the neighborhood. Emerging from the +streets, they proceeded towards a pretty hill planted with +pink-flowering quince-trees. A small, clear stream flowed below it to +the left, so deceptively clear that it reflected the hillside in all its +natural tints. You had to go quite close in order to make sure it was +only a delusion, when the stream met your gaze as seriously as though +there were no question of <i>it</i> at all.</p> + +<p>On the top of the hill stood Chavveh's house, adorned like a bride, +covered with creepers and quinces, and with two large lamps under white +glass shades, upheld in the right hands of two statues carved in white +marble. The distance had not wearied them; they had walked and conversed +pleasantly by the way, each telling a story somewhat similar to the one +that had occasioned their present undertaking.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "mine tried to play +me a trick with the dowry, too? It was immediately before the ceremony, +and he insisted obstinately that unless a silver box and fifty rubles +were given to him in addition to what had been promised to him, he would +not go under the marriage canopy!"</p> + +<p>"Well, if it hadn't been Zorah, it would have been Chayyim Treitel," +observed some one, ironically.<a name="page_469" id="page_469"></a></p> + +<p>They all laughed, but rather weakly, just for the sake of laughing; not +one of them really wished to part from her husband, even in cases where +he disliked her, and they quarrelled. No indignity they suffered at +their husbands' hands could hurt them so deeply as a wish on his part to +live separately. After all they are man and wife. They quarrel and make +it up again.</p> + +<p>And when they spied Chavvehle's house in the distance, they all cried +out joyfully, with one accord:</p> + +<p>"There is Chavvehle's house!" Once more they forgot about themselves; +they were filled with enthusiasm for the common cause, and with a pain +that will lie forever at their heart should they not do all that sinful +man is able.</p> + +<p>The wise Malkehle's heart beat faster than anyone's. She had begun to +consider how she should speak to Chavvehle, and although apt, incisive +phrases came into her head, one after another, she felt that she would +never be able to come out with them in Chavvehle's presence; were it not +for the other women's being there, she would have felt at her ease.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden a voice exclaimed joyfully, "There we are at the house!" +All lifted their heads, and their eyes were gladdened by the sight of +the tall flowers arranged about a round table, in the shelter of a +widely-branching willow, on which there shone a silver samovar. In and +out of the still empty tea-glasses there stole beams of the sinking sun, +as it dropt lower and lower behind the now dark-blue hill.</p> + +<p>"What welcome guests!" Chavveh met them with a sweet smile, and her eyes +awoke answering love and confidence in the women's hearts.<a name="page_470" id="page_470"></a></p> + +<p>Not a glance, not a movement betrayed surprise on Chavvehle's part, any +more than if she had been expecting them everyone.</p> + +<p>They felt that she was behaving like any sage, and were filled with a +sense of guilt towards her.</p> + +<p>Chavvehle excused herself to one or two other guests who were present, +and led the women into her summer-parlor, for she had evidently +understood that what they had come to say was for her ears only.</p> + +<p>They wanted to explain at once, but they couldn't, and the two who of +all found it hardest to speak were the selected spokeswomen, +Breindel-Cossack and Malkehle the wise. Chavvehle herself tried to lead +them out of their embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"You evidently have something important to tell me," she said, "for +otherwise one does not get a sight of you."</p> + +<p>And now it seemed more difficult than ever, it seemed impossible ever to +tell the angelic Chavvehle of the bad action about which they had come. +They all wished silently that their children might turn out one-tenth as +good as she was, and their impulse was to take Chavvehle into their +arms, kiss her and hug her, and cry a long, long time on her shoulder; +and if she cried with them, it would be so comforting.</p> + +<p>Chavvehle was silent. Her great, wide-open blue eyes grew more and more +compassionate as she gazed at the faces of her sisters; it seemed as +though they were reading for themselves the sorrowful secret the women +had come to impart.</p> + +<p>And the more they were impressed with her tactful behavior, and the more +they felt the kindness of her gaze,<a name="page_471" id="page_471"></a> the more annoyed they grew with +themselves, the more tongue-tied they became. The silence was so intense +as to be almost seen and felt. The women held their breath, and only +exchanged roundabout glances, to find out what was going on in each +other's mind; and they looked first of all at the two who had undertaken +to speak, while the latter, although they did not see this, felt as if +every one's gaze was fixed upon them, wondering why they were silent and +holding all hearts by a thread.</p> + +<p>Chavvehle raised her head, and spoke sweetly:</p> + +<p>"Well, dear sisters, tell me a little of what it is about. Do you want +my help in any matter? I should be so glad——"</p> + +<p>"Dear sisters" she called them, and lightning-like it flashed through +their hearts that Chavveh was, indeed, their sister. How could they feel +otherwise when they had it from Chavveh herself? Was she not one of +their own people? Had she not the same God? True, her speech was a +little strange to them, and she was not overpious, but how should God be +angry with such a Chavveh as this? If it must be, let him punish <i>them</i> +for her sin; they would willingly suffer in her place.</p> + +<p>The sun had long set; the sky was grey, save for one red streak, and the +room had grown dark. Chavvehle rose to light the candles, and the women +started and wiped their tearful eyes, so that Chavveh should not remark +them. Chavveh saw the difficulty they had in opening their hearts to +her, and she began to speak to them of different things, offered them +refreshment<a name="page_472" id="page_472"></a> according to their several tastes, and now Malkehle felt a +little more courageous, and managed to say:</p> + +<p>"No, good, kind Chavvehle, we are not hungry. We have come to consult +with you on a very important matter!"</p> + +<p>And then Breindel tried hard to speak in a soft voice, but it sounded +gruff and rasping:</p> + +<p>"First of all, Chavveh, we want you to speak to us in Yiddish, not in +Polish. We are all Jewish women, thank God, together!"</p> + +<p>Chavvehle, who had nodded her head during the whole of Breindel's +speech, made another motion of assent with her silken eyebrows, and +replied:</p> + +<p>"I will talk Yiddish to you with pleasure, if that is what you prefer."</p> + +<p>"The thing is this, Chavvehle," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "it +is a shame and a sorrow to tell, but when the thunderbolt has fallen, +one must speak. You know Rochel Esther Leoh's. She is engaged, and the +wedding was to have been in eight weeks—and now she, the +good-for-nothing, is with child—and he, the son of perdition, says now +that if he isn't given more than five hundred rubles, he won't take +her——"</p> + +<p>Chavvehle was deeply troubled by their words. She saw how great was +their distress, and found, to her regret, that she had little to say by +way of consolation.</p> + +<p>"I feel with you," she said, "in your pain. But do not be so dismayed. +It is certainly very bad news, but these things will happen, you are not +the first——"</p> + +<p>She wanted to say more, but did not know how to continue.<a name="page_473" id="page_473"></a></p> + +<p>"But what are we to do?" asked several voices at once. "That is what we +came to you for, dearie, for you to advise us. Are we to give him all +the money he asks, or shall they both know as much happiness as we know +what to do else? Or are we to hang a stone round our necks and drown +ourselves for shame? Give us some advice, dear, help us!"</p> + +<p>Then Chavvehle understood that it was not so much the women who were +speaking and imploring, as their stricken hearts, their deep shame and +grief, and it was with increased sympathy that she answered them:</p> + +<p>"What can I say to help you, dear sisters? You have certainly not +deserved this blow; you have enough to bear as it is—things ought to +have turned out quite differently; but now that the misfortune has +happened, one must be brave enough not to lose one's head, and not to +let such a thing happen again, so that it should be the first and last +time! But what exactly you should do, I cannot tell you, because I don't +know! Only if you should want my help or any money, I will give you +either with the greatest pleasure."</p> + +<p>They understood each other——</p> + +<p>The women parted with Chavveh in great gladness, and turned towards home +conscious of a definite purpose. Now they all felt they knew just what +to do, and were sure it would prevent all further misfortune and +disgrace.</p> + +<p>They could have sung out for joy, embraced the hill, the stream, the +peasant huts, and kissed and fondled them all together. Mind you, they +had even now no definite plan of action, it was just Chavvehle's +sympathy<a name="page_474" id="page_474"></a> that had made all the difference—feeling that Chavveh was +with them! Wrapped in the evening mist, they stepped vigorously and +cheerily homewards.</p> + +<p>Gradually the speed and the noise of their march increased, the air +throbbed, and at last a high, sharp voice rose above the rest, whereupon +they grew stiller, and the women listened.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, we won't beat them. Only on Sabbath we must all come +together like one man, break into the house-of-study just before they +call up to the Reading of the Law, and not let them read till they have +sworn to agree to our sentence of excommunication!</p> + +<p>"She is right!"</p> + +<p>"Excommunicate him!"</p> + +<p>"Tear him in pieces!"</p> + +<p>"Let him be dressed in robe and prayer-scarf, and swear by the eight +black candles that he——"</p> + +<p>"Swear! Swear!"</p> + +<p>The noise was dreadful. No one was allowed to finish speaking. They were +all aflame with one fire of revenge, hate, and anger, and all alike +athirst for justice. Every new idea, every new suggestion was hastily +and hotly seized upon by all together, and there was a grinding of teeth +and a clenching of fists. Nature herself seemed affected by the tumult, +the clouds flew faster, the stars changed their places, the wind +whistled, the trees swayed hither and thither, the frogs croaked, there +was a great boiling up of the whole concern.</p> + +<p>"Women, women," cried one, "I propose that we go to the court of the +Shool, climb into the round millstones,<a name="page_475" id="page_475"></a> and all shout together, so that +they may know what we have decided."</p> + +<p>"Right! Right! To the Shool!" cried a chorus of voices.</p> + +<p>A common feeling of triumph running through them, they took each other +friendly-wise by the hand, and made gaily for the court of the Shool. +When they got into the town, they fell on each other's necks, and kissed +each other with tears and joy. They knew their plan was the best and +most excellent that could be devised, and would protect them all from +further shame and trouble.</p> + +<p>The Pidvorkes shuddered to hear their tread.</p> + +<p>All the remaining inhabitants, big and little, men and women, gathered +in the court of the Shool, and stood with pale faces and beating hearts +to see what would happen.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the young bachelors rolled uneasily, the girls had their +faces on one another's shoulders, and sobbed.</p> + +<p>Breindel, agile as a cat, climbed on to the highest millstone, and +proclaimed in a voice of thunder:</p> + +<p>"Seeing that such and such a thing has happened, a great scandal such as +is not to be hid, and such as we do not wish to hide, all we women have +decided to excommunicate——"</p> + +<p>Such a tumult arose that for a minute or two Breindel could not be +heard, but it was not long before everyone knew who and what was meant.</p> + +<p>"We also demand that neither he nor his nearest friends shall be called +to the Reading of the Law;<a name="page_476" id="page_476"></a> that people shall have nothing to do with +them till after the wedding!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to do with them! Nothing to do with them!" shook the air.</p> + +<p>"That people shall not lend to them nor borrow of them, shall not come +within their four ells!" continued the voice from the millstone.</p> + +<p>"And <i>she</i> shall be shut up till her time comes, so that no one shall +see her. Then we will take her to the burial-ground, and the child shall +be born in the burial-ground. The wedding shall take place by day, and +without musicians—"</p> + +<p>"Without musicians!"</p> + +<p>"Without musicians!"</p> + +<p>'Without musicians!"</p> + +<p>"Serve her right!"</p> + +<p>"She deserves worse!"</p> + +<p>A hundred voices were continually interrupting the speaker, and more +women were climbing onto the millstones, and shouting the same things.</p> + +<p>"On the wedding-day there will be great black candles burning throughout +the whole town, and when the bride is seated at the top of the +marriage-hall, with her hair flowing loose about her, all the girls +shall surround her, and the Badchen shall tell her, 'This is the way we +treat one who has not held to her Jewishness, and has blackened all our +faces——'"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"So it is!"</p> + +<p>"The apostates!"<a name="page_477" id="page_477"></a></p> + +<p>The last words struck the hearers' hearts like poisoned arrows. A +deathly pallor, born of unrealized terror at the suggested idea, +overspread all their faces, their feelings were in a tumult of shame and +suffering. They thirsted and longed after their former life, the time +before the calamity disturbed their peace. Weary and wounded in spirit, +with startled looks, throbbing pulses, and dilated pupils, and with no +more than a faint hope that all might yet be well, they slowly broke the +stillness, and departed to their homes.</p> + +<p><a name="page_478" id="page_478"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_479" id="page_479"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="LOB_SCHAPIRO" id="LOB_SCHAPIRO"></a>LÖB SCHAPIRO</h3> + +<p>Born, about 1880, in the Government of Kieff, Little Russia; came to +Chicago in 1906, and to New York for a short time in 1907-1908; now +(1912) in business in Switzerland; contributor to Die Zukunft, New York; +collected works, Novellen, 1 vol., Warsaw, 1910.</p> + +<p><a name="page_480" id="page_480"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_481" id="page_481"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="IF_IT_WAS_A_DREAM" id="IF_IT_WAS_A_DREAM"></a>IF IT WAS A DREAM</h3> + +<p>Yes, it was a terrible dream! But when one is only nine years old, one +soon forgets, and Meyerl was nine a few weeks before it came to pass.</p> + +<p>Yes, and things had happened in the house every now and then to remind +one of it, but then Meyerl lived more out of doors than indoors, in the +wild streets of New York. Tartilov and New York—what a difference! New +York had supplanted Tartilov, effaced it from his memory. There remained +only a faint occasional recollection of that horrid dream.</p> + +<p>If it really <i>was</i> a dream!</p> + +<p>It was this way: Meyerl dreamt that he was sitting in Cheder learning, +but more for show's sake than seriously, because during the Days of +Penitence, near the close of the session, the Rebbe grew milder, and +Cheder less hateful. And as he sat there and learnt, he heard a banging +of doors in the street, and through the window saw Jews running to and +fro, as if bereft of their senses, flinging themselves hither and +thither exactly like leaves in a gale, or as when a witch rises from the +ground in a column of dust, and whirls across the road so suddenly and +unexpectedly that it makes one's flesh creep. And at the sight of this +running up and down in the street, the Rebbe collapsed in his chair +white as death, his under lip trembling.</p> + +<p>Meyerl never saw him again. He was told later that the Rebbe had been +killed, but somehow the news<a name="page_482" id="page_482"></a> gave him no pleasure, although the Rebbe +used to beat him; neither did it particularly grieve him. It probably +made no great impression on his mind. After all, what did it mean, +exactly? Killed? and the question slipped out of his head unanswered, +together with the Rebbe, who was gradually forgotten.</p> + +<p>And then the real horror began. They were two days hiding away in the +bath-house—he and some other little boys and a few older +people—without food, without drink, without Father and Mother. Meyerl +was not allowed to get out and go home, and once, when he screamed, they +nearly suffocated him, after which he sobbed and whimpered, unable to +stop crying all at once. Now and then he fell asleep, and when he woke +everything was just the same, and all through the terror and the misery +he seemed to hear only one word, Goyim, which came to have a very +definite and terrible meaning for him. Otherwise everything was in a +maze, and as far as seeing goes, he really saw nothing at all.</p> + +<p>Later, when they came out again, nobody troubled about him, or came to +see after him, and a stranger took him home. And neither his father nor +his mother had a word to say to him, any more than if he had just come +home from Cheder as on any other day.</p> + +<p>Everything in the house was broken, they had twisted his father's arm +and bruised his face. His mother lay on the bed, her fair hair tossed +about, and her eyes half-closed, her face pale and stained, and +something about her whole appearance so rumpled and sluttish—it +reminded one of a tumbled bedquilt. His father walked up and down the +room in silence, looking at no<a name="page_483" id="page_483"></a> one, his bound arm in a white sling, and +when Meyerl, conscious of some invisible calamity, burst out crying, his +father only gave him a gloomy, irritated look, and continued to span the +room as before.</p> + +<p>In about three weeks' time they sailed for America. The sea was very +rough during the passage, and his mother lay the whole time in her +berth, and was very sick. Meyerl was quite fit, and his father did +nothing but pace the deck, even when it poured with rain, till they came +and ordered him down-stairs.</p> + +<p>Meyerl never knew exactly what happened, but once a Gentile on board the +ship passed a remark on his father, made fun of him, or something—and +his father drew himself up, and gave the other a look—nothing more than +a look! And the Gentile got such a fright that he began crossing +himself, and he spit out, and his lips moved rapidly. To tell the truth, +Meyerl was frightened himself by the contraction of his father's mouth, +the grind of his teeth, and by his eyes, which nearly started from his +head. Meyerl had never seen him look like that before, but soon his +father was once more pacing the deck, his head down, his wet collar +turned up, his hands in his sleeves, and his back slightly bent.</p> + +<p>When they arrived in New York City, Meyerl began to feel giddy, and it +was not long before the whole of Tartilov appeared to him like a dream.</p> + +<p>It was in the beginning of winter, and soon the snow fell, the fresh +white snow, and it was something like! Meyerl was now a "boy," he went +to "school," made snowballs, slid on the slides, built little fires in +the<a name="page_484" id="page_484"></a> middle of the street, and nobody interfered. He went home to eat +and sleep, and spent what you may call his "life" in the street.</p> + +<p>In their room were cold, piercing draughts, which made it feel dreary +and dismal. Meyerl's father, a lean, large-boned man, with a dark, brown +face and black beard, had always been silent, and it was but seldom he +said so much as "Are you there, Tzippe? Do you hear me, Tzippe?" But now +his silence was frightening! The mother, on the other hand, used to be +full of life and spirits, skipping about the place, and it was +"Shloimeh!" here, and "Shloimeh!" there, and her tongue wagging merrily! +And suddenly there was an end of it all. The father only walked back and +forth over the room, and she turned to look after him like a child in +disgrace, and looked and looked as though forever wanting to say +something, and never daring to say it. There was something new in her +look, something dog-like! Yes, on my word, something like what there was +in the eyes of Mishke the dog with which Meyerl used to like playing +"over there," in that little town in dreamland. Sometimes Meyerl, waking +suddenly in the night, heard, or imagined he heard, his mother sobbing, +while his father lay in the other bed puffing at his cigar, but so hard, +it was frightening, because it made a little fire every time in the +dark, as though of itself, in the air, just over the place where his +father's black head must be lying. Then Meyerl's eyes would shut of +themselves, his brain was confused, and his mother and the glowing +sparks and the whole room sank away from him, and Meyerl dropped off to +sleep.<a name="page_485" id="page_485"></a></p> + +<p>Twice that winter his mother fell ill. The first time it lasted two +days, the second, four, and both times the illness was dangerous. Her +face glowed like an oven, her lower lip bled beneath her sharp white +teeth, and yet wild, terrifying groans betrayed what she was suffering, +and she was often violently sick, just as when they were on the sea.</p> + +<p>At those times she looked at her husband with eyes in which there was no +prayer. Mishke once ran a thorn deep into his paw, and he squealed and +growled angrily, and sucked his paw, as though he were trying to swallow +it, thorn and all, and the look in his eyes was the look of Meyerl's +mother in her pain.</p> + +<p>In those days his father, too, behaved differently, for, instead of +walking to and fro across the room, he ran, puffing incessantly at his +cigar, his brow like a thunder-cloud and occasional lightnings flashing +from his eyes. He never looked at his wife, and neither of them looked +at Meyerl, who then felt himself utterly wretched and forsaken.</p> + +<p>And—it is very odd, but—it was just on these occasions that Meyerl +felt himself drawn to his home. In the street things were as usual, but +at home it was like being in Shool during the Solemn Days at the blowing +of the ram's horn, when so many tall "fathers" stand with prayer-scarfs +over their heads, and hold their breath, and when out of the distance +there comes, unfolding over the heads of the people, the long, loud +blast of the Shofar.</p> + +<p>And both times, when his mother recovered, the shadow that lay on their +home had darkened, his father<a name="page_486" id="page_486"></a> was gloomier than ever, and his mother, +when she looked at him, had a still more crushed and dog-like +expression, as though she were lying outside in the dust of the street.</p> + +<p>The snowfalls became rarer, then they ceased altogether, and there came +into the air a feeling of something new—what exactly, it would have +been hard for Meyerl to say. Anyhow it was something good, very good, +for everyone in the street was glad of it, one could see that by their +faces, which were more lightsome and gay.</p> + +<p>On the Eve of Passover the sky of home cleared a little too, street and +house joined hands through the windows, opened now for the first time +since winter set in, and this neighborly act of theirs cheered Meyerl's +heart.</p> + +<p>His parents made preparations for Passover, and poor little preparations +they were: there was no Matzes-baking with its merry to-do; a packet of +cold, stale Matzes was brought into the house; there was no pail of +beet-root soup in the corner, covered with a coarse cloth of unbleached +linen; no dusty china service was fetched from the attic, where it had +lain many years between one Passover and another; his father brought in +a dinner service from the street, one he had bought cheap, and of which +the pieces did not match. But the exhilaration of the festival made +itself felt for all that, and warmed their hearts. At home, in Tartilov, +it had happened once or twice that Meyerl had lain in his little bed +with open eyes, staring stock-still, with terror, into the silent +blackness of the night, and feeling as if<a name="page_487" id="page_487"></a> he were the only living soul +in the whole world, that is, the whole house; and the sudden crow of a +cock would be enough on these occasions to send a warm current of relief +and security through his heart.</p> + +<p>His father's face looked a little more cheerful. In the daytime, while +he dusted the cups, his eyes had something pensive in them, but his lips +were set so that you thought: There, now, now they are going to smile! +The mother danced the Matzeh pancakes up and down in the kitchen, so +that they chattered and gurgled in the frying-pan. When a neighbor came +in to borrow a cooking pot, Meyerl happened to be standing beside his +mother. The neighbor got her pot, the women exchanged a few words about +the coming holiday, and then the neighbor said, "So we shall soon be +having a rejoicing at your house?" and with a wink and a smile she +pointed at his mother with her finger, whereupon Meyerl remarked for the +first time that her figure had grown round and full. But he had no time +just then to think it over, for there came a sound of broken china from +the next room, his mother stood like one knocked on the head, and his +father appeared in the door, and said:</p> + +<p>"Go!"</p> + +<p>His voice sent a quiver through the window-panes, as if a heavy wagon +were just crossing the bridge outside at a trot, the startled neighbor +turned, and whisked out of the house.</p> + +<p>Meyerl's parents looked ill at ease in their holiday garb, with the +faces of mourners. The whole ceremony of the Passover home service was +spoilt by an atmosphere of the last meal on the Eve of the Fast of the<a name="page_488" id="page_488"></a> +Destruction of the Temple. And when Meyerl, with the indifferent voice +of one hired for the occasion, sang out the "Why is this night +different?" his heart shrank together; there was the same hush round +about him as there is in Shool when an orphan recites the first +"Sanctification" for his dead parents.</p> + +<p>His mother's lips moved, but gave forth no sound; from time to time she +wetted a finger with her tongue, and turned over leaf after leaf in her +service-book, and from time to time a large, bright tear fell, over her +beautiful but depressed face onto the book, or the white table-cloth, or +her dress. His father never looked at her. Did he see she was crying? +Meyerl wondered. Then, how strangely he was reciting the Haggadah! He +would chant a portion in long-drawn-out fashion, and suddenly his voice +would break, sometimes with a gurgle, as though a hand had seized him by +the throat and closed it. Then he would look silently at his book, or +his eye would wander round the room with a vacant stare. Then he would +start intoning again, and again his voice would break.</p> + +<p>They ate next to nothing, said grace to themselves in a whisper, after +which the father said:</p> + +<p>"Meyerl, open the door!"</p> + +<p>Not without fear, and the usual uncertainty as to the appearance of the +Prophet Elijah, whose goblet stood filled for him on the table, Meyerl +opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Pour out Thy wrath upon the Gentiles, who do not know Thee!"</p> + +<p>A slight shudder ran down between Meyerl's shoulders, for a strange, +quite unfamiliar voice had sounded<a name="page_489" id="page_489"></a> through the room from one end to the +other, shot up against the ceiling, flung itself down again, and gone +flapping round the four walls, like a great, wild bird in a cage. Meyerl +hastily turned to look at his father, and felt the hair bristle on his +head with fright: straight and stiff as a screwed-up fiddle-string, +there stood beside the table a wild figure, in a snow-white robe, with a +dark beard, a broad, bony face, and a weird, black flame in the eyes. +The teeth were ground together, and the voice would go over into a +plaintive roar, like that of a hungry, bloodthirsty animal. His mother +sprang up from her seat, trembling in every limb, stared at him for a +few seconds, and then threw herself at his feet. Catching hold of the +edge of his robe with both hands, she broke into lamentation:</p> + +<p>"Shloimeh, Shloimeh, you'd better kill me! Shloimeh! kill me! oi, oi, +misfortune!"</p> + +<p>Meyerl felt as though a large hand with long fingernails had introduced +itself into his inside, and turned it upside down with one fell twist. +His mouth opened widely and crookedly, and a scream of childish terror +burst from his throat. Tartilov had suddenly leapt wildly into view, +affrighted Jews flew up and down the street like leaves in a storm, the +white-faced Rebbe sat in his chair, his under lip trembling, his mother +lay on her bed, looking all pulled about like a rumpled counterpane. +Meyerl saw all this as clearly and sharply as though he had it before +his eyes, he felt and knew that it was not all over, that it was only +just beginning, that the calamity, the great calamity, the real +calamity, was still to come, and might at any moment<a name="page_490" id="page_490"></a> descend upon their +heads like a thunderbolt, only <i>what</i> it was he did not know, or ask +himself, and a second time a scream of distraught and helpless terror +escaped his throat.</p> + +<p>A few neighbors, Italians, who were standing in the passage by the open +door, looked on in alarm, and whispered among themselves, and still the +wild curses filled the room, one minute loud and resonant, the next with +the spiteful gasping of a man struck to death.</p> + +<p>"Mighty God! Pour out Thy wrath on the peoples who have no God in their +hearts! Pour out Thy wrath upon the lands where Thy Name is unknown! 'He +has devoured, devoured my body, he has laid waste, laid waste my +house!'"</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"Thy wrath shall pursue them,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Pursue them—o'ertake them!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> O'ertake them—destroy them,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> From under Thy heavens!"</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3><a name="SHALOM_ASCH" id="SHALOM_ASCH"></a>SHALOM ASCH</h3> + +<p>Born, 1881, in Kutno, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland; Jewish +education and Hasidic surroundings; began to write in 1900, earliest +works being in Hebrew; Sippurim was published in 1903, and A Städtel in +1904; wrote his first drama in 1905; distinguished for realism, love of +nature, and description of patriarchal Jewish life in the villages; +playwright; dramas: Gott von Nekomoh, Meschiach's Zeiten, etc.; +collected works, Schriften, Warsaw, 1908-1912 (in course of +publication).</p> + +<p><a name="page_492" id="page_492"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_493" id="page_493"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_SIMPLE_STORY" id="A_SIMPLE_STORY"></a>A SIMPLE STORY</h3> + +<p>Feigele, like all young girls, is fond of dressing and decking herself +out.</p> + +<p>She has no time for these frivolities during the week, there is work in +plenty, no evil eye! and sewing to do; rent is high, and times are bad. +The father earns but little, and there is a deal wanting towards her +three hundred rubles dowry, beside which her mother trenches on it +occasionally, on Sabbath, when the family purse is empty.</p> + +<p>"There are as many marriageable young men as dogs, only every dog wants +a fat bone," comes into her head.</p> + +<p>She dislikes much thinking. She is a young girl and a pretty one. Of +course, one shouldn't be conceited, but when she stands in front of the +glass, she sees her bright face and rosy cheeks and the fall of her +black hair. But she soon forgets it all, as though she were afraid that +to rejoice in it might bring her ill-luck.</p> + +<p>Sabbath it is quite another thing—there is time and to spare, and on +Sabbath Feigele's toilet knows no end.</p> + +<p>The mother calls, "There, Feigele, that's enough! You will do very well +as you are." But what should old-fashioned women like her know about it? +Anything will do for them. Whether you've a hat and jacket on or not, +they're just as pleased.</p> + +<p>But a young girl like Feigele knows the difference. <i>He</i> is sitting out +there on the bench, he, Eleazar, with<a name="page_494" id="page_494"></a> a party of his mates, casting +furtive glances, which he thinks nobody sees, and nudging his neighbor, +"Look, fire and flame!" and she, Feigele, behaves as though unaware of +his presence, walks straight past, as coolly and unconcernedly as you +please, and as though Eleazar might look and look his eyes out after +her, take his own life, hang himself, for all <i>she</i> cares.</p> + +<p>But, O Feigele, the vexation and the heartache when one fine day you +walk past, and he doesn't look at <i>you</i>, but at Malkeh, who has a new +hat and jacket that suit her about as well as a veil suits a dog—and +yet he looks at her, and you turn round again, and yet again, pretending +to look at something else (because it isn't proper), but you just glance +over your shoulder, and he is still looking after Malkeh, his whole face +shining with delight, and he nudges his mate, as to say, "Do you see?" O +Feigele, you need a heart of adamant, if it is not to burst in twain +with mortification!</p> + +<p>However, no sooner has Malkeh disappeared down a sidewalk, than he gets +up from the bench, dragging his mate along with him, and they follow, +arm-in-arm, follow Feigele like her shadow, to the end of the avenue, +where, catching her eye, he nods a "Good Sabbath!" Feigele answers with +a supercilious tip-tilt of her head, as much as to say, "It is all the +same to me, I'm sure; I'll just go down this other avenue for a change," +and, lo and behold, if she happens to look around, there is Eleazar, +too, and he follows, follows like a wearisome creditor.<a name="page_495" id="page_495"></a></p> + +<p>And then, O Feigele, such a lovely, blissful feeling comes over you. +Don't look, take no notice of him, walk ahead stiffly and firmly, with +your head high, let him follow and look at you. And he looks, and he +follows, he would follow you to the world's end, into the howling +desert. Ha, ha, how lovely it feels!</p> + +<p>But once, on a Sabbath evening, walking in the gardens with a girl +friend, and he following, Feigele turned aside down a dark path, and sat +down on a bench behind a bushy tree.</p> + +<p>He came and sat down, too, at the other end of the bench.</p> + +<p>Evening: the many branching trees overshadow and obscure, it grows dark, +they are screened and hidden from view.</p> + +<p>A breeze blows, lightly and pleasantly, and cools the air.</p> + +<p>They feel it good to be there, their hearts beat in the stillness.</p> + +<p>Who will say the first word?</p> + +<p>He coughs, ahem! to show that he is there, but she makes no sign, +implying that she neither knows who he is, nor what he wants, and has no +wish to learn.</p> + +<p>They are silent, they only hear their own beating hearts and the wind in +the leaves.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, do you know what time it is?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," she replies stiffly, meaning, "I know quite well what you +are after, but don't be in such a hurry, you won't get anything the +sooner."</p> + +<p>The girl beside her gives her a nudge. "Did you hear that?" she +giggles.<a name="page_496" id="page_496"></a></p> + +<p>Feigele feels a little annoyed with her. Does the girl think <i>she</i> is +the object? And she presently prepares to rise, but remains, as though +glued to the seat.</p> + +<p>"A beautiful night, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a beautiful evening."</p> + +<p>And so the conversation gets into swing, with a question from him and an +answer from her, on different subjects, first with fear and fluttering +of the heart, then they get closer one to another, and become more +confidential. When she goes home, he sees her to the door, they shake +hands and say, "Till we meet again!"</p> + +<p>And they meet a second and a third time, for young hearts attract each +other like a magnet. At first, of course, it is accidental, they meet by +chance in the company of two other people, a girl friend of hers and a +chum of his, and then, little by little, they come to feel that they +want to see each other alone, all to themselves, and they fix upon a +quiet time and place.</p> + +<p>And they met.</p> + +<p>They walked away together, outside the town, between the sky and the +fields, walked and talked, and again, conscious that the talk was an +artificial one, were even more gladly silent. Evening, and the last +sunbeams were gliding over the ears of corn on both sides of the way. +Then a breeze came along, and the ears swayed and whispered together, as +the two passed on between them down the long road. Night was gathering, +it grew continually darker, more melancholy, more delightful.</p> + +<p>"I have been wanting to know you for a long time, Feigele."</p> + +<p>"I know. You followed me like a shadow."<a name="page_497" id="page_497"></a></p> + +<p>They are silent.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about, Feigele?"</p> + +<p>"What are <i>you</i> thinking about, Eleazar?"</p> + +<p>And they plunge once more into a deep converse about all sorts of +things, and there seems to be no reason why it should ever end.</p> + +<p>It grows darker and darker.</p> + +<p>They have come to walk closer together.</p> + +<p>Now he takes her hand, she gives a start, but his hand steals further +and further into hers.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as dropt from the sky, he bends his face, and kisses her on +the cheek.</p> + +<p>A thrill goes through her, she takes her hand out of his and appears +rather cross, but he knows it is put on, and very soon she is all right +again, as if the incident were forgotten.</p> + +<p>An hour or two go by thus, and every day now they steal away and meet +outside the town.</p> + +<p>And Eleazar began to frequent her parents' house, the first time with an +excuse—he had some work for Feigele. And then, as people do, he came to +know when the work would be done, and Feigele behaved as though she had +never seen him before, as though not even knowing who he was, and +politely begged him to take a seat.</p> + +<p>So it came about by degrees that Eleazar was continually in and out of +the house, coming and going as he pleased and without stating any +pretext whatever.</p> + +<p>Feigele's parents knew him for a steady young man, he was a skilled +artisan earning a good wage, and they knew quite well why a young man +comes to the home<a name="page_498" id="page_498"></a> of a young girl, but they feigned ignorance, thinking +to themselves, "Let the children get to know each other better, there +will be time enough to talk it over afterwards."</p> + +<p>Evening: a small room, shadows moving on the walls, a new table on which +burns a large, bright lamp, and sitting beside it Feigele sewing and +Eleazar reading aloud a novel by Shomer.</p> + +<p>Father and mother, tired out with a whole day's work, sleep on their +beds behind the curtain, which shuts off half the room.</p> + +<p>And so they sit, both of them, only sometimes Eleazar laughs aloud, +takes her by the hand, and exclaims with a smile, "Feigele!"</p> + +<p>"What do you want, silly?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all, nothing at all."</p> + +<p>And she sews on, thinking, "I have got you fast enough, but don't +imagine you are taking somebody from the street, just as she is; there +are still eighty rubles wanting to make three hundred in the bank."</p> + +<p>And she shows him her wedding outfit, the shifts and the bedclothes, of +which half lie waiting in the drawers.</p> + +<p class="top5">They drew closer one to another, they became more and more intimate, so +that all looked upon them as engaged, and expected the marriage contract +to be drawn up any day. Feigele's mother was jubilant at her daughter's +good fortune, at the prospect of such a son-in-law, such a golden +son-in-law!</p> + +<p>Reb Yainkel, her father, was an elderly man, a worn-out peddler, bent +sideways with the bag of junk continually on his shoulder.<a name="page_499" id="page_499"></a></p> + +<p>Now he, too, has a little bit of pleasure, a taste of joy, for which God +be praised!</p> + +<p>Everyone rejoices, Feigele most of all, her cheeks look rosier and +fresher, her eyes darker and brighter.</p> + +<p>She sits at her machine and sews, and the whole room rings with her +voice:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry"> +<tr><td align="left">"Un was ich hob' gewollt, hob' ich ausgeführt,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Soll ich azoi leben!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Ich hob' gewollt a shenem Choson,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Hot' mir Gott gegeben."</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>In the evening comes Eleazar.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"What should I be doing? Wait, I'll show you something."</p> + +<p>"What sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>She rises from her place, goes to the chest that stands in the stove +corner, takes something out of it, and hides it under her apron.</p> + +<p>"Whatever have you got there?" he laughs.</p> + +<p>"Why are you in such a hurry to know?" she asks, and sits down beside +him, brings from under her apron a picture in fine woolwork, Adam and +Eve, and shows it him, saying:</p> + +<p>"There, now you see! It was worked by a girl I know—for me, for us. I +shall hang it up in our room, opposite the bed."</p> + +<p>"Yours or mine?"</p> + +<p>"You wait, Eleazar! You will see the house I shall arrange for you—a +paradise, I tell you, just a little paradise! Everything in it will have +to shine, so that it will be a pleasure to step inside."<a name="page_500" id="page_500"></a></p> + +<p>"And every evening when work is done, we two shall sit together, side by +side, just as we are doing now," and he puts an arm around her.</p> + +<p>"And you will tell me everything, all about everything," she says, +laying a hand on his shoulder, while with the other she takes hold of +his chin, and looks into his eyes.</p> + +<p>They feel so happy, so light at heart.</p> + +<p>Everything in the house has taken on an air of kindliness, there is a +soft, attractive gloss on every object in the room, on the walls and the +table, the familiar things make signs to her, and speak to her as friend +to friend.</p> + +<p>The two are silent, lost in their own thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Look," she says to him, and takes her bank-book out of the chest, "two +hundred and forty rubles already. I shall make it up to three hundred, +and then you won't have to say, 'I took you just as you were.'"</p> + +<p>"Go along with you, you are very unjust, and I'm cross with you, +Feigele."</p> + +<p>"Why? Because I tell you the truth to your face?" she asks, looking into +his face and laughing.</p> + +<p>He turns his head away, pretending to be offended.</p> + +<p>"You little silly, are you feeling hurt? I was only joking, can't you +see?"</p> + +<p>So it goes on, till the old mother's face peeps out from behind the +curtain, warning them that it is time to go to rest, when the young +couple bid each other good-night.</p> + +<p class="top5">Reb Yainkel, Feigele's father, fell ill.</p> + +<p>It was in the beginning of winter, and there was war between winter and +summer: the former sent a<a name="page_501" id="page_501"></a> snowfall, the latter a burst of sun. The snow +turned to mud, and between times it poured with rain by the bucketful.</p> + +<p>This sort of weather made the old man ill: he became weak in the legs, +and took to his bed.</p> + +<p>There was no money for food, and still less for firing, and Feigele had +to lend for the time being.</p> + +<p>The old man lay abed and coughed, his pale, shrivelled face reddened, +the teeth showed between the drawn lips, and the blue veins stood out on +his temples.</p> + +<p>They sent for the doctor, who prescribed a remedy.</p> + +<p>The mother wished to pawn their last pillow, but Feigele protested, and +gave up part of her wages, and when this was not enough, she pawned her +jacket—anything sooner than touch the dowry.</p> + +<p>And he, Eleazar, came every evening, and they sat together beside the +well-known table in the lamplight.</p> + +<p>"Why are you so sad, Feigele?"</p> + +<p>"How can you expect me to be cheerful, with father so ill?"</p> + +<p>"God will help, Feigele, and he will get better."</p> + +<p>"It's four weeks since I put a farthing into the savings-bank."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to save for?"</p> + +<p>"What do I want to save for?" she asked with a startled look, as though +something had frightened her. "Are you going to tell me that you will +take me without a dowry?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'without a dowry'? You are worth all the money in +the world to me, worth my whole life. What do I want with your money? +See here, my<a name="page_502" id="page_502"></a> five fingers, they can earn all we need. I have two +hundred rubles in the bank, saved from my earnings. What do I want with +more?"</p> + +<p>They are silent for a moment, with downcast eyes. "And your mother?" she +asks quietly.</p> + +<p>"Will you please tell me, are you marrying my mother or me? And what +concern is she of yours?"</p> + +<p>Feigele is silent.</p> + +<p>"I tell you again, I'll take you <i>just as you are</i>—and you'll take me +the same, will you?"</p> + +<p>She puts the corner of her apron to her eyes, and cries quietly to +herself.</p> + +<p>There is stillness around. The lamp sheds its brightness over the little +room, and casts their shadows onto the walls.</p> + +<p>The heavy sleeping of the old people is audible behind the curtain.</p> + +<p>And her head lies on his shoulder, and her thick black hair hides his +face.</p> + +<p>"How kind you are, Eleazar," she whispers through her tears.</p> + +<p>And she opens her whole heart to him, tells him how it is with them now, +how bad things are, they have pawned everything, and there is nothing +left for to-morrow, nothing but the dowry!</p> + +<p>He clasps her lovingly, and dries her cheeks with her apron end, saying: +"Don't cry, Feigele, don't cry. It will all come right. And to-morrow, +mind, you are to go to the postoffice, and take a little of the dowry, +as much as you need, until your father, God helping, is well again, and +able to earn something, and then...."<a name="page_503" id="page_503"></a></p> + +<p>"And then ..." she echoes in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"And then it will all come right," and his eyes flash into hers. "Just +as you are ..." he whispers.</p> + +<p>And she looks at him, and a smile crosses her face.</p> + +<p>She feels so happy, so happy.</p> + +<p class="top5">Next morning she went to the postoffice for the first time with her +bank-book, took out a few rubles, and gave them to her mother.</p> + +<p>The mother sighed heavily, and took on a grieved expression; she +frowned, and pulled her head-kerchief down over her eyes.</p> + +<p>Old Reb Yainkel lying in bed turned his face to the wall.</p> + +<p>The old man knew where the money came from, he knew how his only child +had toiled for those few rubles. Other fathers gave money to their +children, and he took it—</p> + +<p>It seemed to him as though he were plundering the two young people. He +had not long to live, and he was robbing them before he died.</p> + +<p>As he thought on this, his eyes glazed, the veins on his temple swelled, +and his face became suffused with blood.</p> + +<p>His head is buried in the pillow, and turns to the wall, he lies and +thinks these thoughts.</p> + +<p>He knows that he is in the way of the children's happiness, and he prays +that he may die.</p> + +<p>And she, Feigele, would like to come into a fortune all at once, to have +a lot of money, to be as rich as any great lady.<a name="page_504" id="page_504"></a></p> + +<p>And then suppose she had a thousand rubles now, this minute, and he came +in: "There, take the whole of it, see if I love you! There, take it, and +then you needn't say you love me for nothing, just as I am."</p> + +<p>They sit beside the father's bed, she and her Eleazar.</p> + +<p>Her heart overflows with content, she feels happier than she ever felt +before, there are even tears of joy on her cheeks.</p> + +<p>She sits and cries, hiding her face with her apron.</p> + +<p>He takes her caressingly by the hands, repeating in his kind, sweet +voice, "Feigele, stop crying, Feigele, please!"</p> + +<p>The father lies turned with his face to the wall, and the beating of his +heart is heard in the stillness.</p> + +<p>They sit, and she feels confidence in Eleazar, she feels that she can +rely upon him.</p> + +<p>She sits and drinks in his words, she feels him rolling the heavy stones +from off her heart.</p> + +<p>The old father has turned round and looked at them, and a sweet smile +steals over his face, as though he would say, "Have no fear, children, I +agree with you, I agree with all my heart."</p> + +<p>And Feigele feels so happy, so happy....</p> + +<p class="top5">The father is still lying ill, and Feigele takes out one ruble after +another, one five-ruble-piece after another.</p> + +<p>The old man lies and prays and muses, and looks at the children, and +holds his peace.</p> + +<p>His face gets paler and more wrinkled, he grows weaker, he feels his +strength ebbing away.<a name="page_505" id="page_505"></a></p> + +<p>Feigele goes on taking money out of the savings-bank, the stamps in her +book grow less and less, she knows that soon there will be nothing left.</p> + +<p>Old Reb Yainkel wishes in secret that he did not require so much, that +he might cease to hamper other people!</p> + +<p>He spits blood-drops, and his strength goes on diminishing, and so do +the stamps in Feigele's book. The day he died saw the last farthing of +Feigele's dowry disappear after the others.</p> + +<p class="top5">Feigele has resumed her seat by the bright lamp, and sews and sews till +far into the night, and with every seam that she sews, something is +added to the credit of her new account.</p> + +<p>This time the dowry must be a larger one, because for every stamp that +is added to the account-book there is a new grey hair on Feigele's black +head.<a name="page_506" id="page_506"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_JEWISH_CHILD" id="A_JEWISH_CHILD"></a>A JEWISH CHILD</h3> + +<p>The mother came out of the bride's chamber, and cast a piercing look at +her husband, who was sitting beside a finished meal, and was making +pellets of bread crumbs previous to saying grace.</p> + +<p>"You go and talk to her! I haven't a bit of strength left!"</p> + +<p>"So, Rochel-Leoh has brought up children, has she, and can't manage +them! Why! People will be pointing at you and laughing—a ruin to your +years!"</p> + +<p>"To my years?! A ruin to <i>yours</i>! <i>My</i> children, are they? Are they not +yours, too? Couldn't you stay at home sometimes to care for them and +help me to bring them up, instead of trapesing round—the black year +knows where and with whom?"</p> + +<p>"Rochel, Rochel, what has possessed you to start a quarrel with me now? +The bridegroom's family will be arriving directly."</p> + +<p>"And what do you expect me to do, Moishehle, eh?! For God's sake! Go in +to her, we shall be made a laughing-stock."</p> + +<p>The man rose from the table, and went into the next room to his +daughter. The mother followed.</p> + +<p>On the little sofa that stood by the window sat a girl about eighteen, +her face hidden in her hands, her arms covered by her loose, thick, +black hair. She was evidently crying, for her bosom rose and fell like a +stormy sea. On the bed opposite lay the white silk wedding-dress, the +Chuppeh-Kleid, with the black,<a name="page_507" id="page_507"></a> silk Shool-Kleid, and the black stuff +morning-dress, which the tailor who had undertaken the outfit had +brought not long ago. By the door stood a woman with a black scarf round +her head and holding boxes with wigs.</p> + +<p>"Channehle! You are never going to do me this dishonor? to make me the +talk of the town?" exclaimed the father. The bride was silent.</p> + +<p>"Look at me, daughter of Moisheh Groiss! It's all very well for Genendel +Freindel's daughter to wear a wig, but not for the daughter of Moisheh +Groiss? Is that it?"</p> + +<p>"And yet Genendel Freindel might very well think more of herself than +you: she is more educated than you are, and has a larger dowry," put in +the mother.</p> + +<p>The bride made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Daughter, think how much blood and treasure it has cost to help us to a +bit of pleasure, and now you want to spoil it for us? Remember, for +God's sake, what you are doing with yourself! We shall be +excommunicated, the young man will run away home on foot!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish," said the mother, took a wig out of a box from the +woman by the door, and approached her daughter. "Let us try on the wig, +the hair is just the color of yours," and she laid the strange hair on +the girl's head.</p> + +<p>The girl felt the weight, put up her fingers to her head, met among her +own soft, cool, living locks, the strange, dead hair of the wig, stiff +and cold, and it flashed through her, Who knows where the head to which +this hair belonged is now? A shuddering enveloped<a name="page_508" id="page_508"></a> her, and as though +she had come in contact with something unclean, she snatched off the +wig, threw in onto the floor and hastily left the room.</p> + +<p>Father and mother stood and looked at each other in dismay.</p> + +<p class="top5">The day after the marriage ceremony, the bridegroom's mother rose early, +and, bearing large scissors, and the wig and a hood which she had +brought from her home as a present for the bride, she went to dress the +latter for the "breakfast."</p> + +<p>But the groom's mother remained outside the room, because the bride had +locked herself in, and would open her door to no one.</p> + +<p>The groom's mother ran calling aloud for help to her husband, who, +together with a dozen uncles and brothers-in-law, was still sleeping +soundly after the evening's festivity. She then sought out the +bridegroom, an eighteen-year-old boy with his mother's milk still on his +lips, who, in a silk caftan and a fur cap, was moving about the room in +bewildered fashion, his eyes on the ground, ashamed to look anyone in +the face. In the end she fell back on the mother of the bride, and these +two went in to her together, having forced open the door between them.</p> + +<p>"Why did you lock yourself in, dear daughter. There is no need to be +ashamed."</p> + +<p>"Marriage is a Jewish institution!" said the groom's mother, and kissed +her future daughter-in-law on both cheeks.</p> + +<p>The girl made no reply.<a name="page_509" id="page_509"></a></p> + +<p>"Your mother-in-law has brought you a wig and a hood for the procession +to the Shool," said her own mother.</p> + +<p>The band had already struck up the "Good Morning" in the next room.</p> + +<p>"Come now, Kallehshi, Kalleh-leben, the guests are beginning to +assemble."</p> + +<p>The groom's mother took hold of the plaits in order to loosen them.</p> + +<p>The bride bent her head away from her, and fell on her own mother's +neck.</p> + +<p>"I can't, Mame-leben! My heart won't let me, Mame-kron!"</p> + +<p>She held her hair with both hands, to protect it from the other's +scissors.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, my daughter? my life," begged the mother.</p> + +<p>"In the other world you will be plunged for this into rivers of fire. +The apostate who wears her own hair after marriage will have her locks +torn out with red hot pincers," said the other with the scissors.</p> + +<p>A cold shiver went through the girl at these words.</p> + +<p>"Mother-life, mother-crown!" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>Her hands sought her hair, and the black silky tresses fell through them +in waves. Her hair, the hair which had grown with her growth, and lived +with her life, was to be cut off, and she was never, never to have it +again—she was to wear strange hair, hair that had grown on another +person's head, and no one knows whether that other person was alive or +lying in the earth this long<a name="page_510" id="page_510"></a> time, and whether she might not come any +night to one's bedside, and whine in a dead voice:</p> + +<p>"Give me back my hair, give me back my hair!"</p> + +<p>A frost seized the girl to the marrow, she shivered and shook.</p> + +<p>Then she heard the squeak of scissors over her head, tore herself out of +her mother's arms, made one snatch at the scissors, flung them across +the room, and said in a scarcely human voice:</p> + +<p>"My own hair! May God Himself punish me!"</p> + +<p>That day the bridegroom's mother took herself off home again, together +with the sweet-cakes and the geese which she had brought for the wedding +breakfast for her own guests. She wanted to take the bridegroom as well, +but the bride's mother said: "I will not give him back to you! He +belongs to me already!"</p> + +<p>The following Sabbath they led the bride in procession to the Shool +wearing her own hair in the face of all the town, covered only by a +large hood.</p> + +<p>But may all the names she was called by the way find their only echo in +some uninhabited wilderness.</p> + +<p class="top5">A summer evening, a few weeks after the wedding: The young man had just +returned from the Stübel, and went to his room. The wife was already +asleep, and the soft light of the lamp fell on her pale face, showing +here and there among the wealth of silky-black hair that bathed it. Her +slender arms were flung round her head, as though she feared that +someone might come by night to shear them off while she slept. He had +come home excited and irritable: this was the fourth week of his married +life, and they had not yet<a name="page_511" id="page_511"></a> called him up to the Reading of the Law, the +Chassidim pursued him, and to-day Chayyim Moisheh had blamed him in the +presence of the whole congregation, and had shamed him, because <i>she</i>, +his wife, went about in her own hair. "You're no better than a clay +image," Reb Chayyim Moisheh had told him. "What do you mean by a woman's +saying she won't? It is written: 'And he shall rule over thee.'"</p> + +<p>And he had come home intending to go to her and say: "Woman, it is a +precept in the Torah! If you persist in wearing your own hair, I may +divorce you without returning the dowry," after which he would pack up +his things and go home. But when he saw his little wife asleep in bed, +and her pale face peeping out of the glory of her hair, he felt a great +pity for her. He went up to the bed, and stood a long while looking at +her, after which he called softly:</p> + +<p>"Channehle ... Channehle ... Channehle...."</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes with a frightened start, and looked round in sleepy +wonder:</p> + +<p>"Nosson, did you call? What do you want?</p> + +<p>"Nothing, your cap has slipped off," he said, lifting up the white +nightcap, which had fallen from her head.</p> + +<p>She flung it on again, and wanted to turn towards the wall.</p> + +<p>"Channehle, Channehle, I want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>The words went to her heart. The whole time since their marriage he had, +so to say, not spoken to her. During the day she saw nothing of him, for +he spent it in the house-of-study or in the Stübel. When he came home to +dinner, he sat down to the table in silence. When he wanted anything, he +asked for it<a name="page_512" id="page_512"></a> speaking into the air, and when really obliged to exchange +a word with her, he did so with his eyes fixed on the ground, too shy to +look her in the face. And now he said he wanted to talk to her, and in +such a gentle voice, and they two alone together in their room!</p> + +<p>"What do you want to say to me?" she asked softly.</p> + +<p>"Channehle," he began, "please, don't make a fool of me, and don't make +a fool of yourself in people's eyes. Has not God decreed that we should +belong together? You are my wife and I am your husband, and is it +proper, and what does it look like, a married woman wearing her own +hair?"</p> + +<p>Sleep still half dimmed her eyes, and had altogether clouded her thought +and will. She felt helpless, and her head fell lightly towards his +breast.</p> + +<p>"Child," he went on still more gently, "I know you are not so depraved +as they say. I know you are a pious Jewish daughter, and His blessed +Name will help us, and we shall have pious Jewish children. Put away +this nonsense! Why should the whole world be talking about you? Are we +not man and wife? Is not your shame mine?"</p> + +<p>It seemed to her as though <i>someone</i>, at once very far away and very +near, had come and was talking to her. Nobody had ever yet spoken to her +so gently and confidingly. And he was her husband, with whom she would +live so long, so long, and there would be children, and she would look +after the house!</p> + +<p>She leant her head lightly against him.</p> + +<p>"I know you are very sorry to lose your hair, the ornament of your +girlhood, I saw you with it when I was a<a name="page_513" id="page_513"></a> guest in your home. I know +that God gave you grace and loveliness, I know. It cuts me to the heart +that your hair must be shorn off, but what is to be done? It is a rule, +a law of our religion, and after all we are Jews. We might even, God +forbid, have a child conceived to us in sin, may Heaven watch over and +defend us."</p> + +<p>She said nothing, but remained resting lightly in his arm, and his face +lay in the stream of her silky-black hair with its cool odor. In that +hair dwelt a soul, and he was conscious of it. He looked at her long and +earnestly, and in his look was a prayer, a pleading with her for her own +happiness, for her happiness and his.</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" ... he asked, more with his eyes than with his lips.</p> + +<p>She said nothing, she only bent her head over his lap.</p> + +<p>He went quickly to the drawer, and took out a pair of scissors.</p> + +<p>She laid her head in his lap, and gave her hair as a ransom for their +happiness, still half-asleep and dreaming. The scissors squeaked over +her head, shearing off one lock after the other, and Channehle lay and +dreamt through the night.</p> + +<p>On waking next morning, she threw a look into the glass which hung +opposite the bed. A shock went through her, she thought she had gone +mad, and was in the asylum! On the table beside her lay her shorn hair, +dead!</p> + +<p>She hid her face in her hands, and the little room was filled with the +sound of weeping!<a name="page_514" id="page_514"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_SCHOLARS_MOTHER" id="A_SCHOLARS_MOTHER"></a>A SCHOLAR'S MOTHER</h3> + +<p>The market lies foursquare, surrounded on every side by low, whitewashed +little houses. From the chimney of the one-storied house opposite the +well and inhabited by the baker, issues thick smoke, which spreads low +over the market-place. Beneath the smoke is a flying to and fro of white +pigeons, and a tall boy standing outside the baker's door is whistling +to them.</p> + +<p>Equally opposite the well are stalls, doors laid across two chairs and +covered with fruit and vegetables, and around them women, with +head-kerchiefs gathered round their weary, sunburnt faces in the hottest +weather, stand and quarrel over each other's wares.</p> + +<p>"It's certainly worth my while to stand quarrelling with <i>you</i>! A tramp +like you keeping a stall!"</p> + +<p>Yente, a woman about forty, whose wide lips have just uttered the above, +wears a large, dirty apron, and her broad, red face, with the composed +glance of the eyes under the kerchief, gives support to her words.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose you have got the Almighty by the beard? He is mine as +well as yours!" answers Taube, pulling her kerchief lower about her +ears, and angrily stroking down her hair.</p> + +<p>A new customer approached Yente's stall, and Taube, standing by idle, +passed the time in vituperations.</p> + +<p>"What do I want with the money of a fine lady like you? You'll die like +the rest of us, and not a dog will say Kaddish for you," she shrieked, +and came to a sudden stop, for Taube had intended to bring up the<a name="page_515" id="page_515"></a> +subject of her own son Yitzchokel, when she remembered that it is +against good manners to praise one's own.</p> + +<p>Yente, measuring out a quarter of pears to her customer, made answer:</p> + +<p>"Well, if you were a little superior to what you are, your husband +wouldn't have died, and your child wouldn't have to be ashamed of you, +as we all know he is."</p> + +<p>Whereon Taube flew into a rage, and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Hussy! The idea of my son being ashamed of me! May you be a sacrifice +for his littlest finger-nail, for you're not worthy to mention his +name!"</p> + +<p>She was about to burst out weeping at the accusation of having been the +cause of her husband's death and of causing her son to be ashamed of +her, but she kept back her tears with all her might in order not to give +pleasure to Yente.</p> + +<p>The sun was dropping lower behind the other end of the little town, Jews +were hurrying across the market-place to Evening Prayer in the +house-of-study street, and the Cheder-boys, just let out, began to +gather round the well.</p> + +<p>Taube collected her few little baskets into her arms (the door and the +chairs she left in the market-place; nobody would steal them), and with +two or three parting curses to the rude Yente, she quietly quitted the +scene.</p> + +<p>Walking home with her armful of baskets, she thought of her son +Yitzchokel.</p> + +<p>Yente's stinging remarks pursued her. It was not Yente's saying that she +had caused her husband's death that she minded, for everyone knew how +hard she had<a name="page_516" id="page_516"></a> worked during his illness, it was her saying that +Yitzchokel was ashamed of her, that she felt in her "ribs." It occurred +to her that when he came home for the night, he never would touch +anything in her house.</p> + +<p>And thinking this over, she started once more abusing Yente.</p> + +<p>"Let her not live to see such a thing, Lord of the World, the One +Father!"</p> + +<p>It seemed to her that this fancy of hers, that Yitzchokel was ashamed of +her, was all Yente's fault, it was all her doing, the witch!</p> + +<p>"My child, my Yitzchokel, what business is he of yours?" and the cry +escaped her:</p> + +<p>"Lord of the World, take up my quarrel, Thou art a Father to the +orphaned, Thou shouldst not forgive her this!"</p> + +<p>"Who is that? Whom are you scolding so, Taube?" called out Necheh, the +rich man's wife, standing in the door of her shop, and overhearing +Taube, as she scolded to herself on the walk home.</p> + +<p>"Who should it be, housemistress, who but the hussy, the abortion, the +witch," answered Taube, pointing with one finger towards the +market-place, and, without so much as lifting her head to look at the +person speaking to her, she went on her way.</p> + +<p>She remembered, as she walked, how, that morning, when she went into +Necheh's kitchen with a fowl, she heard her Yitzchokel's voice in the +other room disputing with Necheh's boys over the Talmud. She knew that +on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his "day" at Necheh's table, and she had +taken the fowl there that day<a name="page_517" id="page_517"></a> on purpose, so that her Yitzchokel should +have a good plate of soup, for her poor child was but weakly.</p> + +<p>When she heard her son's voice, she had been about to leave the kitchen, +and yet she had stayed. Her Yitzchokel disputing with Necheh's children? +What did they know as compared with him? Did they come up to his level? +"He will be ashamed of me," she thought with a start, "when he finds me +with a chicken in my hand. So his mother is a market-woman, they will +say, there's a fine partner for you!" But she had not left the kitchen. +A child who had never cost a farthing, and she should like to know how +much Necheh's children cost their parents! If she had all the money that +Yitzchokel ought to have cost, the money that ought to have been spent +on him, she would be a rich woman too, and she stood and listened to his +voice.</p> + +<p>"Oi, <i>he</i> should have lived to see Yitzchokel, it would have made him +well." Soon the door opened, Necheh's boys appeared, and her Yitzchokel +with them. His cheeks flamed.</p> + +<p>"Good morning!" he said feebly, and was out at the door in no time. She +knew that she had caused him vexation, that he was ashamed of her before +his companions.</p> + +<p>And she asked herself: Her child, her Yitzchokel, who had sucked her +milk, what had Necheh to do with him? And she had poured out her +bitterness of heart upon Yente's head for this also, that her son had +cost her parents nothing, and was yet a better scholar than Necheh's +children, and once more she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Lord of the World! Avenge my quarrel, pay her out for it, let her not +live to see another day!"<a name="page_518" id="page_518"></a></p> + +<p>Passers-by, seeing a woman walking and scolding aloud, laughed.</p> + +<p>Night came on, the little town was darkened.</p> + +<p>Taube reached home with her armful of baskets, dragged herself up the +steps, and opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Mame, it's Ma-a-me!" came voices from within.</p> + +<p>The house was full of smoke, the children clustered round her in the +middle of the room, and never ceased calling out Mame! One child's voice +was tearful: "Where have you been all day?" another's more cheerful: +"How nice it is to have you back!" and all the voices mingled together +into one.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet! You don't give me time to draw my breath!" cried the mother, +laying down the baskets.</p> + +<p>She went to the fireplace, looked about for something, and presently the +house was illumined by a smoky lamp.</p> + +<p>The feeble shimmer lighted only the part round the hearth, where Taube +was kindling two pieces of stick—an old dusty sewing-machine beside a +bed, sign of a departed tailor, and a single bed opposite the lamp, +strewn with straw, on which lay various fruits, the odor of which filled +the room. The rest of the apartment with the remaining beds lay in +shadow.</p> + +<p>It is a year and a half since her husband, Lezer the tailor, died. While +he was still alive, but when his cough had increased, and he could no +longer provide for his family, Taube had started earning something on +her own account, and the worse the cough, the harder she had to toil, so +that by the time she became a widow, she was already used to supporting +her whole family.<a name="page_519" id="page_519"></a></p> + +<p>The eldest boy, Yitzchokel, had been the one consolation of Lezer the +tailor's cheerless existence, and Lezer was comforted on his death-bed +to think he should leave a good Kaddish behind him.</p> + +<p>When he died, the householders had pity on the desolate widow, collected +a few rubles, so that she might buy something to traffic with, and, +seeing that Yitzchokel was a promising boy, they placed him in the +house-of-study, arranged for him to have his daily meals in the houses +of the rich, and bade him pass his time over the Talmud.</p> + +<p>Taube, when she saw her Yitzchokel taking his meals with the rich, felt +satisfied. A weakly boy, what could <i>she</i> give him to eat? There, at the +rich man's table, he had the best of everything, but it grieved her that +he should eat in strange, rich houses—she herself did not know whether +she had received a kindness or the reverse, when he was taken off her +hands.</p> + +<p>One day, sitting at her stall, she spied her Yitzchokel emerge from the +Shool-Gass with his Tefillin-bag under his arm, and go straight into the +house of Reb Zindel the rich, to breakfast, and a pang went through her +heart. She was still on terms, then, with Yente, because immediately +after the death of her husband everyone had been kind to her, and she +said:</p> + +<p>"Believe me, Yente, I don't know myself what it is. What right have I to +complain of the householders? They have been very good to me and to my +child, made provision for him in rich houses, treated him as if he were +<i>no</i> market-woman's son, but the child of gentlefolk, and yet every day +when I give the other children<a name="page_520" id="page_520"></a> their dinner, I forget, and lay a plate +for my Yitzchokel too, and when I remember that he has his meals at +other people's hands, I begin to cry."</p> + +<p>"Go along with you for a foolish woman!" answered Yente. "How would he +turn out if he were left to you? What is a poor person to give a child +to eat, when you come to think of it?"</p> + +<p>"You are right, Yente," Taube replied, "but when I portion out the +dinner for the others, it cuts me to the heart."</p> + +<p>And now, as she sat by the hearth cooking the children's supper, the +same feeling came over her, that they had stolen her Yitzchokel away.</p> + +<p>When the children had eaten and gone to bed, she stood the lamp on the +table, and began mending a shirt for Yitzchokel.</p> + +<p>Presently the door opened, and he, Yitzchokel, came in.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel was about fourteen, tall and thin, his pale face telling out +sharply against his black cloak beneath his black cap.</p> + +<p>"Good evening!" he said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>The mother gave up her place to him, feeling that she owed him respect, +without knowing exactly why, and it was borne in upon her that she and +her poverty together were a misfortune for Yitzchokel.</p> + +<p>He took a book out of the case, sat down, and opened it.</p> + +<p>The mother gave the lamp a screw, wiped the globe with her apron, and +pushed the lamp nearer to him.<a name="page_521" id="page_521"></a></p> + +<p>"Will you have a glass of tea, Yitzchokel?" she asked softly, wishful to +serve him.</p> + +<p>"No, I have just had some."</p> + +<p>"Or an apple?"</p> + +<p>He was silent.</p> + +<p>The mother cleaned a plate, laid two apples on it, and a knife, and +placed it on the table beside him.</p> + +<p>He peeled one of the apples as elegantly as a grown-up man, repeated the +blessing aloud, and ate.</p> + +<p>When Taube had seen Yitzchokel eat an apple, she felt more like his +mother, and drew a little nearer to him.</p> + +<p>And Yitzchokel, as he slowly peeled the second apple, began to talk more +amiably:</p> + +<p>"To-day I talked with the Dayan about going somewhere else. In the +house-of-study here, there is nothing to do, nobody to study with, +nobody to ask how and where, and in which book, and he advises me to go +to the Academy at Makove; he will give me a letter to Reb Chayyim, the +headmaster, and ask him to befriend me."</p> + +<p>When Taube heard that her son was about to leave her, she experienced a +great shock, but the words, Dayan, Rosh-Yeshiveh, mekarev-sein, and +other high-sounding bits of Hebrew, which she did not understand, +overawed her, and she felt she must control herself. Besides, the words +held some comfort for her: Yitzchokel was holding counsel with her, with +her—his mother!</p> + +<p>"Of course, if the Dayan says so," she answered piously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Yitzchokel continued, "there one can hear lectures with all the +commentaries; Reb Chayyim, the<a name="page_522" id="page_522"></a> author of the book "Light of the Torah," +is a well-known scholar, and there one has a chance of getting to be +something decent."</p> + +<p>His words entirely reassured her, she felt a certain happiness and +exaltation, because he was her child, because she was the mother of such +a child, such a son, and because, were it not for her, Yitzchokel would +not be there at all. At the same time her heart pained her, and she grew +sad.</p> + +<p>Presently she remembered her husband, and burst out crying:</p> + +<p>"If only <i>he</i> had lived, if only he could have had this consolation!" +she sobbed.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel minded his book.</p> + +<p>That night Taube could not sleep, for at the thought of Yitzchokel's +departure the heart ached within her.</p> + +<p>And she dreamt, as she lay in bed, that some great Rabbis with tall fur +caps and long earlocks came in and took her Yitzchokel away from her; +her Yitzchokel was wearing a fur cap and locks like theirs, and he held +a large book, and he went far away with the Rabbis, and she stood and +gazed after him, not knowing, should she rejoice or weep.</p> + +<p>Next morning she woke late. Yitzchokel had already gone to his studies. +She hastened to dress the children, and hurried to the market-place. At +her stall she fell athinking, and fancied she was sitting beside her +son, who was a Rabbi in a large town; there he sits in shoes and socks, +a great fur cap on his head, and looks into a huge book. She sits at his +right hand knitting a<a name="page_523" id="page_523"></a> sock, the door opens, and there appears Yente +carrying a dish, to ask a ritual question of Taube's son.</p> + +<p>A customer disturbed her sweet dream.</p> + +<p>After this Taube sat up whole nights at the table, by the light of the +smoky lamp, rearranging and mending Yitzchokel's shirts for the journey; +she recalled with every stitch that she was sewing for Yitzchokel, who +was going to the Academy, to sit and study, and who, every Friday, would +put on a shirt prepared for him by his mother.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel sat as always on the other side of the table, gazing into a +book. The mother would have liked to speak to him, but she did not know +what to say.</p> + +<p>Taube and Yitzchokel were up before daylight.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel kissed his little brothers in their sleep, and said to his +sleeping little sisters, "Remain in health"; one sister woke and began +to cry, saying she wanted to go with him. The mother embraced and +quieted her softly, then she and Yitzchokel left the room, carrying his +box between them.</p> + +<p>The street was still fast asleep, the shops were still closed, behind +the church belfry the morning star shone coldly forth onto the cold +morning dew on the roofs, and there was silence over all, except in the +market-place, where there stood a peasant's cart laden with fruit. It +was surrounded by women, and Yente's voice was heard from afar:</p> + +<p>"Five gulden and ten groschen,' and I'll take the lot!"</p> + +<p>And Taube, carrying Yitzchokel's box behind him, walked thus through the +market-place, and, catching sight of Yente, she looked at her with +pride.<a name="page_524" id="page_524"></a></p> + +<p>They came out behind the town, onto the highroad, and waited for an +"opportunity" to come by on its way to Lentschitz, whence Yitzchokel was +to proceed to Kutno.</p> + +<p>The sky was grey and cold, and mingled in the distance with the dingy +mist rising from the fields, and the road, silent and deserted, ran away +out of sight.</p> + +<p>They sat down beside the barrier, and waited for the "opportunity."</p> + +<p>The mother scraped together a few twenty-kopek-pieces out of her pocket, +and put them into his bosom, twisted up in his shirt.</p> + +<p>Presently a cart came by, crowded with passengers. She secured a seat +for Yitzchokel for forty groschen, and hoisted the box into the cart.</p> + +<p>"Go in health! Don't forget your mother!" she cried in tears.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel was silent.</p> + +<p>She wanted to kiss her child, but she knew it was not the thing for a +grown-up boy to be kissed, so she refrained.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel mounted the cart, the passengers made room for him among +them.</p> + +<p>"Remain in health, mother!" he called out as the cart set off.</p> + +<p>"Go in health, my child! Sit and study, and don't forget your mother!" +she cried after him.</p> + +<p>The cart moved further and further, till it was climbing the hill in the +distance.</p> + +<p>Taube still stood and followed it with her gaze; and not till it was +lost to view in the dust did she turn and walk back to the town.<a name="page_525" id="page_525"></a></p> + +<p>She took a road that should lead her past the cemetery.</p> + +<p>There was a rather low plank fence round it, and the gravestones were +all to be seen, looking up to Heaven.</p> + +<p>Taube went and hitched herself up onto the fence, and put her head over +into the "field," looking for something among the tombs, and when her +eyes had discovered a familiar little tombstone, she shook her head:</p> + +<p>"Lezer, Lezer! Your son has driven away to the Academy to study Torah!"</p> + +<p>Then she remembered the market, where Yente must by now have bought up +the whole cart-load of fruit. There would be nothing left for her, and +she hurried into the town.</p> + +<p>She walked at a great pace, and felt very pleased with herself. She was +conscious of having done a great thing, and this dissipated her +annoyance at the thought of Yente acquiring all the fruit.</p> + +<p>Two weeks later she got a letter from Yitzchokel, and, not being able to +read it herself, she took it to Reb Yochanan, the teacher, that he might +read it for her.</p> + +<p>Reb Yochanan put on his glasses, cleared his throat thoroughly, and +began to read:</p> + +<p>"Le-Immi ahuvossi hatzenuoh" ...</p> + +<p>"What is the translation?" asked Taube.</p> + +<p>"It is the way to address a mother," explained Reb Yochanan, and +continued.</p> + +<p>Taube's face had brightened, she put her apron to her eyes and wept for +joy.</p> + +<p>The reader observed this and read on.<a name="page_526" id="page_526"></a></p> + +<p>"What is the translation, the translation, Reb Yochanan?" the woman kept +on asking.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, it's not for you, you wouldn't understand—it is an +exposition of a passage in the Gemoreh."</p> + +<p>She was silent, the Hebrew words awed her, and she listened respectfully +to the end.</p> + +<p>"I salute Immi ahuvossi and Achoissai, Sarah and Goldeh, and Ochi Yakov; +tell him to study diligently. I have all my 'days' and I sleep at Reb +Chayyim's," gave out Reb Yochanan suddenly in Yiddish.</p> + +<p>Taube contented herself with these few words, took back the letter, put +it in her pocket, and went back to her stall with great joy.</p> + +<p>"This evening," she thought, "I will show it to the Dayan, and let him +read it too."</p> + +<p>And no sooner had she got home, cooked the dinner, and fed the children, +than she was off with the letter to the Dayan.</p> + +<p>She entered the room, saw the tall bookcases filled with books covering +the walls, and a man with a white beard sitting at the end of the table +reading.</p> + +<p>"What is it, a ritual question?" asked the Dayan from his place.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"A letter from my Yitzchokel."</p> + +<p>The Dayan rose, came up and looked at her, took the letter, and began to +read it silently to himself.</p> + +<p>"Well done, excellent, good! The little fellow knows what he is saying," +said the Dayan more to himself than to her.<a name="page_527" id="page_527"></a></p> + +<p>Tears streamed from Taube's eyes.</p> + +<p>"If only <i>he</i> had lived! if only he had lived!"</p> + +<p>"Shechitas chutz ... Rambam ... Tossafos is right ..." went on the +Dayan.</p> + +<p>"Her Yitzchokel, Taube the market-woman's son," she thought proudly.</p> + +<p>"Take the letter," said the Dayan, at last, "I've read it all through."</p> + +<p>"Well, and what?" asked the woman.</p> + +<p>"What? What do you want then?"</p> + +<p>"What does it say?" she asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in it for you, you wouldn't understand," replied the +Dayan, with a smile.</p> + +<p>Yitzchokel continued to write home, the Yiddish words were fewer every +time, often only a greeting to his mother. And she came to Reb Yochanan, +and he read her the Yiddish phrases, with which she had to be satisfied. +"The Hebrew words are for the Dayan," she said to herself.</p> + +<p>But one day, "There is nothing in the letter for you," said Reb +Yochanan.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he said shortly.</p> + +<p>"Read me at least what there is."</p> + +<p>"But it is all Hebrew, Torah, you won't understand."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, I <i>won't</i> understand...."</p> + +<p>"Go in health, and don't drive me distracted."</p> + +<p>Taube left him, and resolved to go that evening to the Dayan.</p> + +<p>"Rebbe, excuse me, translate this into Yiddish," she said, handing him +the letter.</p> + +<p>The Dayan took the letter and read it.<a name="page_528" id="page_528"></a></p> + +<p>"Nothing there for you," he said.</p> + +<p>"Rebbe," said Taube, shyly, "excuse me, translate the Hebrew for me!"</p> + +<p>"But it is Torah, an exposition of a passage in the Torah. You won't +understand."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you would only read the letter in Hebrew, but aloud, so that I +may hear what he says."</p> + +<p>"But you won't understand one word, it's Hebrew!" persisted the Dayan, +with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>won't</i> understand, that's all," said the woman, "but it's my +child's Torah, my child's!"</p> + +<p>The Dayan reflected a while, then he began to read aloud.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, he glanced at Taube, and remembered he was +expounding the Torah to a woman! And he felt thankful no one had heard +him.</p> + +<p>"Take the letter, there is nothing in it for you," he said +compassionately, and sat down again in his place.</p> + +<p>"But it is my child's Torah, my Yitzchokel's letter, why mayn't I hear +it? What does it matter if I don't understand? It is my own child!"</p> + +<p>The Dayan turned coldly away.</p> + +<p>When Taube reached home after this interview, she sat down at the table, +took down the lamp from the wall, and looked silently at the letter by +its smoky light.</p> + +<p>She kissed the letter, but then it occurred to her that she was defiling +it with her lips, she, a sinful woman!</p> + +<p>She rose, took her husband's prayer-book from the bookshelf, and laid +the letter between its leaves.</p> + +<p>Then with trembling lips she kissed the covers of the book, and placed +it once more in the bookcase.<a name="page_529" id="page_529"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_SINNER" id="THE_SINNER"></a>THE SINNER</h3> + +<p>So that you should not suspect me of taking his part, I will write a +short preface to my story.</p> + +<p>It is written: "A man never so much as moves his finger, but it has been +so decreed from above," and whatsoever a man does, he fulfils God's +will—even animals and birds (I beg to distinguish!) carry out God's +wishes: whenever a bird flies, it fulfils a precept, because God, +blessed is He, formed it to fly, and an ox the same when it lows, and +even a dog when it barks—all praise God with their voices, and sing +hymns to Him, each after his manner.</p> + +<p>And even the wicked who transgresses fulfils God's will in spite of +himself, because why? Do you suppose he takes pleasure in transgressing? +Isn't he certain to repent? Well, then? He is just carrying out the will +of Heaven.</p> + +<p>And the Evil Inclination himself! Why, every time he is sent to persuade +a Jew to sin, he weeps and sighs: Woe is me, that I should be sent on +such an errand!</p> + +<p>After this little preface, I will tell you the story itself.</p> + +<p>Formerly, before the thing happened, he was called Reb Avròhom, but +afterwards they ceased calling him by his name, and said simply the +Sinner.</p> + +<p>Reb Avròhom was looked up to and respected by the whole town, a +God-fearing Jew, beloved and honored by all, and mothers wished they +might have children like him.<a name="page_530" id="page_530"></a></p> + +<p>He sat the whole day in the house-of-study and learned. Not that he was +a great scholar, but he was a pious, scrupulously observant Jew, who +followed the straight and beaten road, a man without any pride. He used +to recite the prayers in Shool together with the strangers by the door, +and quite quietly, without any shouting or, one may say, any special +enthusiasm. His prayer that rose to Heaven, the barred gates opening +before it till it entered and was taken up into the Throne of Glory, +this prayer of his did not become a diamond there, dazzling the eye, but +a softly glistening pearl.</p> + +<p>And how, you ask, did he come to be called the Sinner? On this wise: You +must know that everyone, even those who were hardest on him after the +affair, acknowledged that he was a great lover of Israel, and I will add +that his sin and, Heaven defend us, his coming to such a fall, all +proceeded from his being such a lover of Israel, such a patriot.</p> + +<p>And it was just the simple Jew, the very common folk, that he loved.</p> + +<p>He used to say: A Jew who is a driver, for instance, and busy all the +week with his horses and cart, and soaked in materialism for six days at +a stretch, so that he only just manages to get in his prayers—when he +comes home on Sabbath and sits down to table, and the bed is made, and +the candles burning, and his wife and children are round him, and they +sing hymns together, well, the driver dozing off over his prayer-book +and forgetting to say grace, I tell you, said Reb Avròhom, the Divine +Presence rests on his house and rejoices and<a name="page_531" id="page_531"></a> says, "Happy am I that I +chose me out this people," for such a Jew keeps Sabbath, rests himself, +and his horse rests, keeps Sabbath likewise, stands in the stable, and +is also conscious that it is the holy Sabbath, and when the driver rises +from his sleep, he leads the animal out to pasture, waters it, and they +all go for a walk with it in the meadow.</p> + +<p>And this walk of theirs is more acceptable to God, blessed is He, than +repeating "Bless the Lord, O my soul." It may be this was because he +himself was of humble origin; he had lived till he was thirteen with his +father, a farmer, in an out-of-the-way village, and ignorant even of his +letters. True, his father had taken a youth into the house to teach him +Hebrew, but Reb Avròhom as a boy was very wild, wouldn't mind his book, +and ran all day after the oxen and horses.</p> + +<p>He used to lie out in the meadow, hidden in the long grasses, near him +the horses with their heads down pulling at the grass, and the view +stretched far, far away, into the endless distance, and above him spread +the wide sky, through which the clouds made their way, and the green, +juicy earth seemed to look up at it and say: "Look, sky, and see how +cheerfully I try to obey God's behest, to make the world green with +grass!" And the sky made answer: "See, earth, how I try to fulfil God's +command, by spreading myself far and wide!" and the few trees scattered +over the fields were like witnesses to their friendly agreement. And +little Avròhom lay and rejoiced in the goodness and all the work of God. +Suddenly, as though he had received a revelation from Heaven, he went +home, and asked the youth who was<a name="page_532" id="page_532"></a> his teacher, "What blessing should +one recite on feeling happy at sight of the world?" The youth laughed, +and said: "You stupid boy! One says a blessing over bread and water, but +as to saying one over <i>this world</i>—who ever heard of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>Avròhom wondered, "The world is beautiful, the sky so pretty, the earth +so sweet and soft, everything is so delightful to look at, and one says +no blessing over it all!"</p> + +<p>At thirteen he had left the village and come to the town. There, in the +house-of-study, he saw the head of the Academy sitting at one end of the +table, and around it, the scholars, all reciting in fervent, appealing +tones that went to his heart.</p> + +<p>The boy began to cry, whereupon the head of the Academy turned, and saw +a little boy with a torn hat, crying, and his hair coming out through +the holes, and his boots slung over his shoulder, like a peasant lad +fresh from the road. The scholars laughed, but the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh +asked him what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"To learn," he answered in a low, pleading voice.</p> + +<p>The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh had compassion on him, and took him as a pupil. +Avròhom applied himself earnestly to the Torah, and in a few days could +read Hebrew and follow the prayers without help.</p> + +<p>And the way he prayed was a treat to watch. You should have seen him! He +just stood and talked, as one person talks to another, quietly and +affectionately, without any tricks of manner.</p> + +<p>Once the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh saw him praying, and said before his whole +Academy, "I can learn better than<a name="page_533" id="page_533"></a> he, but when it comes to praying, I +don't reach to his ankles." That is what he said.</p> + +<p>So Reb Avròhom lived there till he was grown up, and had married the +daughter of a simple tailor. Indeed, he learnt tailoring himself, and +lived by his ten fingers. By day he sat and sewed with an open +prayer-book before him, and recited portions of the Psalms to himself. +After dark he went into the house-of-study, so quietly that no one +noticed him, and passed half the night over the Talmud.</p> + +<p>Once some strangers came to the town, and spent the night in the +house-of-study behind the stove. Suddenly they heard a thin, sweet voice +that was like a tune in itself. They started up, and saw him at his +book. The small lamp hanging by a cord poured a dim light upon him where +he sat, while the walls remained in shadow. He studied with ardor, with +enthusiasm, only his enthusiasm was not for beholders, it was all +within; he swayed slowly to and fro, and his shadow swayed with him, and +he softly chanted the Gemoreh. By degrees his voice rose, his face +kindled, and his eyes began to glow, one could see that his very soul +was resolving itself into his chanting. The Divine Presence hovered over +him, and he drank in its sweetness. And in the middle of his reading, he +got up and walked about the room, repeating in a trembling whisper, +"Lord of the World! O Lord of the World!"</p> + +<p>Then his voice grew as suddenly calm, and he stood still, as though he +had dozed off where he stood, for pure delight. The lamp grew dim, and +still he stood and stood and never moved.<a name="page_534" id="page_534"></a></p> + +<p>Awe fell on the travellers behind the stove, and they cried out. He +started and approached them, and they had to close their eyes against +the brightness of his face, the light that shone out of his eyes! And he +stood there quite quietly and simply, and asked in a gentle voice why +they had called out. Were they cold?</p> + +<p>And he took off his cloak and spread it over them.</p> + +<p>Next morning the travellers told all this, and declared that no sooner +had the cloak touched them than they had fallen asleep, and they had +seen and heard nothing more that night. After this, when the whole town +had got wind of it, and they found out who it was that night in the +house-of-study, the people began to believe that he was a Tzaddik, and +they came to him with Petitions, as Chassidim to their Rebbes, asking +him to pray for their health and other wants. But when they brought him +such a petition, he would smile and say: "Believe me, a little boy who +says grace over a piece of bread which his mother has given him, he can +help you more than twenty such as I."</p> + +<p>Of course, his words made no impression, except that they brought more +petitions than ever, upon which he said:</p> + +<p>"You insist on a man of flesh and blood such as I being your advocate +with God, blessed is He. Hear a parable: To what shall we liken the +thing? To the light of the sun and the light of a small lamp. You can +rejoice in the sunlight as much as you please, and no one can take your +joy from you; the poorest and most humble may revive himself with it, so +long as his eyes can behold it, and even though a man should sit, which +God forbid,<a name="page_535" id="page_535"></a> in a dungeon with closed windows, a reflection will make +its way in through the chinks, and he shall rejoice in the brightness. +But with the poor light of a lamp it is otherwise. A rich man buys a +quantity of lamps and illumines his house, while a poor man sits in +darkness. God, blessed be He, is the great light that shines for the +whole world, reviving and refreshing all His works. The whole world is +full of His mercy, and His compassion is over all His creatures. Believe +me, you have no need of an advocate with Him; God is your Father, and +you are His dear children. How should a child need an advocate with his +father?"</p> + +<p>The ordinary folk heard and were silent, but our people, the Chassidim, +were displeased. And I'll tell you another thing, I was the first to +mention it to the Rebbe, long life to him, and he, as is well known, +commanded Reb Avròhom to his presence.</p> + +<p>So we set to work to persuade Reb Avròhom and talked to him till he had +to go with us.</p> + +<p>The journey lasted four days.</p> + +<p>I remember one night, the moon was wandering in a blue ocean of sky that +spread ever so far, till it mingled with a cloud, and she looked at us, +pitifully and appealingly, as though to ask us if we knew which way she +ought to go, to the right or to the left, and presently the cloud came +upon her, and she began struggling to get out of it, and a minute or two +later she was free again and smiling at us.</p> + +<p>Then a little breeze came, and stroked our faces, and we looked round to +the four sides of the world, and it seemed as if the whole world were +wrapped in a prayer-scarf<a name="page_536" id="page_536"></a> woven of mercy, and we fell into a slight +melancholy, a quiet sadness, but so sweet and pleasant, it felt like on +Sabbath at twilight at the Third Meal.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Reb Avròhom exclaimed: "Jews, have you said the blessings on +the appearance of the new moon?" We turned towards the moon, laid down +our bundles, washed our hands in a little stream that ran by the +roadside, and repeated the blessings for the new moon.</p> + +<p>He stood looking into the sky, his lips scarcely moving, as was his +wont. "Sholom Alechem!" he said, turning to me, and his voice quivered +like a violin, and his eyes called to peace and unity. Then an awe of +Reb Avròhom came over me for the first time, and when we had finished +sanctifying the moon our melancholy left us, and we prepared to continue +our way.</p> + +<p>But still he stood and gazed heavenward, sighing: "Lord of the Universe! +How beautiful is the world which Thou hast made by Thy goodness and +great mercy, and these are over all Thy creatures. They all love Thee, +and are glad in Thee, and Thou art glad in them, and the whole world is +full of Thy glory."</p> + +<p>I glanced up at the moon, and it seemed that she was still looking at +me, and saying, "I'm lost; which way am I to go?"</p> + +<p>We arrived Friday afternoon, and had time enough to go to the bath and +to greet the Rebbe.</p> + +<p>He, long life to him, was seated in the reception-room beside a table, +his long lashes low over his eyes, leaning on his left hand, while he +greeted incomers with his right. We went up to him, one at a time, shook +hands, and said "Sholom Alechem," and he, long life to him,<a name="page_537" id="page_537"></a> said +nothing to us. Reb Avròhom also went up to him, and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>A change came over the Rebbe, he raised his eyelids with his fingers, +and looked at Reb Avròhom for some time in silence.</p> + +<p>And Reb Avròhom looked at the Rebbe, and was silent too.</p> + +<p>The Chassidim were offended by such impertinence.</p> + +<p>That evening we assembled in the Rebbe's house-of-study, to usher in the +Sabbath. It was tightly packed with Jews, one pushing the other, or +seizing hold of his girdle, only beside the ark was there a free space +left, a semicircle, in the middle of which stood the Rebbe and prayed.</p> + +<p>But Reb Avròhom stood by the door among the poor guests, and prayed +after his fashion.</p> + +<p>"To Kiddush!" called the beadle.</p> + +<p>The Rebbe's wife, daughters, and daughters-in-law now appeared, and +their jewelry, their precious stones, and their pearls, sparkled and +shone.</p> + +<p>The Rebbe stood and repeated the prayer of Sanctification.</p> + +<p>He was slightly bent, and his grey beard swept his breast. His eyes were +screened by his lashes, and he recited the Sanctification in a loud +voice, giving to every word a peculiar inflection, to every sign an +expression of its own.</p> + +<p>"To table!" was called out next.</p> + +<p>At the head of the table sat the Rebbe, sons and sons-in-law to the +left, relations to the right of him, then the principal aged Jews, then +the rich.<a name="page_538" id="page_538"></a></p> + +<p>The people stood round about.</p> + +<p>The Rebbe ate, and began to serve out the leavings, to his sons and +sons-in-law first, and to the rest of those sitting at the table after.</p> + +<p>Then there was silence, the Rebbe began to expound the Torah. The +portion of the week was Numbers, chapter eight, and the Rebbe began:</p> + +<p>"When a man's soul is on a low level, enveloped, Heaven defend us, in +uncleanness, and the Divine spark within the soul wishes to rise to a +higher level, and cannot do so alone, but must needs be helped, it is a +Mitzveh to help her, to raise her, and this Mitzveh is specially +incumbent on the priest. This is the meaning of 'the seven lamps shall +give light over against the candlestick,' by which is meant the holy +Torah. The priest must bring the Jew's heart near to the Torah; in this +way he is able to raise it. And who is the priest? The righteous in his +generation, because since the Temple was destroyed, the saint must be a +priest, for thus is the command from above, that he shall be the +priest...."</p> + +<p>"Avròhom!" the Rebbe called suddenly, "Avròhom! Come here, I am calling +you."</p> + +<p>The other went up to him.</p> + +<p>"Avròhom, did you understand? Did you make out the meaning of what I +said?</p> + +<p>"Your silence," the Rebbe went on, "is an acknowledgment. I must raise +you, even though it be against my will and against your will."</p> + +<p>There was dead stillness in the room, people waiting to hear what would +come next.<a name="page_539" id="page_539"></a></p> + +<p>"You are silent?" asked the Rebbe, now a little sternly.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> want to be a raiser of souls? Have <i>you</i>, bless and preserve us, +bought the Almighty for yourself? Do you think that a Jew can approach +nearer to God, blessed is He, through <i>you</i>? That <i>you</i> are the 'handle +of the pestle' and the rest of the Jews nowhere? God's grace is +everywhere, whichever way we turn, every time we move a limb we feel +God! Everyone must seek Him in his own heart, because there it is that +He has caused the Divine Presence to rest. Everywhere and always can the +Jew draw near to God...."</p> + +<p>Thus answered Reb Avròhom, but our people, the Rebbe's followers, shut +his mouth before he had made an end, and had the Rebbe not held them +back, they would have torn him in pieces on the spot.</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone!" he commanded the Chassidim.</p> + +<p>And to Reb Avròhom he said:</p> + +<p>"Avròhom, you have sinned!"</p> + +<p>And from that day forward he was called the Sinner, and was shut out +from everywhere. The Chassidim kept their eye on him, and persecuted +him, and he was not even allowed to pray in the house-of-study.</p> + +<p>And I'll tell you what I think: A wicked man, even when he acts +according to his wickedness, fulfils God's command. And who knows? +Perhaps they were both right!</p> + +<p><a name="page_540" id="page_540"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_541" id="page_541"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="ISAAC_DOB_BERKOWITZ" id="ISAAC_DOB_BERKOWITZ"></a>ISAAC DOB BERKOWITZ</h3> + +<p>Born, 1885, in Slutzk, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; was in America for a short time in 1908; contributor to Die +Zukunft; co-editor of Ha-Olam, Wilna; Hebrew and Yiddish writer; +collected works: Yiddish, Gesammelte Schriften, Warsaw, 1910; +Hebrew, Sippurim, Cracow, 1910.</p> + +<p><a name="page_542" id="page_542"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_543" id="page_543"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="COUNTRY_FOLK" id="COUNTRY_FOLK"></a>COUNTRY FOLK</h3> + +<p>Feivke was a wild little villager, about seven years old, who had +tumbled up from babyhood among Gentile urchins, the only Jewish boy in +the place, just as his father Mattes, the Kozlov smith, was the only +Jewish householder there. Feivke had hardly ever met, or even seen, +anyone but the people of Kozlov and their children. Had it not been for +his black eyes, with their moody, persistent gaze from beneath the shade +of a deep, worn-out leather cap, it would have puzzled anyone to make +out his parentage, to know whence that torn and battered face, that red +scar across the top lip, those large, black, flat, unchild-like feet. +But the eyes explained everything—his mother's eyes.</p> + +<p>Feivke spent the whole summer with the village urchins in the +neighboring wood, picking mushrooms, climbing the trees, driving +wood-pigeons off their high nests, or wading knee-deep in the shallow +bog outside to seek the black, slippery bog-worms; or else he found +himself out in the fields, jumping about on the top of a load of hay +under a hot sky, and shouting to his companions, till he was bathed in +perspiration. At other times, he gathered himself away into a dark, cool +barn, scrambled at the peril of his life along a round beam under the +roof, crunched dried pears, saw how the sun sprinkled the darkness with +a thousand sparks, and—thought. He could always think about Mikita, the +son of the village elder, who had almost risen to be conductor on a +railway train, and who came from a long way off to visit<a name="page_544" id="page_544"></a> his father, +brass buttons to his coat and a purse full of silver rubles, and piped +to the village girls of an evening on the most cunning kind of whistle.</p> + +<p>How often it had happened that Feivke could not be found, and did not +even come home to bed! But his parents troubled precious little about +him, seeing that he was growing up a wild, dissolute boy, and the +displeasure of Heaven rested on his head.</p> + +<p>Feivke was not a timid child, but there were two things he was afraid +of: God and davvening. Feivke had never, to the best of his +recollection, seen God, but he often heard His name, they threatened him +with It, glanced at the ceiling, and sighed. And this embittered +somewhat his sweet, free days. He felt that the older he grew, the +sooner he would have to present himself before this terrifying, stern, +and unfamiliar God, who was hidden somewhere, whether near or far he +could not tell. One day Feivke all but ran a danger. It was early on a +winter morning; there was a cold, wild wind blowing outside, and indoors +there was a black stranger Jew, in a thick sheepskin, breaking open the +tin charity boxes. The smith's wife served the stranger with hot +potatoes and sour milk, whereupon the stranger piously closed his eyes, +and, having reopened them, caught sight of Feivke through the white +steam rising from the dish of potatoes—Feivke, huddled up in a +corner—and beckoned him nearer.</p> + +<p>"Have you begun to learn, little boy?" he questioned, and took his cheek +between two pale, cold fingers, which sent a whiff of snuff up Feivke's +nose. His mother, standing by the stove, reddened, and made<a name="page_545" id="page_545"></a> some +inaudible answer. The black stranger threw up his eyes, and slowly shook +his head inside the wide sheepskin collar. This shaking to and fro of +his head boded no good, and Feivke grew strangely cold inside. Then he +grew hot all over, and, for several nights after, thousands of long, +cold, pale fingers pursued and pinched him in his dreams.</p> + +<p>They had never yet taught him to recite his prayers. Kozlov was a lonely +village, far from any Jewish settlement. Every Sabbath morning Feivke, +snug in bed, watched his father put on a mended black cloak, wrap +himself in the Tallis, shut his eyes, take on a bleating voice, and, +turning to the wall, commence a series of bows. Feivke felt that his +father was bowing before God, and this frightened him. He thought it a +very rash proceeding. Feivke, in his father's place, would sooner have +had nothing to do with God. He spent most of the time while his father +was at his prayers cowering under the coverlet, and only crept out when +he heard his mother busy with plates and spoons, and the pungent smell +of chopped radishes and onions penetrated to the bedroom.</p> + +<p>Winters and summers passed, and Feivke grew to be seven years old, just +such a Feivke as we have described. And the last summer passed, and gave +way to autumn.</p> + +<p>That autumn the smith's wife was brought to bed of a seventh child, and +before she was about again, the cold, damp days were upon them, with the +misty mornings, when a fish shivers in the water. And the days of her +confinement were mingled for the lonely<a name="page_546" id="page_546"></a> village Jewess with the Solemn +Days of that year into a hard and dreary time. She went slowly about the +house, as in a fog, without help or hope, and silent as a shadow. That +year they all led a dismal life. The elder children, girls, went out to +service in the neighboring towns, to make their own way among strangers. +The peasants had become sharper and worse than formerly, and the smith's +strength was not what it had been. So his wife resolved to send the two +men of the family, Mattes and Feivke, to a Minyan this Yom Kippur. +Maybe, if <i>two</i> went, God would not be able to resist them, and would +soften His heart.</p> + +<p>One morning, therefore, Mattes the smith washed, donned his mended +Sabbath cloak, went to the window, and blinked through it with his red +and swollen eyes. It was the Eve of the Day of Atonement. The room was +well-warmed, and there was a smell of freshly-stewed carrots. The +smith's wife went out to seek Feivke through the village, and brought +him home dishevelled and distracted, and all of a glow. She had torn him +away from an early morning of excitement and delight such as could +never, never be again. Mikita, the son of the village elder, had put his +father's brown colt into harness for the first time. The whole +contingent of village boys had been present to watch the fiery young +animal twisting between the shafts, drawing loud breaths into its +dilated and quivering nostrils, looking wildly at the surrounding boys, +and stamping impatiently, as though it would have liked to plow away the +earth from under its feet. And suddenly it had given a bound and started +careering through the village with<a name="page_547" id="page_547"></a> the cart behind it. There was a +glorious noise and commotion! Feivke was foremost among those who, in a +cloud of dust and at the peril of their life, had dashed to seize the +colt by the reins.</p> + +<p>His mother washed him, looked him over from the low-set leather hat down +to his great, black feet, stuffed a packet of food into his hands, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Go and be a good and devout boy, and God will forgive you."</p> + +<p>She stood on the threshold of the house, and looked after her two men +starting for a distant Minyan. The bearing of seven children had aged +and weakened the once hard, obstinate woman, and, left standing alone in +the doorway, watching her poor, barefoot, perverse-natured boy on his +way to present himself for the first time before God, she broke down by +the Mezuzeh and wept.</p> + +<p>Silently, step by step, Feivke followed his father between the desolate +stubble fields. It was a good ten miles' walk to the large village where +the Minyan assembled, and the fear and the wonder in Feivke's heart +increased all the way. He did not yet quite understand whither he was +being taken, and what was to be done with him there, and the impetus of +the brown colt's career through the village had not as yet subsided in +his head. Why had Father put on his black mended cloak? Why had he +brought a Tallis with him, and a white shirt-like garment? There was +certainly some hour of calamity and terror ahead, something was +preparing which had never happened before.<a name="page_548" id="page_548"></a></p> + +<p>They went by the great Kozlov wood, wherein every tree stood silent and +sad for its faded and fallen leaves. Feivke dropped behind his father, +and stepped aside into the wood. He wondered: Should he run away and +hide in the wood? He would willingly stay there for the rest of his +life. He would foregather with Nasta, the barrel-maker's son, he of the +knocked-out eye; they would roast potatoes out in the wood, and now and +again, stolen-wise, milk the village cows for their repast. Let them +beat him as much as they pleased, let them kill him on the spot, nothing +should induce him to leave the wood again!</p> + +<p>But no! As Feivke walked along under the silent trees and through the +fallen leaves, and perceived that the whole wood was filled through and +through with a soft, clear light, and heard the rustle of the leaves +beneath his step, a strange terror took hold of him. The wood had grown +so sparse, the trees so discolored, and he should have to remain in the +stillness alone, and roam about in the winter wind!</p> + +<p>Mattes the smith had stopped, wondering, and was blinking around with +his sick eyes.</p> + +<p>"Feivke, where are you?"</p> + +<p>Feivke appeared out of the wood.</p> + +<p>"Feivke, to-day you mustn't go into the wood. To-day God may yet—to-day +you must be a good boy," said the smith, repeating his wife's words as +they came to his mind, "and you must say Amen."</p> + +<p>Feivke hung his head and looked at his great, bare, black feet. "But if +I don't know how," he said sullenly.<a name="page_549" id="page_549"></a></p> + +<p>"It's no great thing to say Amen!" his father replied encouragingly. +"When you hear the other people say it, you can say it, too! Everyone +must say Amen, then God will forgive them," he added, recalling again +his wife and her admonitions.</p> + +<p>Feivke was silent, and once more followed his father step by step. What +will they ask him, and what is he to answer? It seemed to him now that +they were going right over away yonder where the pale, scarcely-tinted +sky touched the earth. There, on a hill, sits a great, old God in a +large sheepskin cloak. Everyone goes up to him, and He asks them +questions, which they have to answer, and He shakes His head to and fro +inside the sheepskin collar. And what is he, a wild, ignorant little +boy, to answer this great, old God?</p> + +<p>Feivke had committed a great many transgressions concerning which his +mother was constantly admonishing him, but now he was thinking only of +two great transgressions committed recently, of which his mother knew +nothing. One with regard to Anishka the beggar. Anishka was known to the +village, as far back as it could remember, as an old, blind beggar, who +went the round of the villages, feeling his way with a long stick. And +one day Feivke and another boy played him a trick: they placed a ladder +in his way, and Anishka stumbled and fell, hurting his nose. Some +peasants had come up and caught Feivke. Anishka sat in the middle of the +road with blood on his face, wept bitterly, and declared that God would +not forget his blood that had been spilt. The peasants had given the +little Zhydek a sound thrashing, but Feivke felt<a name="page_550" id="page_550"></a> now as if that would +not count: God would certainly remember the spilling of Anishka's blood.</p> + +<p>Feivke's second hidden transgression had been committed outside the +village, among the graves of the peasants. A whole troop of boys, Feivke +in their midst, had gone pigeon hunting, aiming at the pigeons with +stones, and a stone of Feivke's had hit the naked figure on the cross +that stood among the graves. The Gentile boys had started and taken +fright, and those among them who were Feivke's good friends told him he +had actually hit the son of God, and that the thing would have +consequences; it was one for which people had their heads cut off.</p> + +<p>These two great transgressions now stood before him, and his heart +warned him that the hour had come when he would be called to account for +what he had done to Anishka and to God's son. Only he did not know what +answer he could make.</p> + +<p>By the time they came near the windmill belonging to the large strange +village, the sun had begun to set. The village river with the trees +beside it were visible a long way off, and, crossing the river, a long +high bridge.</p> + +<p>"The Minyan is there," and Mattes pointed his finger at the thatched +roofs shining in the sunset.</p> + +<p>Feivke looked down from the bridge into the deep, black water that lay +smooth and still in the shadow of the trees. The bridge was high and the +water deep! Feivke felt sick at heart, and his mouth was dry.</p> + +<p>"But, Tate, I won't be able to answer," he let out in despair.<a name="page_551" id="page_551"></a></p> + +<p>"What, not Amen? Eh, eh, you little silly, that is no great matter. +Where is the difficulty? One just ups and answers!" said his father, +gently, but Feivke heard that the while his father was trying to quiet +him, his own voice trembled.</p> + +<p>At the other end of the bridge there appeared the great inn with the +covered terrace, and in front of the building were moving groups of Jews +in holiday garb, with red handkerchiefs in their hands, women in yellow +silk head-kerchiefs, and boys in new clothes holding small prayer-books. +Feivke remained obstinately outside the crowd, and hung about the +stable, his black eyes staring defiantly from beneath the worn-out +leather cap. But he was not left alone long, for soon there came to him +a smart, yellow-haired boy, with restless little light-colored eyes, and +a face like a chicken's, covered with freckles. This little boy took a +little bottle with some essence in it out of his pocket, gave it a twist +and a flourish in the air, and suddenly applied it to Feivke's nose, so +that the strong waters spurted into his nostril. Then he asked:</p> + +<p>"To whom do you belong?"</p> + +<p>Feivke blew the water out of his nose, and turned his head away in +silence.</p> + +<p>"Listen, turkey, lazy dog! What are you doing there? Have you said +Minchah?"</p> + +<p>"N-no...."</p> + +<p>"Is the Jew in a torn cloak there your father?"</p> + +<p>"Y-yes ... T-tate...."</p> + +<p>The yellow-haired boy took Feivke by the sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Come along, and you'll see what they'll do to your father."<a name="page_552" id="page_552"></a></p> + +<p>Inside the room into which Feivke was dragged by his new friend, it was +hot, and there was a curious, unfamiliar sound. Feivke grew dizzy. He +saw Jews bowing and bending along the wall and beating their +breasts—now they said something, and now they wept in an odd way. +People coughed and spat sobbingly, and blew their noses with their red +handkerchiefs. Chairs and stiff benches creaked, while a continual +clatter of plates and spoons came through the wall.</p> + +<p>In a corner, beside a heap of hay, Feivke saw his father where he stood, +looking all round him, blinking shamefacedly and innocently with his +weak, red eyes. Round him was a lively circle of little boys whispering +with one another in evident expectation.</p> + +<p>"That is his boy, with the lip," said the chicken-face, presenting +Feivke.</p> + +<p>At the same moment a young man came up to Mattes. He wore a white collar +without a tie and with a pointed brass stud. This young man held a whip, +which he brandished in the air like a rider about to mount his horse.</p> + +<p>"Well, Reb Smith."</p> + +<p>"Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?" asked Mattes, subserviently, +still smiling round in the same shy and yet confiding manner.</p> + +<p>"Be so good as to lie down."</p> + +<p>The young man gave a mischievous look at the boys, and made a gesture in +the air with the whip.</p> + +<p>Mattes began to unbutton his cloak, and slowly and cautiously let +himself down onto the hay, whereupon the young man applied the whip with +might and main, and his whole face shone.<a name="page_553" id="page_553"></a></p> + +<p>"One, two, three! Go on, Rebbe, go on!" urged the boys, and there were +shouts of laughter.</p> + +<p>Feivke looked on in amaze. He wanted to go and take his father by the +sleeve, make him get up and escape, but just then Mattes raised himself +to a sitting posture, and began to rub his eyes with the same shy smile.</p> + +<p>"Now, Rebbe, this one!" and the yellow-haired boy began to drag Feivke +towards the hay. The others assisted. Feivke got very red, and silently +tried to tear himself out of the boy's hands, making for the door, but +the other kept his hold. In the doorway Feivke glared at him with his +obstinate black eyes, and said:</p> + +<p>"I'll knock your teeth out!"</p> + +<p>"Mine? You? You booby, you lazy thing! This is <i>our</i> house! Do you know, +on New Year's Eve I went with my grandfather to the town! I shall call +Leibrutz. He'll give you something to remember him by!"</p> + +<p>And Leibrutz was not long in joining them. He was the inn driver, a +stout youth of fifteen, in a peasant smock with a collar stitched in +red, otherwise in full array, with linen socks and a handsome bottle of +strong waters against faintness in his hands. To judge by the size of +the bottle, his sturdy looks belied a peculiarly delicate constitution. +He pushed towards Feivke with one shoulder, in no friendly fashion, and +looked at him with one eye, while he winked with the other at the +freckled grandson of the host.</p> + +<p>"Who is the beauty?"<a name="page_554" id="page_554"></a></p> + +<p>"How should I know? A thief most likely. The Kozlov smith's boy. He +threatened to knock out my teeth."</p> + +<p>"So, so, dear brother mine!" sang out Leibrutz, with a cold sneer, and +passed his five fingers across Feivke's nose. "We must rub a little +horseradish under his eyes, and he'll weep like a beaver. Listen, you +Kozlov urchin, you just keep your hands in your pockets, because +Leibrutz is here! Do you know Leibrutz? Lucky for you that I have a +Jewish heart: to-day is Yom Kippur."</p> + +<p>But the chicken-faced boy was not pacified.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a lip? And then he comes to our house and wants +to fight us!"</p> + +<p>The whole lot of boys now encircled Feivke with teasing and laughter, +and he stood barefooted in their midst, looking at none of them, and +reminding one of a little wild animal caught and tormented.</p> + +<p>It grew dark, and quantities of soul-lights were set burning down the +long tables of the inn. The large building was packed with red-faced, +perspiring Jews, in flowing white robes and Tallesim. The Confession was +already in course of fervent recital, there was a great rocking and +swaying over the prayer-books and a loud noise in the ears, everyone +present trying to make himself heard above the rest. Village Jews are +simple and ignorant, they know nothing of "silent prayer" and whispering +with the lips. They are deprived of prayer in common a year at a time, +and are distant from the Lord of All, and when the Awful Day comes, they +want to take Him by storm, by violence. The<a name="page_555" id="page_555"></a> noisiest of all was the +prayer-leader himself, the young man with the white collar and no tie. +He was from town, and wished to convince the country folk that he was an +adept at his profession and to be relied on. Feivke stood in the +stifling room utterly confounded. The prayers and the wailful chanting +passed over his head like waves, his heart was straitened, red sparks +whirled before his eyes. He was in a state of continual apprehension. He +saw a snow-white old Jew come out of a corner with a scroll of the Torah +wrapped in a white velvet, gold-embroidered cover. How the gold sparkled +and twinkled and reflected itself in the illuminated beard of the old +man! Feivke thought the moment had come, but he saw it all as through a +mist, a long way off, to the sound of the wailful chanting, and as in a +mist the scroll and the old man vanished together. Feivke's face and +body were flushed with heat, his knees shook, and at the same time his +hands and feet were cold as ice.</p> + +<p>Once, while Feivke was standing by the table facing the bright flames of +the soul-lights, a dizziness came over him, and he closed his eyes. +Thousands of little bells seemed to ring in his ears. Then some one gave +a loud thump on the table, and there was silence all around. Feivke +started and opened his eyes. The sudden stillness frightened him, and he +wanted to move away from the table, but he was walled in by men in white +robes, who had begun rocking and swaying anew. One of them pushed a +prayer-book towards him, with great black letters, which hopped and +fluttered to Feivke's eyes like so many little black birds.<a name="page_556" id="page_556"></a></p> + +<p>He shook visibly, and the men looked at him in silence: "Nu-nu, nu-nu!" +He remained for some time squeezed against the prayer-book, hemmed in by +the tall, strange men in robes swaying and praying over his head. A cold +perspiration broke out over him, and when at last he freed himself, he +felt very tired and weak. Having found his way to a corner close to his +father, he fell asleep on the floor.</p> + +<p>There he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he was a tree, growing like +any other tree in a wood, and that he saw Anishka coming along with +blood on his face, in one hand his long stick, and in the other a +stone—and Feivke recognized the stone with which he had hit the +crucifix. And Anishka kept turning his head and making signs to some one +with his long stick, calling out to him that here was Feivke. Feivke +looked hard, and there in the depths of the wood was God Himself, white +all over, like freshly-fallen snow. And God suddenly grew ever so tall, +and looked down at Feivke. Feivke felt God looking at him, but he could +not see God, because there was a mist before his eyes. And Anishka came +nearer and nearer with the stone in his hand. Feivke shook, and cold +perspiration oozed out all over him. He wanted to run away, but he +seemed to be growing there like a tree, like all the other trees of the +wood.</p> + +<p>Feivke awoke on the floor, amid sleeping men, and the first thing he saw +was a tall, barefoot person all in white, standing over the sleepers +with something in his hand. This tall, white figure sank slowly onto its +knees, and, bending silently over Mattes the smith,<a name="page_557" id="page_557"></a> who lay snoring +with the rest, it deliberately put a bottle to his nose. Mattes gave a +squeal, and sat up hastily.</p> + +<p>"Ha, who is it?" he asked in alarm.</p> + +<p>It was the young man from town, the prayer-leader, with a bottle of +strong smelling-salts.</p> + +<p>"It is I," he said with a <i>dégagé</i> air, and smiled. "Never mind, it will +do you good! You are fasting, and there is an express law in the Chayyé +Odom on the subject."</p> + +<p>"But why me?" complained Mattes, blinking at him reproachfully. "What +have I done to you?"</p> + +<p>Day was about to dawn. The air in the room had cooled down; the +soul-lights were still playing in the dark, dewy window-panes. A few of +the men bedded in the hay on the floor were waking up. Feivke stood in +the middle of the room with staring eyes. The young man with the +smelling-bottle came up to him with a lively air.</p> + +<p>"O you little object! What are you staring at me for? Do you want a +sniff? There, then, sniff!"</p> + +<p>Feivke retreated into a corner, and continued to stare at him in +bewilderment.</p> + +<p>No sooner was it day, than the davvening recommenced with all the fervor +of the night before, the room was as noisy, and very soon nearly as hot. +But it had not the same effect on Feivke as yesterday, and he was no +longer frightened of Anishka and the stone—the whole dream had +dissolved into thin air. When they once more brought out the scroll of +the Law in its white mantle, Feivke was standing by the table, and<a name="page_558" id="page_558"></a> +looked on indifferently while they uncovered the black, shining, crowded +letters. He looked indifferently at the young man from town swaying over +the Torah, out of which he read fluently, intoning with a strangely free +and easy manner, like an adept to whom all this was nothing new. +Whenever he stopped reading, he threw back his head, and looked down at +the people with a bright, satisfied smile.</p> + +<p>The little boys roamed up and down the room in socks, with +smelling-salts in their hands, or yawned into their little prayer-books. +The air was filled with the dust of the trampled hay. The sun looked in +at a window, and the soul-lights grew dim as in a mist. It seemed to +Feivke he had been at the Minyan a long, long time, and he felt as +though some great misfortune had befallen him. Fear and wonder continued +to oppress him, but not the fear and wonder of yesterday. He was tired, +his body burning, while his feet were contracted with cold. He got away +outside, stretched himself out on the grass behind the inn and dozed, +facing the sun. He dozed there through a good part of the day. Bright +red rivers flowed before his eyes, and they made his brains ache. Some +one, he did not know who, stood over him, and never stopped rocking to +and fro and reciting prayers. Then—it was his father bending over him +with a rather troubled look, and waking him in a strangely gentle voice:</p> + +<p>"Well, Feivke, are you asleep? You've had nothing to eat to-day yet?"</p> + +<p>"No...."<a name="page_559" id="page_559"></a></p> + +<p>Feivke followed his father back into the house on his unsteady feet. +Weary Jews with pale and lengthened noses were resting on the terrace +and the benches. The sun was already low down over the village and +shining full into the inn windows. Feivke stood by one of the windows +with his father, and his head swam from the bright light. Mattes stroked +his chin-beard continually, then there was more davvening and more +rocking while they recited the Eighteen Benedictions. The Benedictions +ended, the young man began to trill, but in a weaker voice and without +charm. He was sick of the whole thing, and kept on in the half-hearted +way with which one does a favor. Mattes forgot to look at his +prayer-book, and, standing in the window, gazed at the tree-tops, which +had caught fire in the rays of the setting sun. Nobody was expecting +anything of him, when he suddenly gave a sob, so loud and so piteous +that all turned and looked at him in astonishment. Some of the people +laughed. The prayer-leader had just intoned "Michael on the right hand +uttereth praise," out of the Afternoon Service. What was there to cry +about in that? All the little boys had assembled round Mattes the smith, +and were choking with laughter, and a certain youth, the host's new +son-in-law, gave a twitch to Mattes' Tallis:</p> + +<p>"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!"</p> + +<p>Mattes answered not a word. The little fellow with the freckles pushed +his way up to him, and imitating the young man's intonation, repeated, +"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!"<a name="page_560" id="page_560"></a></p> + +<p>Feivke looked wildly round at the bystanders, at his father. Then he +suddenly advanced to the freckled boy, and glared at him with his black +eyes.</p> + +<p>"You, you—kob tebi biessi!" he hissed in Little-Russian.</p> + +<p>The laughter and commotion increased; there was an exclamation: "Rascal, +in a holy place!" and another: "Aha! the Kozlover smith's boy must be a +first-class scamp!" The prayer-leader thumped angrily on his +prayer-book, because no one was listening to him.</p> + +<p>Feivke escaped once more behind the inn, but the whole company of boys +followed him, headed by Leibrutz the driver.</p> + +<p>"There he is, the Kozlov lazy booby!" screamed the freckled boy. "Have +you ever heard the like? He actually wanted to fight again, and in our +house! What do you think of that?"</p> + +<p>Leibrutz went up to Feivke at a steady trot and with the gesture of one +who likes to do what has to be done calmly and coolly.</p> + +<p>"Wait, boys! Hands off! We've got a remedy for him here, for which I +hope he will be thankful."</p> + +<p>So saying, he deliberately took hold of Feivke from behind, by his two +arms, and made a sign to the boy with yellow hair.</p> + +<p>"Now for it, Aarontche, give it to the youngster!"</p> + +<p>The little boy immediately whipped the smelling-bottle out of his +pocket, took out the stopper with a flourish, and held it to Feivke's +nose. The next moment Feivke had wrenched himself free, and was making<a name="page_561" id="page_561"></a> +for the chicken-face with nails spread, when he received two smart, +sounding boxes on the ears, from two great, heavy, horny hands, which so +clouded his brain that for a minute he stood dazed and dumb. Suddenly he +made a spring at Leibrutz, fell upon his hand, and fastened his sharp +teeth in the flesh. Leibrutz gave a loud yell.</p> + +<p>There was a great to-do. People came running out in their robes, women +with pale, startled faces called to their children. A few of them +reproved Mattes for his son's behavior. Then they dispersed, till there +remained behind the inn only Mattes and Feivke. Mattes looked at his boy +in silence. He was not a talkative man, and he found only two or three +words to say:</p> + +<p>"Feivke, Mother there at home—and you—here?"</p> + +<p>Again Feivke found himself alone on the field, and again he stretched +himself out and dozed. Again, too, the red streams flowed before his +eyes, and someone unknown to him stood at his head and recited prayers. +Only the streams were thicker and darker, and the davvening over his +head was louder, sadder, more penetrating.</p> + +<p>It was quite dark when Mattes came out again, took Feivke by the hand, +set him on his feet, and said, "Now we are going home."</p> + +<p>Indoors everything had come to an end, and the room had taken on a +week-day look. The candles were gone, and a lamp was burning above the +table, round which sat men in their hats and usual cloaks, no robes to +be seen, and partook of some refreshment. There<a name="page_562" id="page_562"></a> was no more davvening, +but in Feivke's ears was the same ringing of bells. It now seemed to him +that he saw the room and the men for the first time, and the old Jew +sitting at the head of the table, presiding over bottles and +wine-glasses, and clicking with his tongue, could not possibly be the +old man with the silver-white beard who had held the scroll of the Law +to his breast.</p> + +<p>Mattes went up to the table, gave a cough, bowed to the company, and +said, "A good year!"</p> + +<p>The old man raised his head, and thundered so loudly that Feivke's face +twitched as with pain:</p> + +<p>"Ha?"</p> + +<p>"I said—I am just going—going home—home again—so I wish—wish you—a +good year!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, a good year? A good year to you also! Wait, have a little brandy, +ha?"</p> + +<p>Feivke shut his eyes. It made him feel bad to have the lamp burning so +brightly and the old man talking so loud. Why need he speak in such a +high, rasping voice that it went through one's head like a saw?</p> + +<p>"Ha? Is it your little boy who scratched my Aarontche's face? Ha? A +rascal is he? Beat him well! There, give him a little brandy, too—and a +bit of cake! He fasted too, ha? But he can't recite the prayers? Fie! +<i>You</i> ought to be beaten! Ha? Are you going home? Go in health! Ha? Your +wife has just been confined?—Perhaps you need some money for the +holidays? Ha? What do you say?"</p> + +<p>Mattes and Feivke started to walk home. Mattes gave a look at the clear +sky, where the young half-moon<a name="page_563" id="page_563"></a> had floated into view. "Mother will be +expecting us," he said, and began to walk quickly. Feivke could hardly +drag his feet.</p> + +<p>On the tall bridge they were met by a cool breeze blowing from the +water. Once across the bridge, Mattes again quickened his pace. +Presently he stopped to look around—no Feivke! He turned back and saw +Feivke sitting in the middle of the road. The child was huddled up in a +silent, shivering heap. His teeth chattered with cold.</p> + +<p>"Feivke, what is the matter? Why are you sitting down? Come along home!"</p> + +<p>"I won't"—Feivke clattered out with his teeth—"I c-a-n-'t—"</p> + +<p>"Did they hit you so hard, Feivke?"</p> + +<p>Feivke was silent. Then he stretched himself out on the ground, his +hands and feet quivering.</p> + +<p>"Cold—."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you well, Feivke?"</p> + +<p>The child made an effort, sat up, and looked fixedly at his father, with +his black, feverish eyes, and suddenly he asked:</p> + +<p>"Why did you cry there? Tate, why? Tell me, why?!"</p> + +<p>"Where did I cry, you little silly? Why, I just cried—it's Yom Kippur. +Mother is fasting, too—get up, Feivke, and come home. Mother will make +you a poultice," occurred to him as a happy thought.</p> + +<p>"No! Why did you cry, while they were laughing?" Feivke insisted, still +sitting in the road and shaking like a leaf. "One mustn't cry when they +laugh, one mustn't!"<a name="page_564" id="page_564"></a></p> + +<p>And he lay down again on the damp ground.</p> + +<p>"Feivele, come home, my son!"</p> + +<p>Mattes stood over the boy in despair, and looked around for help. From +some way off, from the tall bridge, came a sound of heavy footsteps +growing louder and louder, and presently the moonlight showed the figure +of a peasant.</p> + +<p>"Ai, who is that? Matke the smith? What are you doing there? Are you +casting spells? Who is that lying on the ground?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know myself what I'm doing, kind soul. That is my boy, and he +won't come home, or he can't. What am I to do with him?" complained +Mattes to the peasant, whom he knew.</p> + +<p>"Has he gone crazy? Give him a kick! Ai, you little lazy devil, get up!" +Feivke did not move from the spot, he only shivered silently, and his +teeth chattered.</p> + +<p>"Ach, you devil! What sort of a boy have you there, Matke? A visitation +of Heaven! Why don't you beat him more? The other day they came and told +tales of him—Agapa said that—"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, either, kind soul, what sort of a boy he is," answered +Mattes, and wrung his bands in desperation.</p> + +<p class="top5">Early next morning Mattes hired a conveyance, and drove Feivke to the +town, to the asylum for the sick poor. The smith's wife came out and saw +them start, and she stood a long while in the doorway by the Mezuzeh.<a name="page_565" id="page_565"></a></p> + +<p>And on another fine autumn morning, just when the villagers were +beginning to cart loads of fresh earth to secure the village against +overflowing streams, the village boys told one another the news of +Feivke's death.<a name="page_566" id="page_566"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_LAST_OF_THEM" id="THE_LAST_OF_THEM"></a>THE LAST OF THEM</h3> + +<p>They had been Rabbonim for generations in the Misnagdic community of +Mouravanke, old, poverty-stricken Mouravanke, crowned with hoary honor, +hidden away in the thick woods. Generation on generation of them had +been renowned far and near, wherever a Jewish word was spoken, wherever +the voice of the Torah rang out in the warm old houses-of-study.</p> + +<p>People talked of them everywhere, as they talk of miracles when miracles +are no more, and of consolation when all hope is long since dead—talked +of them as great-grandchildren talk of the riches of their +great-grandfather, the like of which are now unknown, and of the great +seven-branched, old-fashioned lamp, which he left them as an inheritance +of times gone by.</p> + +<p>For as the lustre of an old, seven-branched lamp shining in the +darkness, such was the lustre of the family of the Rabbonim of +Mouravanke.</p> + +<p>That was long ago, ever so long ago, when Mouravanke lay buried in the +dark Lithuanian forests. The old, low, moss-grown houses were still set +in wide, green gardens, wherein grew beet-root and onions, while the hop +twined itself and clustered thickly along the wooden fencing. Well-to-do +Jews still went about in linen pelisses, and smoked pipes filled with +dry herbs. People got a living out of the woods, where they burnt pitch +the whole week through, and Jewish families ate rye-bread and +groats-pottage.<a name="page_567" id="page_567"></a></p> + +<p>A new baby brought no anxiety along with it. People praised God, carried +the pitcher to the well, filled it, and poured a quart of water into the +pottage. The newcomer was one of God's creatures, and was assured of his +portion along with the others.</p> + +<p>And if a Jew had a marriageable daughter, and could not afford a dowry, +he took a stick in his hand, donned a white shirt with a broad mangled +collar, repeated the "Prayer of the Highway," and set off on foot to +Volhynia, that thrice-blessed wonderland, where people talk with a +"Chirik," and eat Challeh with saffron even in the middle of the +week—with saffron, if not with honey.</p> + +<p>There, in Volhynia, on Friday evenings, the rich Jewish householder of +the district walks to and fro leisurely in his brightly lit room. In all +likelihood, he is a short, plump, hairy man, with a broad, fair beard, a +gathered silk sash round his substantial figure, a cheery singsong +"Sholom-Alechem" on his mincing, "chiriky" tongue, and a merry crack of +the thumb. The Lithuanian guest, teacher or preacher, the shrunk and +shrivelled stranger with the piercing black eyes, sits in a corner, +merely moving his lips and gazing at the floor—perhaps because he feels +ill at ease in the bright, nicely-furnished room; perhaps because he is +thinking of his distant home, of his wife and children and his +marriageable daughter; and perhaps because it has suddenly all become +oddly dear to him, his poor, forsaken native place, with its moiling, +poverty-struck Jews, whose week is spent pitch-burning in the forest; +with its old, warm houses-of-study; with its celebrated giants of the +Torah,<a name="page_568" id="page_568"></a> bending with a candle in their hand over the great hoary +Gemorehs.</p> + +<p>And here, at table, between the tasty stuffed fish and the soup, with +the rich Volhynian "stuffed monkeys," the brusque, tongue-tied guest is +suddenly unable to contain himself, and overflows with talk about his +corner in Lithuania.</p> + +<p>"Whether we have our Rabbis at home?! N-nu!!"</p> + +<p>And thereupon he holds forth grandiloquently, with an ardor and +incisiveness born of the love and the longing at his heart. The piercing +black eyes shoot sparks, as the guest tells of the great men of +Mouravanke, with their fiery intellects, their iron perseverance, who +sit over their books by day and by night. From time to time they take an +hour and a half's doze, falling with their head onto their fists, their +beards sweeping the Gemoreh, the big candle keeping watch overhead and +waking them once more to the study of the Torah.</p> + +<p>At dawn, when the people begin to come in for the Morning Prayer, they +walk round them on tiptoe, giving them their four-ells' distance, and +avoid meeting their look, which is apt to be sharp and burning.</p> + +<p>"That is the way we study in Lithuania!"</p> + +<p>The stout, hairy householder, good-natured and credulous, listens +attentively to the wonderful tales, loosens the sash over his pelisse in +leisurely fashion, unbuttons his waistcoat across his generous waist, +blows out his cheeks, and sways his head from side to side, because—one +may believe anything of the Lithuanians!<a name="page_569" id="page_569"></a></p> + +<p>Then, if once in a long, long while the rich Volhynian householder +stumbled, by some miracle or other, into Lithuania, sheer curiosity +would drive him to take a look at the Lithuanian celebrity. But he would +stand before him in trembling and astonishment, as one stands before a +high granite rock, the summit of which can barely be discerned. Is he +terrified by the dark and bushy brows, the keen, penetrating looks, the +deep, stern wrinkles in the forehead that might have been carved in +stone, they are so stiffly fixed? Who can say? Or is he put out of +countenance by the cold, hard assertiveness of their speech, which bores +into the conscience like a gimlet, and knows of no mercy?—for from +between those wrinkles, from beneath those dark brows, shines out the +everlasting glory of the Shechinah.</p> + +<p>Such were the celebrated Rabbonim of Mouravanke.</p> + +<p>They were an old family, a long chain of great men, generation on +generation of tall, well-built, large-boned Jews, all far on in years, +with thick, curly beards. It was very seldom one of these beards showed +a silver hair. They were stern, silent men, who heard and saw +everything, but who expressed themselves mostly by means of their +wrinkles and their eyebrows rather than in words, so that when a +Mouravanke Rav went so far as to say "N-nu," that was enough.</p> + +<p>The dignity of Rav was hereditary among them, descending from father to +son, and, together with the Rabbinical position and the eighteen gulden +a week salary, the son inherited from his father a tall, old +reading-desk, smoked and scorched by the candles, in the old<a name="page_570" id="page_570"></a> +house-of-study in the corner by the ark, and a thick, heavy-knotted +stick, and an old holiday pelisse of lustrine, the which, if worn on a +bright Sabbath-day in summer-time, shines in the sun, and fairly shouts +to be looked at.</p> + +<p>They arrived in Mouravanke generations ago, when the town was still in +the power of wild highwaymen, called there "Hydemakyes," with huge, +terrifying whiskers and large, savage dogs. One day, on Hoshanah Rabbah, +early in the morning, there entered the house-of-study a tall youth, +evidently village-born and from a long way off, barefoot, with turned-up +trousers, his boots slung on a big, knotted stick across his shoulders, +and a great bundle of big Hoshanos. The youth stood in the centre of the +house-of-study with his mouth open, bewildered, and the boys quickly +snatched his willow branches from him. He was surrounded, stared at, +questioned as to who he was, whence he came, what he wanted. Had he +parents? Was he married? For some time the youth stood silent, with +downcast eyes, then he bethought himself, and answered in three words: +"I want to study!"</p> + +<p>And from that moment he remained in the old building, and people began +to tell wonderful tales of his power of perseverance—of how a tall, +barefoot youth, who came walking from a far distance, had by dint of +determination come to be reckoned among the great men in Israel; of how, +on a winter midnight, he would open the stove doors, and study by the +light of the glowing coals; of how he once forgot food and drink for +three days and three nights running, while he stood<a name="page_571" id="page_571"></a> over a difficult +legal problem with wrinkled brows, his eyes piercing the page, his +fingers stiffening round the handle of his stick, and he motionless; and +when suddenly he found the solution, he gave a shout "Nu!" and came down +so hard on the desk with his stick that the whole house-of-study shook. +It happened just when the people were standing quite quiet, repeating +the Eighteen Benedictions.</p> + +<p>Then it was told how this same lad became Rav in Mouravanke, how his +genius descended to his children and children's children, till late in +the generations, gathering in might with each generation in turn. They +rose, these giants, one after the other, persistent investigators of the +Law, with high, wrinkled foreheads, dark, bushy brows, a hard, cutting +glance, sharp as steel.</p> + +<p>In those days Mouravanke was illuminated as with seven suns. The +houses-of-study were filled with students; voices, young and old, rang +out over the Gemorehs, sang, wept, and implored. Worried and +tired-looking fathers and uncles would come into the Shools with +blackened faces after the day's pitch-burning, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, range themselves in leisurely mood by the doors and the +stove, cock their ears, and listen, Jewish drivers, who convey people +from one town to another, snatched a minute the first thing in the +morning, and dropped in with their whips under their arms, to hear a +passage in the Gemoreh expounded. And the women, who washed the linen at +the pump in summer-time, beat the wet clothes to the melody of the Torah +that came floating into the street through the open windows, sweet as a +long-expected piece of good news.<a name="page_572" id="page_572"></a></p> + +<p>Thus Mouravanke came to be of great renown, because the wondrous power +of the Mouravanke Rabbonim, the power of concentration of thought, grew +from generation to generation. And in those days the old people went +about with a secret whispering, that if there should arise a tenth +generation of the mighty ones, a new thing, please God, would come to +pass among Jews.</p> + +<p>But there was no tenth generation; the ninth of the Mouravanke Rabbonim +was the last of them.</p> + +<p>He had two sons, but there was no luck in the house in his day: the sons +philosophized too much, asked too many questions, took strange paths +that led them far away.</p> + +<p>Once a rumor spread in Mouravanke that the Rav's eldest son had become +celebrated in the great world because of a book he had written, and had +acquired the title of "professor." When the old Rav was told of it, he +at first remained silent, with downcast eyes. Then he lifted them and +ejaculated:</p> + +<p>"Nu!"</p> + +<p>And not a word more. It was only remarked that he grew paler, that his +look was even more piercing, more searching than before. This is all +that was ever said in the town about the Rav's children, for no one +cared to discuss a thing on which the old Rav himself was silent.</p> + +<p>Once, however, on the Great Sabbath, something happened in the spacious +old house-of-study. The Rav was standing by the ark, wrapped in his +Tallis, and expounding to a crowded congregation. He had a clear, +resonant, deep voice, and when he sent it thundering<a name="page_573" id="page_573"></a> over the heads of +his people, the air seemed to catch fire, and they listened dumbfounded +and spellbound.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the old man stopped in the midst of his exposition, and was +silent. The congregation thrilled with speechless expectation. For a +minute or two the Rav stood with his piercing gaze fixed on the people, +then he deliberately pulled aside the curtain before the ark, opened the +ark doors, and turned to the congregation:</p> + +<p>"Listen, Jews! I know that many of you are thinking of something that +has just occurred to me, too. You wonder how it is that I should set +myself up to expound the Torah to a townful of Jews, when my own +children have cast the Torah behind them. Therefore I now open the ark +and declare to you, Jews, before the holy scrolls of the Law, I have no +children any more. I am the last Rav of our family!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon a piteous wail came from out of the women's Shool, but the +Rav's sonorous voice soon reduced them to silence, and once more the +Torah was being expounded in thunder over the heads of the open-mouthed +assembly.</p> + +<p>Years, a whole decade of them, passed, and still the old Rav walked +erect, and not one silver hair showed in his curly beard, and the town +was still used to see him before daylight, a tall, solitary figure +carrying a stick and a lantern, on his way to the large old Bes +ha-Midrash, to study there in solitude—until Mouravanke began to ring +with the fame of her Charif, her great new scholar.<a name="page_574" id="page_574"></a></p> + +<p>He was the son of a poor tailor, a pale, thin youth, with a pointed nose +and two sharp, black eyes, who had gone away at thirteen or so to study +in celebrated, distant academies, whence his name had spread round and +about. People said of him, that he was growing up to be a Light of the +Exile, that with his scholastic achievements he would outwit the acutest +intellects of all past ages; they said that he possessed a brain power +that ground "mountains" of Talmud to powder. News came that a quantity +of prominent Jewish communities had sent messengers, to ask him to come +and be their Rav.</p> + +<p>Mouravanke was stirred to its depths. The householders went about +greatly perturbed, because their Rav was an old man, his days were +numbered, and he had no children to take his place.</p> + +<p>So they came to the old Rav in his house, to ask his advice, whether it +was possible to invite the Mouravanke Charif, the tailor's son, to come +to them, so that he might take the place of the Rav on his death, in a +hundred and twenty years—seeing that the said young Charif was a +scholar distinguished by the acuteness of his intellect the only man +worthy of sitting in the seat of the Mouravanke Rabbonim.</p> + +<p>The old Rav listened to the householders with lowering brows, and never +raised his eyes, and he answered them one word:</p> + +<p>"Nu!"</p> + +<p>So Mouravanke sent a messenger to the young Charif, offering him the +Rabbinate. The messenger was swift, and soon the news spread through the +town that the Charif was approaching.<a name="page_575" id="page_575"></a></p> + +<p>When it was time for the householders to go forth out of the town, to +meet the young Charif, the old Rav offered to go with them, and they +took a chair for him to sit in while he waited at the meeting-place. +This was by the wood outside the town, where all through the week the +Jewish townsfolk earned their bread by burning pitch. Begrimed and +toil-worn Jews were continually dropping their work and peeping out +shamefacedly between the tree-stems.</p> + +<p>It was Friday, a clear day in the autumn. She appeared out of a great +cloud of dust—she, the travelling-wagon in which sat the celebrated +young Charif. Sholom-Alechems flew to meet him from every side, and his +old father, the tailor, leant back against a tree, and wept aloud for +joy.</p> + +<p>Now the old Rav declared that he would not allow the Charif to enter the +town till he had heard him, the Charif, expound a portion of the Torah.</p> + +<p>The young man accepted the condition. Men, women, and little children +stood expectant, all eyes were fastened on the tailor's son, all hearts +beat rapidly.</p> + +<p>The Charif expounded the Torah standing in the wagon. At first he looked +fairly scared, and his sharp black eyes darted fearfully hither and +thither over the heads of the silent crowd. Then came a bright idea, and +lit up his face. He began to speak, but his was not the familiar +teaching, such as everyone learns and understands. His words were like +fiery flashes appearing and disappearing one after the other, lightnings +that traverse and illumine half the sky in one second of time, a play of +swords in which there are no words, only the clink and ring of +finely-tempered steel.<a name="page_576" id="page_576"></a></p> + +<p>The old Rav sat in his chair leaning on his old, knobbly, knotted stick, +and listened. He heard, but evil thoughts beset him, and deep, hard +wrinkles cut themselves into his forehead. He saw before him the Charif, +the dried-up youth with the sharp eyes and the sharp, pointed nose, and +the evil thought came to him, "Those are needles, a tailor's needles," +while the long, thin forefinger with which the Charif pointed rapidly in +the air seemed a third needle wielded by a tailor in a hurry.</p> + +<p>"You prick more sharply even than your father," is what the old Rav +wanted to say when the Charif ended his sermon, but he did not say it. +The whole assembly was gazing with caught breath at his half-closed +eyelids. The lids never moved, and some thought wonderingly that he had +fallen into a doze from sheer old age.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a strange, dry snap broke the stillness, the old Rav started in +his chair, and when they rushed forward to assist him, they found that +his knotted, knobbly stick had broken in two.</p> + +<p>Pale and bent for the first time, but a tall figure still, the old Rav +stood up among his startled flock. He made a leisurely motion with his +hand in the direction of the town, and remarked quietly to the young +Charif:</p> + +<p>"Nu, now you can go into the town!"</p> + +<p>That Friday night the old Rav came into the house-of-study without his +satin cloak, like a mourner. The congregation saw him lead the young Rav +into the corner near the ark, where he sat him down by the high old +desk, saying:<a name="page_577" id="page_577"></a></p> + +<p>"You will sit here."</p> + +<p>He himself went and sat down behind the pulpit among the strangers, the +Sabbath guests.</p> + +<p>For the first minute people were lost in astonishment; the next minute +the house-of-study was filled with wailing. Old and young lifted their +voices in lamentation. The young Rav looked like a child sitting behind +the tall desk, and he shivered and shook as though with fever.</p> + +<p>Then the old Rav stood up to his full height and commanded:</p> + +<p>"People are not to weep!"</p> + +<p>All this happened about the Solemn Days. Mouravanke remembers that time +now, and speaks of it at dusk, when the sky is red as though streaming +with fire, and the men stand about pensive and forlorn, and the women +fold their babies closer in their aprons.</p> + +<p>At the close of the Day of Atonement there was a report that the old Rav +had breathed his last in robe and prayer-scarf.</p> + +<p>The young Charif did not survive him long. He died at his father's the +tailor, and his funeral was on a wet Great Hosannah day. Aged folk said +he had been summoned to face the old Rav in a lawsuit in the Heavenly +Court.</p> + +<p><a name="page_578" id="page_578"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_579" id="page_579"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="A_FOLK_TALE" id="A_FOLK_TALE"></a>A FOLK TALE</h3> + +<p><a name="page_580" id="page_580"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_581" id="page_581"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="THE_CLEVER_RABBI" id="THE_CLEVER_RABBI"></a>THE CLEVER RABBI</h3> + +<p>The power of man's imagination, said my Grandmother, is very great. +Hereby hangs a tale, which, to our sorrow, is a true one, and as clear +as daylight.</p> + +<p>Listen attentively, my dear child, it will interest you very much.</p> + +<p>Not far from this town of ours lived an old Count, who believed that +Jews require blood at Passover, Christian blood, too, for their Passover +cakes.</p> + +<p>The Count, in his brandy distillery, had a Jewish overseer, a very +honest, respectable fellow.</p> + +<p>The Count loved him for his honesty, and was very kind to him, and the +Jew, although he was a simple man and no scholar, was well-disposed, and +served the Count with heart and soul. He would have gone through fire +and water at the Count's bidding, for it is in the nature of a Jew to be +faithful and to love good men.</p> + +<p>The Count often discussed business matters with him, and took pleasure +in hearing about the customs and observances of the Jews.</p> + +<p>One day the Count said to him, "Tell me the truth, do you love me with +your whole heart?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the Jew, "I love you as myself."</p> + +<p>"Not true!" said the Count. "I shall prove to you that you hate me even +unto death."</p> + +<p>"Hold!" cried the Jew. "Why does my lord say such terrible things?"</p> + +<p>The Count smiled and answered: "Let me tell you! I know quite well that +Jews must have Christian blood for<a name="page_582" id="page_582"></a> their Passover feast. Now, what +would you do if I were the only Christian you could find? You would have +to kill me, because the Rabbis have said so. Indeed, I can scarcely hold +you to blame, since, according to your false notions, the Divine command +is precious, even when it tells us to commit murder. I should be no more +to you than was Isaac to Abraham, when, at God's command, Abraham was +about to slay his only son. Know, however, that the God of Abraham is a +God of mercy and lovingkindness, while the God the Rabbis have created +is full of hatred towards Christians. How, then, can you say that you +love me?"</p> + +<p>The Jew clapped his hands to his head, he tore his hair in his distress +and felt no pain, and with a broken heart he answered the Count, and +said: "How long will you Christians suffer this stain on your pure +hearts? How long will you disgrace yourselves? Does not my lord know +that this is a great lie? I, as a believing Jew, and many besides me, as +believing Jews—we ourselves, I say, with our own hands, grind the corn, +we keep the flour from getting damp or wet with anything, for if only a +little dew drop onto it, it is prohibited for us as though it had yeast.</p> + +<p>"Till the day on which the cakes are baked, we keep the flour as the +apple of our eye. And when the flour is baked, and we are eating the +cakes, even then we are not sure of swallowing it, because if our gums +should begin to bleed, we have to spit the piece out. And in face of all +these stringent regulations against eating the blood of even beasts and +birds, some people say that Jews require human blood for their Passover +cakes,<a name="page_583" id="page_583"></a> and swear to it as a fact! What does my lord suppose we are +likely to think of such people? We know that they swear falsely—and a +false oath is of all things the worst."</p> + +<p>The Count was touched to the heart by these words, and these two men, +being both upright and without guile, believed one the other.</p> + +<p>The Count believed the Jew, that is, he believed that the Jew did not +know the truth of the matter, because he was poor and untaught, while +the Rabbis all the time most certainly used blood at Passover, only they +kept it a secret from the people. And he said as much to the Jew, who, +in his turn, believed the Count, because he knew him to be an honorable +man. And so it was that he began to have his doubts, and when the Count, +on different occasions, repeated the same words, the Jew said to +himself, that perhaps after all it was partly true, that there must be +something in it—the Count would never tell him a lie!</p> + +<p>And he carried the thought about with him for some time.</p> + +<p>The Jew found increasing favor in his master's eyes. The Count lent him +money to trade with, and God prospered the Jew in everything he +undertook. Thanks to the Count, he grew rich.</p> + +<p>The Jew had a kind heart, and was much given to good works, as is the +way with Jews.</p> + +<p>He was very charitable, and succored all the poor in the neighboring +town. And he assisted the Rabbis and the pious in all the places round +about, and earned<a name="page_584" id="page_584"></a> for himself a great and beautiful name, for he was +known to all as "the benefactor."</p> + +<p>The Rabbis gave him the honor due to a pious and influential Jew, who is +a wealthy man and charitable into the bargain.</p> + +<p>But the Jew was thinking:</p> + +<p>"Now the Rabbis will let me into the secret which is theirs, and which +they share with those only who are at once pious and rich, that great +and pious Jews must have blood for Passover."</p> + +<p>For a long time he lived in hope, but the Rabbis told him nothing, the +subject was not once mentioned. But the Jew felt sure that the Count +would never have lied to him, and he gave more liberally than before, +thinking, "Perhaps after all it was too little."</p> + +<p>He assisted the Rabbi of the nearest town for a whole year, so that the +Rabbi opened his eyes in astonishment. He gave him more than half of +what is sufficient for a livelihood.</p> + +<p>When it was near Passover, the Jew drove into the little town to visit +the Rabbi, who received him with open arms, and gave him honor as unto +the most powerful and wealthy benefactor. And all the representative men +of the community paid him their respects.</p> + +<p>Thought the Jew, "Now they will tell me of the commandment which it is +not given to every Jew to observe."</p> + +<p>As the Rabbi, however, told him nothing, the Jew remained, to remind the +Rabbi, as it were, of his duty.</p> + +<p>"Rabbi," said the Jew, "I have something very particular to say to you! +Let us go into a room where we two shall be alone."<a name="page_585" id="page_585"></a></p> + +<p>So the Rabbi went with him into an empty room, shut the door, and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear friend, what is your wish? Do not be abashed, but speak freely, +and tell me what I can do for you."</p> + +<p>"Dear Rabbi, I am, you must know, already acquainted with the fact that +Jews require blood at Passover. I know also that it is a secret +belonging only to the Rabbis, to very pious Jews, and to the wealthy who +give much alms. And I, who am, as you know, a very charitable and good +Jew, wish also to comply, if only once in my life, with this great +observance.</p> + +<p>"You need not be alarmed, dear Rabbi! I will never betray the secret, +but will make you happy forever, if you will enable me to fulfil so +great a command.</p> + +<p>"If, however, you deny its existence, and declare that Jews do not +require blood, from that moment I become your bitter enemy.</p> + +<p>"And why should I be treated worse than any other pious Jew? I, too, +want to try to perform the great commandment which God gave in secret. I +am not learned in the Law, but a great and wealthy Jew, and one given to +good works, that am I in very truth!"</p> + +<p>You can fancy—said my Grandmother—the Rabbi's horror on hearing such +words from a Jew, a simple countryman. They pierced him to the quick, +like sharp arrows.</p> + +<p>He saw that the Jew believed in all sincerity that his coreligionists +used blood at Passover.</p> + +<p>How was he to uproot out of such a simple heart the weeds sown there by +evil men?<a name="page_586" id="page_586"></a></p> + +<p>The Rabbi saw that words would just then be useless.</p> + +<p>A beautiful thought came to him, and he said: "So be it, dear friend! +Come into the synagogue to-morrow at this time, and I will grant your +request. But till then you must fast, and you must not sleep all night, +but watch in prayer, for this is a very grave and dreadful thing."</p> + +<p>The Jew went away full of gladness, and did as the Rabbi had told him. +Next day, at the appointed time, he came again, wan with hunger and lack +of sleep.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi took the key of the synagogue, and they went in there +together. In the synagogue all was quiet.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi put on a prayer-scarf and a robe, lighted some black candles, +threw off his shoes, took the Jew by the hand, and led him up to the +ark.</p> + +<p>The Rabbi opened the ark, took out a scroll of the Law, and said:</p> + +<p>"You know that for us Jews the scroll of the Law is the most sacred of +all things, and that the list of denunciations occurs in it twice.</p> + +<p>"I swear to you by the scroll of the Law: If any Jew, whosoever he be, +requires blood at Passover, may all the curses contained in the two +lists of denunciations be on my head, and on the head of my whole +family!"</p> + +<p>The Jew was greatly startled.</p> + +<p>He knew that the Rabbi had never before sworn an oath, and now, for his +sake, he had sworn an oath so dreadful!</p> + +<p>The Jew wept much, and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear Rabbi, I have sinned before God and before you. I pray you, pardon +me and give me a hard penance,<a name="page_587" id="page_587"></a> as hard as you please. I will perform it +willingly, and may God forgive me likewise!"</p> + +<p>The Rabbi comforted him, and told no one what had happened, he only told +a few very near relations, just to show them how people can be talked +into believing the greatest foolishness and the most wicked lies.</p> + +<p>May God—said my Grandmother—open the eyes of all who accuse us +falsely, that they may see how useless it is to trump up against us +things that never were seen or heard.</p> + +<p>Jews will be Jews while the world lasts, and they will become, through +suffering, better Jews with more Jewish hearts.</p> + +<p><a name="page_588" id="page_588"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_589" id="page_589"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="GLOSSARY_AND_NOTES" id="GLOSSARY_AND_NOTES"></a>GLOSSARY AND NOTES</h3> + +<p>[Abbreviations: Dimin. = diminutive; Ger. = German, corrupt German, and +Yiddish; Heb. = Hebrew, and Aramaic; pl. = plural; Russ. = Russian; +Slav. = Slavic; trl. = translation.</p> + +<p>Pronunciation: The transliteration of the Hebrew words attempts to +reproduce the colloquial "German" (Ashkenazic) pronunciation. <i>Ch</i> is +pronounced as in the German <i>Dach</i>.]</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Additional Service.</span> <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Eighteen Benedictions</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Al-Chet</span> (Heb.). "For the sin"; the first two words of each line of an +Atonement Day prayer, at every mention of which the worshipper beats the +left side of his breast with his right fist.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Alef-Bes</span> (Heb.). The Hebrew alphabet.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Ashré</span> (Heb.). The first word of a Psalm verse used repeatedly in the +liturgy.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Äus Klemenke!</span> (Ger.). Klemenke is done for!</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Azoi</span> (= Ger. also). That's the way it is!</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Badchen</span> (Heb.). A wedding minstrel, whose quips often convey a moral +lesson to the bridal couple, each of whom he addresses separately.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Bar-Mitzveh</span> (Heb.). A boy of thirteen, the age of religious majority.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Bas-Kol</span> (Heb.). "The Daughter of the Voice"; an echo; a voice from +Heaven.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Beigel</span> (Ger.). Ring-shaped roll.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Bes ha-Midrash</span> (Heb.). House-of-study, used for prayers, too.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Bittul-Torah</span> (Heb.). Interference with religious study.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Bobbe</span> (Slav.). Grandmother; midwife.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Borshtsh</span> (Russ.). Sour soup made of beet-root.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Cantonist</span> (Ger.). Jewish soldier under Czar Nicholas I, torn from his +parents as a child, and forcibly estranged from Judaism.<a name="page_590" id="page_590"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Challeh</span> (Heb.). Loaves of bread prepared for the Sabbath, over which the +blessing is said; always made of wheat flour, and sometimes yellowed +with saffron.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Charif</span> (Heb.). A Talmudic scholar and dialectician.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Chassidim</span> (sing. Chossid) (Heb.). "Pious ones"; followers of Israel Baal +Shem, who opposed the sophisticated intellectualism of the Talmudists, +and laid stress on emotionalism in prayer and in the performance of +other religious ceremonies. The Chassidic leader is called Tzaddik +("righteous one"), or Rebbe. <i>See</i> art. "Hasidim," in the Jewish +Encyclopedia, vol. vi.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Chayyé Odom.</span> A manual of religious practice used extensively by the +common people.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Cheder</span> (pl. Chedorim) (Heb.). Jewish primary school.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Chillul ha-Shem</span> (Heb.). "Desecration of the Holy Name"; hence, scandal.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Chirik</span> (Heb.). Name of the vowel "i"; in Volhynia "u" is pronounced like +"i."</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Davvening</span>. Saying prayers.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Dayan</span> (pl. Dayonim) (Heb.). Authority on Jewish religious law, usually +assistant to the Rabbi of a town.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Din Torah</span> (Heb.). Lawsuit.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Dreier, Dreierlech</span> (Ger.). A small coin.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Eighteen Benedictions.</span> The nucleus of each of the three daily services, +morning, afternoon, evening, and of the "Additional Service" inserted on +Sabbaths, festivals, and the Holy Days, between the morning and +afternoon services. Though the number of benedictions is actually +nineteen, and at some of the services is reduced to seven, the technical +designation remains "Eighteen Benedictions." They are usually said as a +"silent prayer" by the congregation, and then recited aloud by the +cantor, or precentor.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Eretz Yisroel</span> (Heb.). Palestine.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Erev</span> (Heb.). Eve.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Eruv</span> (Heb.). A cord, etc., stretched round a town, to mark the limit +beyond which no "burden" may be carried on the Sabbath.<a name="page_591" id="page_591"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Fast of Esther.</span> A fast day preceding Purim, the Feast of Esther.</p> + +<p class="hangene">"<span class="smcap">Fountain of Jacob.</span>" A collection of all the legends, tales, apologues, +parables, etc., in the Babylonian Talmud.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Four-Corners</span> (trl. of Arba Kanfos). A fringed garment worn under the +ordinary clothes; called also Tallis-koton. <i>See</i> Deut. xxii. 12.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Four Ells.</span> Minimum space required by a human being.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Four Questions.</span> Put by the youngest child to his father at the Seder.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Ganze Goyim</span> (Ger. and Heb.). Wholly estranged from Jewish life and +customs. <i>See</i> Goi.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gass</span> (Ger.). The Jews' street.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gehenna</span> (Heb.). The nether world; hell.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gemoreh</span> (Heb.). The Talmud, the Rabbinical discussion and elaboration of +the Mishnah; a Talmud folio. It is usually read with a peculiar singsong +chant, and the reading of argumentative passages is accompanied by a +gesture with the thumb. <i>See, for instance</i>, pp. <a href="#page_017">17</a> and <a href="#page_338">338</a>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gemoreh-Köplech</span> (Heb. and Ger.). A subtle, keen mind; precocious.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gevir</span> (Heb.). An influential, rich man.—<span class="smcap">Gevirish</span>, appertaining to a +Gevir.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Goi</span> (pl. Goyim) (Heb.). A Gentile; a Jew estranged from Jewish life and +customs.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Gottinyu</span> (Ger. with Slav. ending). Dear God.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Great Sabbath, The.</span> The Sabbath preceding Passover.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Haggadah</span> (Heb.). The story of the Exodus recited at the home service on +the first two evenings of Passover.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Hoshanah</span> (pl. Hoshanos) (Heb.). Osier withe for the Great Hosannah.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Hoshanah-Rabbah</span> (Heb.). The seventh day of the Feast of Tabernacles; the +Great Hosannah.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Hostre Chassidim.</span> Followers of the Rebbe or Tzaddik who lived at +Hostre.<a name="page_592" id="page_592"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kaddish</span> (Heb.). Sanctification, or doxology, recited by mourners, +specifically by children in memory of parents during the first eleven +months after their death, and thereafter on every anniversary of the day +of their death; applied to an only son, on whom will devolve the duty of +reciting the prayer on the death of his parents; sometimes applied to +the oldest son, and to sons in general.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kalleh</span> (Heb.) Bride.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kalleh-leben</span> (Heb. and Ger.). Dear bride.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kallehshi</span> (Heb. and Russ. dimin.). Dear bride.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kasha</span> (Slav.). Pap.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kedushah</span> (Heb.). Sanctification; the central part of the public service, +of which the "Holy, holy, holy," forms a sentence.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kerbel</span>, <span class="smcap">Kerblech</span> (Ger.). A ruble.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kiddush</span> (Heb.). Sanctification; blessing recited over wine in ushering +in Sabbaths and holidays.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Klaus</span> (Ger.). "Hermitage"; a conventicle; a house-of-study.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kob tebi biessi</span> (Little Russ.) "Demons take you!"</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kol Nidré</span> (Heb.). The first prayer recited at the synagogue on the Eve +of the Day of Atonement.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kosher</span> (Heb.). Ritually clean or permitted.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Kosher-Tanz</span> (Heb. and Ger.). Bride's dance.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Köst</span> (Ger.). Board.—<span class="smcap">Auf Köst</span>. Free board and lodging given to a man and +his wife by the latter's parents during the early years of his married +life.</p> + +<p class="hangene">"<span class="smcap">Learn.</span>" Studying the Talmud, the codes, and the commentaries.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Le-Chayyim</span> (Heb.). Here's to long life!</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Lehavdil</span> (Heb.). "To distinguish." Elliptical for "to distinguish +between the holy and the secular"; equivalent to "excuse the +comparison"; "pardon me for mentioning the two things in the same +breath," etc.<a name="page_593" id="page_593"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Likkute Zevi</span> (Heb.). A collection of prayers.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Lokshen.</span> Macaroni.—<span class="smcap">Toras-Lokshen</span>, macaroni made in approved style.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Maariv</span> (Heb.). The Evening Prayer, or service.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Maggid</span> (Heb.). Preacher.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Maharsho</span> (<span class="smcap">MaHaRSHO</span>). Hebrew initial letters of Morenu ha-Rab Shemuel +Edels, a great commentator.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Malkes</span> (Heb.). Stripes inflicted on the Eve of the Day of Atonement, in +expiation of sins. <i>See</i> Deut. xxv. 2, 3.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Maskil</span> (pl. Maskilim) (Heb.). An "intellectual." The aim of the +"intellectuals" was the spread of modern general education among the +Jews, especially in Eastern Europe. They were reproached with +secularizing Hebrew and disregarding the ceremonial law.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Matzes</span> (Heb.). The unleavened bread used during Passover.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mechuteneste</span> (Heb.). Mother-in-law; prospective mother-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mechutton</span> (Heb.). Father-in-law; prospective father-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mehereh</span> (Heb.). The "quick" dough for the Matzes.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Melammed</span> (Heb.). Teacher.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mezuzeh</span> (Heb.). "Door-post;" Scripture verses attached to the door-posts +of Jewish houses. <i>See</i> Deut. vi. 9.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Midrash</span> (Heb.). Homiletic exposition of the Scriptures.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Minchah</span> (Heb.). The Afternoon Prayer, or service.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Min ha-Mezar</span> (Heb.). "Out of the depth," Ps. 118. 5.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Minyan</span> (Heb.). A company of ten men, the minimum for a public service; +specifically, a temporary congregation, gathered together, usually in a +village, from several neighboring Jewish settlements, for services on +New Year and the Day of Atonement.<a name="page_594" id="page_594"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mishnah</span> (Heb.). The earliest code (ab. 200 C. E.) after the Pentateuch, +portions of which are studied, during the early days of mourning, in +honor of the dead.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Misnaggid</span> (pl. Misnagdim) (Heb.). "Opponents" of the Chassidim. The +Misnagdic communities are led by a Rabbi (pl. Rabbonim), sometimes +called Rav.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Mitzveh</span> (Heb.). A commandment, a duty, the doing of which is +meritorious.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Nashers</span> (Ger.). Gourmets.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Nishkoshe</span> (Ger. and Heb.). Never mind!</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Nissan</span> (Heb.). Spring month (March-April), in which Passover is +celebrated.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Olenu</span> (Heb.). The concluding prayer in the synagogue service.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Olom ha-Sheker</span> (Heb.). "The world of falsehood," this world.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Olom ha-Tohu</span> (Heb.). World of chaos.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Olom ho-Emess</span> (Heb.). "The world of truth," the world-to-come.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Parnosseh</span> (Heb.). Means of livelihood; business; sustenance.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Piyyutim</span> (Heb.). Liturgical poems for festivals and Holy Days recited in +the synagogue.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Porush</span> (Heb.). Recluse.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Prayer of the Highway.</span> Prayer on setting out on a journey.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Prayer-scarf.</span> <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Tallis</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Pud</span> (Russ.). Forty pounds.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Purim</span> (Heb.). The Feast of Esther.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Rashi</span> (<span class="smcap">RaSHI</span>). Hebrew initial letters of Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac, a +great commentator; applied to a certain form of script and type.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Rav</span> (Heb.). Rabbi.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Rebbe.</span> Sometimes used for Rabbi; sometimes equivalent to Mr.; sometimes +applied to the Tzaddik of the Chassidim; and sometimes used as the title +of a teacher of young children.<a name="page_595" id="page_595"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Rebbetzin.</span> Wife of a Rabbi.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Rosh-Yeshiveh</span> (Rosh ha-Yeshiveh) (Heb.). Headmaster of a Talmudic +Academy.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Scape-fowls</span> (trl. of Kapporos). Roosters or hens used in a ceremony on +the Eve of the Day of Atonement.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Seder</span> (Heb.). Home service on the first two Passover evenings.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Seliches</span> (Heb.). Penitential prayers.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Seventeenth of Tammuz.</span> Fast in commemoration of the first breach made in +the walls of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shalom</span> (Heb. in Sefardic pronunciation). Peace. <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Sholom Alechem</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shamash</span> (Heb.). Beadle.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shechinah</span> (Heb.). The Divine Presence.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shegetz</span> (Heb.). "Abomination;" a sinner; a rascal.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shlimm-Mazel</span> (Ger. and Heb.). Bad luck; luckless fellow.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shmooreh-Matzes</span> (Heb.). Unleavened bread specially guarded and watched +from the harvesting of the wheat to the baking and storing.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shochet</span> (Heb.). Ritual slaughterer.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shofar</span> (Heb.). Ram's horn, sounded on New Year's Day and the Day of +Atonement. <i>See</i> Lev. xxiii. 24.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Sholom (Shalom) Alechem</span> (Heb.). "Peace unto you"; greeting, salutation, +especially to one newly arrived after a journey.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shomer.</span> Pseudonym of a Yiddish author, Nahum M. Schaikewitz.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shool</span> (Ger., Schul'). Synagogue.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Shulchan Aruch</span> (Heb.). The Jewish code.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Silent Prayer.</span> <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Eighteen Benedictions</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Solemn Days.</span> The ten days from New Year to the Day of Atonement +inclusive.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Soul-lights.</span> Candles lighted in memory of the dead.<a name="page_596" id="page_596"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Stuffed monkeys.</span> Pastry filled with chopped fruit and spices.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tallis</span> (popular plural formation, Tallesim) (Heb.). The prayer-scarf.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tallis-koton</span> (Heb.). <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Four-Corners</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Talmid-Chochem</span> (Heb.). Sage; scholar.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Talmud Torah</span> (Heb.). Free communal school.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tano</span> (Heb.). A Rabbi cited in the Mishnah as an authority.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tararam</span>. Noise; tumult; ado.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tate</span>, <span class="smcap">Tatishe</span> (Ger. and Russ. dimin.). Father.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tefillin-Säcklech</span> (Heb. and Ger.). Phylacteries bag.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tisho-b'ov</span> (Heb.). Ninth of Ab, day of mourning and fasting to +commemorate the destruction of Jerusalem; hence, colloquially, a sad +day.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Torah</span> (Heb.). The Jewish Law in general, and the Pentateuch in +particular.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tsisin.</span> Season.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Tzaddik</span> (pl. Tzaddikim) (Heb.). "Righteous"; title of the Chassidic +leader.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">U-mipné Chatoénu</span> (Heb.). "And on account of our sins," the first two +words of a prayer for the restoration of the sacrificial service, +recited in the Additional Service of the Holy Days and the festivals.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">U-Nesanneh-Toikef</span> (Heb.). "And we ascribe majesty," the first two words +of a Piyyut recited on New Year and on the Day of Atonement.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Verfallen!</span> (Ger.). Lost; done for.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Vershok</span> (Russ.). Two inches and a quarter.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Vierer</span> (Ger.). Four kopeks.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Vivat.</span> Toast.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Yeshiveh</span> (Heb.). Talmud Academy.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Yohrzeit</span> (Ger.). Anniversary of a death.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Yom Kippur</span> (Heb.). Day of Atonement.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Yom-tov</span> (Heb.). Festival.</p> + +<p class="hangene"><span class="smcap">Zhydek</span> (Little Russ.). Jew.<a name="page_597" id="page_597"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_015">15</a>. "It was seldom that parties went 'to law' ... before the +Rav."—The Rabbi with his Dayonim gave civil as well as religious +decisions.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_015">15</a>. "Milky Sabbath."—All meals without meat. In connection with +fowl, ritual questions frequently arise.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_016">16</a>. "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow."—Reuben and Simeon are +fictitious plaintiff and defendant in the Talmud; similar to John Doe +and Richard Roe.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_017">17</a>. "He described a half-circle," etc.—<i>See under</i> <span class="smcap">Gemoreh</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_057">57</a>. "Not every one is worthy of both tables!"—Worthy of Torah and +riches.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_117">117</a>. "They salted the meat."—The ritual ordinance requires that meat +should be salted down for an hour after it has soaked in water for half +an hour.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_150">150</a>. "Puts off his shoes!"—To pray in stocking-feet is a sign of +mourning and a penance.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_190">190</a>. "We have trespassed," etc.—The Confession of Sins.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_190">190</a>. "The beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows," etc.—<i>see</i> +<span class="smcap">Malkes</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_197">197</a>. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.—The Introduction to +the solemn Kol Nidré prayer.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_220">220</a>. "He began to wear the phylacteries and the prayer-scarf," +etc.—They are worn first when a boy is Bar-Mitzveh (<i>which see</i>); +Ezrielk was married at the age of thirteen.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_220">220</a>. "He could not even break the wine-glass," etc.—A marriage +custom.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_220">220</a>. "Waving of the sacrificial fowls."—<i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Scape-fowls</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_220">220</a>. "The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates."—A betrothal +custom.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_227">227</a>. "Had a double right to board with their parents +'forever.'"—<i>See</i> Köst.<a name="page_598" id="page_598"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_271">271</a>. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.—<i>See note under</i> p. +197.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_273">273</a>. "Nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead."—<i>See note under</i> p. 547.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_319">319</a>. "Give me a teacher who can tell," etc.—Reference to the story +of the heathen who asked, first of Shammai, and then of Hillel, to be +taught the whole of the Jewish Law while standing on one leg.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_326">326</a>. "And those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the +sky."—To look for the appearance of three stars, which indicate +nightfall, and the end of the Sabbath.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_336">336</a>. "Jeroboam the son of Nebat."—The Rabbinical type for one who +not only sins himself, but induces others to sin, too.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_401">401</a>. "Thursday."—<i>See note under</i> p. <a href="#page_516">516</a>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_403">403</a>. "Monday," "Wednesday," "Tuesday."—<i>See note under</i> p. <a href="#page_516">516</a>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_427">427</a>. "Six months' 'board.'"—<i>See</i> Köst.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_443">443</a>. "I knew Hebrew grammar, and could write Hebrew, too."—<i>See</i> +<span class="smcap">Maskil</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_445">445</a>. "A Jeroboam son of Nebat."—<i>See note under</i> p. <a href="#page_336">336</a>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_489">489</a>. "In a snow-white robe."—The head of the house is clad in his +shroud at the Seder on the Passover.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_516">516</a>. "She knew that on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his 'day'," etc.—At +the houses of well-to-do families meals were furnished to poor students, +each student having a specific day of the week with a given family +throughout the year.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_547">547</a>. "Why had he brought ... a white shirt-like garment?"—The +worshippers in the synagogue on the Day of Atonement wear shrouds.</p> + +<p><a name="page_599" id="page_599"></a></p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_552">552</a>. "Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?"—<i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Malkes</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangene">P. <a href="#page_574">574</a>. "In a hundred and twenty years."—The age attained by Moses and +Aaron; a good old age. The expression is used when planning for a future +to come after the death of the person spoken to, to imply that there is +no desire to see his days curtailed for the sake of the plan.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yiddish Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 33707-h.htm or 33707-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/7/0/33707/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Yiddish Tales + +Author: Various + +Translator: Helena Frank + +Release Date: September 12, 2010 [EBook #33707] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + + + + + + + + +YIDDISH TALES + +TRANSLATED BY +HELENA FRANK + +[Illustration: colophon] + +PHILADELPHIA +THE JEWISH PUBLICATION SOCIETY OF AMERICA +1912 + +COPYRIGHT, 1912, +BY THE JEWISH PUBLICATION SOCIETY OF AMERICA + + + + +PREFACE + + +This little volume is intended to be both companion and complement to +"Stories and Pictures," by I. L. Perez, published by the Jewish +Publication Society of America, in 1906. + +Its object was twofold: to introduce the non-Yiddish reading public to +some of the many other Yiddish writers active in Russian Jewry, and--to +leave it with a more cheerful impression of Yiddish literature than it +receives from Perez alone. Yes, and we have collected, largely from +magazines and papers and unbound booklets, forty-eight tales by twenty +different authors. This, thanks to such kind helpers as Mr. F. Hieger, +of London, without whose aid we should never have been able to collect +the originals of these stories, Mr. Morris Meyer, of London, who most +kindly gave me the magazines, etc., in which some of them were +contained, and Mr. Israel J. Zevin, of New York, that able editor and +delightful _feuilletonist_, to whose critical knowledge of Yiddish +letters we owe so much. + +Some of these writers, Perez, for example, and Sholom-Alechem, are +familiar by name to many of us already, while the reputation of others +rests, in circles enthusiastic but tragically small, on what they have +written in Hebrew.[1] Such are Berdyczewski, Jehalel, Frischmann, +Berschadski, and the silver-penned Judah Steinberg. On these last two be +peace in the Olom ho-Emess. The Olom ha-Sheker had nothing for them but +struggle and suffering and an early grave. + +[1] Berschadski's "Forlorn and Forsaken," Frischmann's "Three +Who Ate," and Steinberg's "A Livelihood" and "At the Matzes," though +here translated from the Yiddish versions, were probably written in +Hebrew originally. In the case of the former two, it would seem that the +Yiddish version was made by the authors themselves, and the same may be +true of Steinberg's tales, too. + +The tales given here are by no means all equal in literary merit, but +they have each its special note, its special echo from that strangely +fascinating world so often quoted, so little understood (we say it +against ourselves), the Russian Ghetto--a world in the passing, but +whose more precious elements, shining, for all who care to see them, +through every page of these unpretending tales, and mixed with less and +less of what has made their misfortune, will surely live on, free, on +the one hand, to blend with all and everything akin to them, and free, +on the other, to develop along their own lines--and this year here, next +year in Jerusalem. + +The American sketches by Zevin and S. Libin differ from the others only +in their scene of action. Lerner's were drawn from the life in a little +town in Bessarabia, the others are mostly Polish. And the folk tale, +which is taken from Joshua Meisach's collection, published in Wilna in +1905, with the title Ma'asiyos vun der Baben, oder Nissim ve-Niflo'os, +might have sprung from almost any Ghetto of the Old World. + +We sincerely regret that nothing from the pen of the beloved +"Grandfather" of Yiddish story-tellers in print, Abramowitsch (Mendele +Mocher Seforim), was found quite suitable for insertion here, his +writings being chiefly much longer than the type selected for this book. +Neither have we come across anything appropriate to our purpose by +another old favorite, J. Dienesohn. We were, however, able to insert +three tales by the veteran author Mordecai Spektor, whose simple style +and familiar figures go straight to the people's heart. + +With regard to the second half of our object, greater cheerfulness, this +collection is an utter failure. It has variety, on account of the many +different authors, and the originals have wit and humor in plenty, for +wit and humor and an almost passionate playfulness are in the very soul +of the language, but it is not cheerful, and we wonder now how we ever +thought it could be so, if the collective picture given of Jewish life +were, despite its fictitious material, to be anything like a true one. +The drollest of the tales, "Gymnasiye" (we refer to the originals), is +perhaps the saddest, anyhow in point of actuality, seeing that the +Russian Government is planning to make education impossible of +attainment by more and more of the Jewish youth--children given into its +keeping as surely as any others, and for the crushing of whose lives it +will have to answer. + +Well, we have done our best. Among these tales are favorites of ours +which we have not so much as mentioned by name, thus leaving the gentle +reader at liberty to make his own. + +H. F. + +LONDON, MARCH, 1911 + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGEMENT + + +The Jewish Publication Society of America desires to acknowledge the +valuable aid which Mr. A. S. Freidus, of the Department of Jewish +Literature, in the New York Public Library, extended to it in compiling +the biographical data relating to the authors whose stories appear in +English garb in the present volume. Some of the authors that are living +in America courteously furnished the Society with the data referring to +their own biographies. + +The following sources have been consulted for the biographies: The +Jewish Encyclopaedia; Wiener, History of Yiddish Literature in the +Nineteenth Century; Pinnes, Histoire de la Litterature Judeo-Allemande, +and the Yiddish version of the same, Die Geschichte vun der juedischer +Literatur; Baal-Mahashabot, Geklibene Schriften; Sefer Zikkaron +le-Sofere Yisrael ha-hayyim ittanu ka-Yom; Eisenstadt, Hakme Yisrael +be-Amerika; the memoirs preceding the collected works of some of the +authors; and scattered articles in European and American Yiddish +periodicals. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE 5 + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT 8 + +REUBEN ASHER BRAUBES +The Misfortune 13 + +JEHALEL (JUDAH LOeB LEWIN) +Earth of Palestine 29 + +ISAAC LOeB PEREZ +A Woman's Wrath 55 +The Treasure 62 +It Is Well 67 +Whence a Proverb 73 + +MORDECAI SPEKTOR +An Original Strike 83 +A Gloomy Wedding 91 +Poverty 107 + +SHOLOM-ALECHEM (SHALOM RABINOVITZ) +The Clock 115 +Fishel the Teacher 125 +An Easy Fast 143 +The Passover Guest 153 +Gymnasiye 162 + +ELIEZER DAVID ROSENTHAL +Sabbath 183 +Yom Kippur 189 + +ISAIAH LERNER +Bertzi Wasserfuehrer 211 +Ezrielk the Scribe 219 +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber 236 + +JUDAH STEINBERG +A Livelihood 251 +At the Matzes 259 + +DAVID FRISCHMANN +Three Who Ate 269 + +MICHA JOSEPH BERDYCZEWSKI +Military Service 281 + +ISAIAH BERSCHADSKI +Forlorn and Forsaken 295 + +TASHRAK (ISRAEL JOSEPH ZEVIN) +The Hole in a Beigel 309 +As the Years Roll On 312 + +DAVID PINSKI +Reb Shloimeh 319 + +S. LIBIN (ISRAEL HUBEWITZ) +A Picnic 357 +Manasseh 366 +Yohrzeit for Mother 371 +Slack Times They Sleep 377 + +ABRAHAM RAISIN +Shut In 385 +The Charitable Loan 389 +The Two Brothers 397 +Lost His Voice 405 +Late 415 +The Kaddish 421 +Avrohom the Orchard-Keeper 427 + +HIRSH DAVID NAUMBERG +The Rav and the Rav's Son 435 + +MEYER BLINKIN +Women 449 + +LOeB SCHAPIRO +If It Was a Dream 481 + +SHALOM ASCH +A Simple Story 493 +A Jewish Child 506 +A Scholar's Mother 514 +The Sinner 529 + +ISAAC DOB BERKOWITZ +Country Folk 543 +The Last of Them 566 + +A FOLK TALE +The Clever Rabbi 581 + +GLOSSARY AND NOTES 589 + + + + +REUBEN ASHER BRAUDES + +Born, 1851, in Wilna (Lithuania), White Russia; went to Roumania +after the anti-Jewish riots of 1882, and published a Yiddish +weekly, Yehudit, in the interest of Zionism; expelled from +Roumania; published a Hebrew weekly, Ha-Zeman, in Cracow, in 1891; +then co-editor of the Yiddish edition of Die Welt, the official +organ of Zionism; Hebrew critic, publicist, and novelist; +contributor to Ha-Lebanon (at eighteen), Ha-Shahar, Ha-Boker Or, +and other periodicals; chief work, the novel "Religion and Life." + + + + +THE MISFORTUNE + +OR HOW THE RAV OF PUMPIAN TRIED TO SOLVE A SOCIAL PROBLEM + + +Pumpian is a little town in Lithuania, a Jewish town. It lies far away +from the highway, among villages reached by the Polish Road. The +inhabitants of Pumpian are poor people, who get a scanty living from the +peasants that come into the town to make purchases, or else the Jews go +out to them with great bundles on their shoulders and sell them every +sort of small ware, in return for a little corn, or potatoes, etc. +Strangers, passing through, are seldom seen there, and if by any chance +a strange person arrives, it is a great wonder and rarity. People peep +at him through all the little windows, elderly men venture out to bid +him welcome, while boys and youths hang about in the street and stare at +him. The women and girls blush and glance at him sideways, and he is the +one subject of conversation: "Who can that be? People don't just set off +and come like that--there must be something behind it." And in the +house-of-study, between Afternoon and Evening Prayer, they gather +closely round the elder men, who have been to greet the stranger, to +find out who and what the latter may be. + +Fifty or sixty years ago, when what I am about to tell you happened, +communication between Pumpian and the rest of the world was very +restricted indeed: there were as yet no railways, there was no +telegraph, the postal service was slow and intermittent. People came +and went less often, a journey was a great undertaking, and there were +not many outsiders to be found even in the larger towns. Every town was +a town to itself, apart, and Pumpian constituted a little world of its +own, which had nothing to do with the world at large, and lived its own +life. + +Neither were there so many newspapers then, anywhere, to muddle people's +heads every day of the week, stirring up questions, so that people +should have something to talk about, and the Jews had no papers of their +own at all, and only heard "news" and "what was going on in the world" +in the house-of-study or (lehavdil!) in the bath-house. And what sort of +news was it _then_? What sort could it be? World-stirring questions +hardly existed (certainly Pumpian was ignorant of them): politics, +economics, statistics, capital, social problems, all these words, now on +the lips of every boy and girl, were then all but unknown even in the +great world, let alone among us Jews, and let alone to Reb Nochumtzi, +the Pumpian Rav! + +And yet Reb Nochumtzi had a certain amount of worldly wisdom of his own. + +Reb Nochumtzi was a native of Pumpian, and had inherited his position +there from his father. He had been an only son, made much of by his +parents (hence the pet name Nochumtzi clinging to him even in his old +age), and never let out of their sight. When he had grown up, they +connected him by marriage with the tenant of an estate not far from the +town, but his father would not hear of his going there "auf Koest," as +the custom is. "I cannot be parted from my Nochumtzi even for a minute," +explained the old Rav, "I cannot bear him out of my sight. Besides, we +study together." And, in point of fact, they did study together day and +night. It was evident that the Rav was determined his Nochumtzi should +become Rav in Pumpian after his death--and so he became. + +He had been Rav some years in the little town, receiving the same five +Polish gulden a week salary as his father (on whom be peace!), and he +sat and studied and thought. He had nothing much to do in the way of +exercising authority: the town was very quiet, the people orderly, there +were no quarrels, and it was seldom that parties went "to law" with one +another before the Rav; still less often was there a ritual question to +settle: the folk were poor, there was no meat cooked in a Jewish house +from one Friday to another, when one must have a bit of meat in honor of +Sabbath. Fish was a rarity, and in summer time people often had a "milky +Sabbath," as well as a milky week. How should there be "questions"? So +he sat and studied and thought, and he was very fond indeed of thinking +about the world! + +It is true that he sat all day in his room, that he had never in all his +life been so much as "four ells" outside the town, that it had never so +much as occurred to him to drive about a little in any direction, for, +after all, whither should he drive? And why drive anywhither? And yet he +knew the world, like any other learned man, a disciple of the wise. +Everything is in the Torah, and out of the Torah, out of the Gemoreh, +and out of all the other sacred books, Reb Nochumtzi had learned to +know the world also. He knew that "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow," that +"a spark from a smith's hammer can burn a wagon-load of hay," that "Reb +Eliezer ben Charsum had a thousand towns on land and a thousand ships on +the sea." Ha, that was a fortune! He must have been nearly as rich as +Rothschild (they knew about Rothschild even in Pumpian!). "Yes, he was a +rich Tano and no mistake!" he reflected, and was straightway sunk in the +consideration of the subject of rich and poor. + +He knew from the holy books that to be rich is a pure misfortune. King +Solomon, who was certainly a great sage, prayed to God: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li!--"Give me neither poverty nor _riches_!" He said that +"riches are stored to the hurt of their owner," and in the holy Gemoreh +there is a passage which says, "Poverty becomes a Jew as scarlet reins +become a white horse," and once a sage had been in Heaven for a short +time and had come back again, and he said that he had seen poor people +there occupying the principal seats in the Garden of Eden, and the rich +pushed right away, back into a corner by the door. And as for the books +of exhortation, there are things written that make you shudder in every +limb. The punishments meted out to the rich by God in that world, the +world of truth, are no joke. For what bit of merit they have, God +rewards them in _this_ poor world, the world of vanity, while yonder, in +the world of truth, they arrive stript and naked, without so much as a +taste of Kingdom-come! + +"Consequently, the question is," thought Reb Nochumtzi, "why should +they, the rich, want to keep this misfortune? Of what use is this +misfortune to them? Who so mad as to take such a piece of misfortune +into his house and keep it there? How can anyone take the world-to-come +in both hands and lose it for the sake of such vanities?" + +He thought and thought, and thought it over again: + +"What is a poor creature to do when God sends him the misfortune of +riches? He would certainly wish to get rid of them, only who would take +his misfortune to please him? Who would free another from a curse and +take it upon himself? + +"But, after all ... ha?" the Evil Spirit muttered inside him. + +"What a fool you are!" thought Reb Nochumtzi again. "If" (and he +described a half-circle downward in the air with his thumb), "if +troubles come to us, such as an illness (may the Merciful protect us!), +or some other misfortune of the kind, it is expressly stated in the +Sacred Writings that it is an expiation for sin, a torment sent into the +world, so that we may be purified by it, and made fit to go straight to +Paradise. And because it is God who afflicts men with these things, we +cannot give them away to anyone else, but have to bear with them. Now, +such a misfortune as being rich, which is also a visitation of God, must +certainly be borne with like the rest. + +"And, besides," he reflected further, "the fool who would take the +misfortune to himself, doesn't exist! What healthy man in his senses +would get into a sick-bed?" + +He began to feel very sorry for Reb Eliezer ben Charsum with his +thousand towns and his thousand ships. "To think that such a saint, such +a Tano, one of the authors of the holy Mishnah, should incur such a +severe punishment! + +"But he stood the trial! Despite this great misfortune, he remained a +saint and a Tano to the end, and the holy Gemoreh says particularly that +he thereby put to shame all the rich people, who go straight to +Gehenna." + +Thus Reb Nochumtzi, the Pumpian Rav, sat over the Talmud and reflected +continually on the problem of great riches. He knew the world through +the Holy Scriptures, and was persuaded that riches were a terrible +misfortune, which had to be borne, because no one would consent to +taking it from another, and bearing it for him. + + * * * * * + +Again many years passed, and Reb Nochumtzi gradually came to see that +poverty also is a misfortune, and out of his own experience. + +His Sabbath cloak began to look threadbare (the weekday one was already +patched on every side), he had six little children living, one or two of +the girls were grown up, and it was time to think of settling them, and +they hadn't a frock fit to put on. The five Polish gulden a week salary +was not enough to keep them in bread, and the wife, poor thing, wept the +whole day through: "Well, there, ich wie ich, it isn't for myself--but +the poor children are naked and barefoot." + +At last they were even short of bread. + +"Nochumtzi! Why don't you speak?" exclaimed his wife with tears in her +eyes. "Nochumtzi, can't you hear me? I tell you, we're starving! The +children are skin and bone, they haven't a shirt to their back, they can +hardly keep body and soul together. Think of a way out of it, invent +something to help us!" + +And Reb Nochumtzi sat and considered. + +He was considering the other misfortune--poverty. + +"It is equally a misfortune to be really very poor." + +And this also he found stated in the Holy Scriptures. + +It was King Solomon, the famous sage, who prayed as well: Resh wo-Osher +al-titten li, that is, "Give me neither _poverty_ nor riches." Aha! +poverty is no advantage, either, and what does the holy Gemoreh say but +"Poverty diverts a man from the way of God"? In fact, there is a second +misfortune in the world, and one he knows very well, one with which he +has a practical, working acquaintance, he and his wife and his children. + +And Reb Nochum pursued his train of thought: + +"So there are two contrary misfortunes in the world: this way it's bad, +and that way it's bitter! Is there really no remedy? Can no one suggest +any help?" + +And Reb Nochumtzi began to pace the room up and down, lost in thought, +bending his whole mind to the subject. A whole flight of Bible texts +went through his head, a quantity of quotations from the Gemoreh, +hundreds of stories and anecdotes from the "Fountain of Jacob," the +Midrash, and other books, telling of rich and poor, fortunate and +unfortunate people, till his head went round with them all as he +thought. Suddenly he stood still in the middle of the room, and began +talking to himself: + +"Aha! Perhaps I've discovered a plan after all! And a good plan, too, +upon my word it is! Once more: it is quite certain that there will +always be more poor than rich--lots more! Well, and it's quite certain +that every rich man would like to be rid of his misfortune, only that +there is no one willing to take it from him--no _one_, not any _one_, of +course not. Nobody would be so mad. But we have to find out a way by +which _lots and lots_ of people should rid him of his misfortune little +by little. What do you say to that? Once more: that means that we must +take his unfortunate riches and divide them among a quantity of poor! +That will be a good thing for both parties: he will be easily rid of his +great misfortune, and they would be helped, too, and the petition of +King Solomon would be established, when he said, 'Give me neither +poverty nor riches.' It would come true of them all, there would be no +riches and no poverty. Ha? What do you think of it? Isn't it really and +truly an excellent idea?" + +Reb Nochumtzi was quite astonished himself at the plan he had invented, +cold perspiration ran down his face, his eyes shone brighter, a happy +smile played on his lips. "That's the thing to do!" he explained aloud, +sat down by the table, blew his nose, wiped his face, and felt very +glad. + +"There is only one difficulty about it," occurred to him, when he had +quieted down a little from his excitement, "one thing that doesn't fit +in. It says particularly in the Torah that there will always be poor +people among the Jews, 'the poor shall not cease out of the land.' There +must always be poor, and this would make an end of them altogether! +Besides, the precept concerning charity would, Heaven forbid, be +annulled, the precept which God, blessed is He, wrote in the Torah, and +which the holy Gemoreh and all the other holy books make so much of. +What is to become of the whole treatise on charity in the Shulchan +Aruch? How can we continue to fulfil it?" + +But a good head is never at a loss! Reb Nochumtzi soon found a way out +of the difficulty. + +"Never mind!" and he wrinkled his forehead, and pondered on. "There is +no fear! Who said that even the whole of the money in the possession of +a few unfortunate rich men will be enough to go round? That there will +be just enough to help all the Jewish poor? No fear, there will be +enough poor left for the exercise of charity. Ai wos? There is another +thing: to whom shall be given and to whom not? Ha, that's a detail, too. +Of course, one would begin with the learned and the poor scholars and +sages, who have to live on the Torah and on Divine Service. The people +can just be left to go on as it is. No fear, but it will be all right!" + +At last the plan was ready. Reb Nochumtzi thought it over once more, +very carefully, found it complete from every point of view, and gave +himself up to a feeling of satisfaction and delight. + +"Dvoireh!" he called to his wife, "Dvoireh, don't cry! Please God, it +will be all right, quite all right. I've thought out a plan.... A +little patience, and it will all come right!" + +"Whatever? What sort of plan?" + +"There, there, wait and see and hold your tongue! No woman's brain could +take it in. You leave it to me, it will be all right!" + +And Reb Nochumtzi reflected further: + +"Yes, the plan is a good one. Only, how is it to be carried out? With +whom am I to begin?" + +And he thought of all the householders in Pumpian, but--there was not +one single unfortunate man among them! That is, not one of them had +money, a real lot of money; there was nobody with whom to discuss his +invention to any purpose. + +"If so, I shall have to drive to one of the large towns!" + +And one Sabbath the beadle gave out in the house-of-study that the Rav +begged them all to be present that evening at a convocation. + +At the said convocation the Rav unfolded his whole plan to the people, +and placed before them the happiness that would result for the whole +world, if it were to be realized. But first of all he must journey to a +large town, in which there were a great many unfortunate rich people, +preferably Wilna, and he demanded of his flock that they should furnish +him with the necessary means for getting there. + +The audience did not take long to reflect, they agreed to the Rav's +proposal, collected a few rubles (for who would not give their last +farthing for such an important object?), and on Sunday morning early +they hired him a peasant's cart and horse--and the Rav drove away to +Wilna. + +The Rav passed the drive marshalling his arguments, settling on what he +should say, and how he should explain himself, and he was delighted to +see how, the more deeply he pondered his plan, the more he thought it +out, the more efficient and appropriate it appeared, and the clearer he +saw what happiness it would bestow on men all the world over. + +The small cart arrived at Wilna. + +"Whither are we to drive?" asked the peasant. + +"Whither? To a Jew," answered the Rav. "For where is the Jew who will +not give me a night's lodging?" + +"And I, with my cart and horse?" + +The Rav sat perplexed, but a Jew passing by heard the conversation, and +explained to him that Wilna is not Pumpian, and that they would have to +drive to a post-house, or an inn. + +"Be it so!" said the Rav, and the Jew gave him the address of a place to +which they should drive. + +Wilna! It is certainly not the same thing as Pumpian. Now, for the first +time in his life, the Rav saw whole streets of tall houses, of two and +three stories, all as it were under one roof, and how fine they are, +thought he, with their decorated exteriors! + +"Oi, there live the unfortunate people!" said Reb Nochumtzi to himself. +"I never saw anything like them before! How can they bear such a +misfortune? I shall come to them as an angel of deliverance!" + +He had made up his mind to go to the principal Jewish citizen in Wilna, +only he must be a good scholar, so as to understand what Reb Nochumtzi +had to say to him. + +They advised him to go to the president of the Congregation. + +Every street along which he passed astonished him separately, the +houses, the pavements, the droshkis and carriages, and especially the +people, so beautifully got up with gold watch-chains and rings--he was +quite bewildered, so that he was afraid he might lose his senses, and +forget all his arguments and his reasonings. + +At last he arrived at the president's house. + +"He lives on the first floor." Another surprise! Reb Nochumtzi was +unused to stairs. There was no storied house in all Pumpian! But when +you must, you must! One way and another he managed to arrive at the +first-floor landing, where he opened the door, and said, all in one +breath: + +"I am the Pumpian Rav, and have something to say to the president." + +The president, a handsome old man, very busy just then with some +merchants who had come on business, stood up, greeted him politely, and +opening the door of the reception-room said to him: + +"Please, Rabbi, come in here and wait a little. I shall soon have +finished, and then I will come to you here." + +Expensive furniture, large mirrors, pictures, softly upholstered chairs, +tables, cupboards with shelves full of great silver candlesticks, cups, +knives and forks, a beautiful lamp, and many other small objects, all +of solid silver, wardrobes with carving in different designs; then, +painted walls, a great silver chandelier decorated with cut glass, +fascinating to behold! Reb Nochumtzi actually had tears in his eyes, "To +think of anyone's being so unfortunate--and to have to bear it!" + +"What can I do for you, Pumpian Rav?" inquired the president. + +And Reb Nochumtzi, overcome by amazement and enthusiasm, nearly shouted: + +"You are so unfortunate!" + +The president stared at him, shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. + +Then Reb Nochumtzi laid his whole plan before him, the object of his +coming. + +"I will be frank with you," he said in concluding his long speech, "I +had no idea of the extent of the misfortune! To the rescue, men, save +yourselves! Take it to heart, think of what it means to have houses like +these, and all these riches--it is a most terrible misfortune! Now I see +what a reform of the whole world my plan amounts to, what deliverance it +will bring to all men!" + +The president looked him straight in the face: he saw the man was not +mad, but that he had the limited horizon of one born and bred in a small +provincial town and in the atmosphere of the house-of-study. + +He also saw that it would be impossible to convince him by proofs that +his idea was a mistaken one; for a little while he pitied him in +silence, then he hit upon an expedient, and said: + +"You are quite right, Rabbi! Your plan is really a very good one. But I +am only one of many, Wilna is full of such unfortunate people. Everyone +of them must be talked to, and have the thing explained to him. Then, +the other party must be spoken to as well, I mean the poor people, so +that they shall be willing to take their share of the misfortune. That's +not such an easy matter as giving a thing away and getting rid of it." + +"Of course, of course...." agreed Reb Nochumtzi. + +"Look here, Rav of Pumpian, I will undertake the more difficult +part--let us work together! You shall persuade the rich to give away +their misfortune, and I will persuade the poor to take it! Your share of +the work will be the easier, because, after all, everybody wants to be +rid of his misfortune. Do your part, and as soon as you have finished +with the rich, I will arrange for you to be met half-way by the +poor...." + + * * * * * + +History does not tell how far the Rav of Pumpian succeeded in Wilna. +Only this much is certain, the president never saw him again. + + + + +JEHALEL + +Pen name of Judah Loeb Lewin; born, 1845, in Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; tutor; treasurer to the Brodski flour mills and their sugar +refinery, at Tomaschpol, Podolia, later in Kieff; began to write in +1860; translator of Beaconsfield's Tancred into Hebrew; Talmudist; +mystic; first Socialist writer in Hebrew; writer, chiefly in Hebrew, of +prose and poetry; contributor to Sholom-Alechem's Juedische +Volksbibliothek, Ha-Shahar, Ha-Meliz, Ha-Zeflrah, and other +periodicals. + + + + +EARTH OF PALESTINE + + +As my readers know, I wanted to do a little stroke of business--to sell +the world-to-come. I must tell you that I came out of it very badly, and +might have fallen into some misfortune, if I had had the ware in stock. +It fell on this wise: Nowadays everyone is squeezed and stifled; +Parnosseh is gone to wrack and ruin, and there is no business--I mean, +there _is_ business, only not for us Jews. In such bitter times people +snatch the bread out of each other's mouths; if it is known that someone +has made a find, and started a business, they quickly imitate him; if +that one opens a shop, a second does likewise, and a third, and a +fourth; if this one makes a contract, the other runs and will do it for +less--"Even if I earn nothing, no more will you!" + +When I gave out that I had the world-to-come to sell, lots of people +gave a start, "Aha! a business!" and before they knew what sort of ware +it was, and where it was to be had, they began thinking about a +shop--and there was still greater interest shown on the part of certain +philanthropists, party leaders, public workers, and such-like. They knew +that when I set up trading in the world-to-come, I had announced that my +business was only with the poor. Well, they understood that it was +likely to be profitable, and might give them the chance of licking a +bone or two. There was very soon a great tararam in our little world, +people began inquiring where my goods came from. They surrounded me with +spies, who were to find out what I did at night, what I did on Sabbath; +they questioned the cook, the market-woman; but in vain, they could not +find out how I came by the world-to-come. And there blazed up a fire of +jealousy and hatred, and they began to inform, to write letters to the +authorities about me. Laban the Yellow and Balaam the Blind (you know +them!) made my boss believe that I do business, that is, that I have +capital, that is--that is--but my employer investigated the matter, and +seeing that my stock in trade was the world-to-come, he laughed, and let +me alone. The townspeople among whom it was my lot to dwell, those good +people who are a great hand at fishing in troubled waters, as soon as +they saw the mud rise, snatched up their implements and set to work, +informing by letter that I was dealing in contraband. There appeared a +red official and swept out a few corners in my house, but without +finding a single specimen bit of the world-to-come, and went away. But I +had no peace even then; every day came a fresh letter informing against +me. My good brothers never ceased work. The pious, orthodox Jews, the +Gemoreh-Koeplech, informed, and said I was a swindler, because the +world-to-come is a thing that isn't there, that is neither fish, flesh, +fowl, nor good red herring, and the whole thing was a delusion; the +half-civilized people with long trousers and short earlocks said, on the +contrary, that I was making game of religion, so that before long I had +enough of it from every side, and made the following resolutions: first, +that I would have nothing to do with the world-to-come and such-like +things which the Jews did not understand, although they held them very +precious; secondly, that I would not let myself in for selling +anything. One of my good friends, an experienced merchant, advised me +rather to buy than to sell: "There are so many to sell, they will +compete with you, inform against you, and behave as no one should. +Buying, on the other hand--if you want to buy, you will be esteemed and +respected, everyone will flatter you, and be ready to sell to you on +credit--everyone is ready to take money, and with very little capital +you can buy the best and most expensive ware." The great thing was to +get a good name, and then, little by little, by means of credit, one +might rise very high. + +So it was settled that I should buy. I had a little money on hand for a +couple of newspaper articles, for which nowadays they pay; I had a bit +of reputation earned by a great many articles in Hebrew, for which I +received quite nice complimentary letters; and, in case of need, there +is a little money owing to me from certain Jewish booksellers of the +Maskilim, for books bought "on commission." Well, I am resolved to buy. + +But what shall I buy? I look round and take note of all the things a man +can buy, and see that I, as a Jew, may not have them; that which I may +buy, no matter where, isn't worth a halfpenny; a thing that is of any +value, I can't have. And I determine to take to the old ware which my +great-great-grandfathers bought, and made a fortune in. My parents and +the whole family wish for it every day. I resolve to buy--you understand +me?--earth of Palestine, and I announce both verbally and in writing to +all my good and bad brothers that I wish to become a purchaser of the +ware. + +Oh, what a commotion it made! Hardly was it known that I wished to buy +Palestinian earth, than there pounced upon me people of whom I had never +thought it possible that they should talk to me, and be in the room with +me. The first to come was a kind of Jew with a green shawl, with white +shoes, a pale face with a red nose, dark eyes, and yellow earlocks. He +commenced unpacking paper and linen bags, out of which he shook a little +sand, and he said to me: "That is from Mother Rachel's grave, from the +Shunammite's grave, from the graves of Huldah the prophetess and +Deborah." Then he shook out the other bags, and mentioned a whole list +of men: from the grave of Enoch, Moses our Teacher, Elijah the Prophet, +Habakkuk, Ezekiel, Jonah, authors of the Talmud, and holy men as many as +there be. He assured me that each kind of sand had its own precious +distinction, and had, of course, its special price. I had not had time +to examine all the bags of sand, when, aha! I got a letter written on +blue paper in Rashi script, in which an unknown well-wisher earnestly +warned me against buying of _that_ Jew, for neither he nor his father +before him had ever been in Palestine, and he had got the sand in K., +from the Andreiyeff Hills yonder, and that if I wished for it, _he_ had +_real_ Palestinian earth, from the Mount of Olives, with a document from +the Palestinian vicegerent, the Brisk Rebbetzin, to the effect that she +had given of this earth even to the eaters of swine's flesh, of whom it +is said, "for their worm shall not die," and they also were saved from +worms. My Palestinian Jew, after reading the letter, called down all bad +dreams upon the head of the Brisk Rebbetzin, and declared among other +things that she herself was a dreadful worm, who, etc. He assured me +that I ought not to send money to the Brisk Rebbetzin, "May Heaven +defend you! it will be thrown away, as it has been a hundred times +already!" and began once more to praise _his_ wares, his earth, saying +it was a marvel. I answered him that I wanted real earth of Palestine, +_earth_, not sand out of little bags. + +"Earth, it _is_ earth!" he repeated, and became very angry. "What do you +mean by earth? Am I offering you mud? But that is the way with people +nowadays, when they want something Jewish, there is no pleasing them! +Only" (a thought struck him) "if you want another sort, perhaps from the +field of Machpelah, I can bring you some Palestinian earth that _is_ +earth. Meantime give me something in advance, for, besides everything +else, I am a Palestinian Jew." + +I pushed a coin into his hand, and he went away. Meanwhile the news had +spread, my intention to purchase earth of Palestine had been noised +abroad, and the little town echoed with my name. In the streets, lanes, +and market-place, the talk was all of me and of how "there is no putting +a final value on a Jewish soul: one thought he was one of _them_, and +now he wants to buy earth of Palestine!" Many of those who met me looked +at me askance, "The same and _not_ the same!" In the synagogue they gave +me the best turn at the Reading of the Law; Jews in shoes and socks +wished me "a good Sabbath" with great heartiness, and a friendly smile: +"Eh-eh-eh! We understand--you are a deep one--you are one of us after +all." In short, they surrounded me, and nearly carried me on their +shoulders, so that I really became something of a celebrity. + +Yuedel, the "living orphan," worked the hardest. Yuedel is already a man +in years, but everyone calls him the "orphan" on account of what befell +him on a time. His history is very long and interesting, I will tell it +you in brief. + +He has a very distinguished father and a very noble mother, and he is an +only child, of a very frolicsome disposition, on account of which his +father and his mother frequently disagreed; the father used to punish +him and beat him, but the boy hid with his mother. In a word, it came to +this, that his father gave him into the hands of strangers, to be +educated and put into shape. The mother could not do without him, and +fell sick of grief; she became a wreck. Her beautiful house was burnt +long ago through the boy's doing: one day, when a child, he played with +fire, and there was a conflagration, and the neighbors came and built on +the site of her palace, and she, the invalid, lies neglected in a +corner. The father, who has left the house, often wished to rejoin her, +but by no manner of means can they live together without the son, and so +the cast-off child became a "living orphan"; he roams about in the wide +world, comes to a place, and when he has stayed there a little while, +they drive him out, because wherever he comes, he stirs up a commotion. +As is the way with all orphans, he has many fathers, and everyone +directs him, hits him, lectures him; he is always in the way, blamed for +everything, it's always his fault, so that he has got into the habit of +cowering and shrinking at the mere sight of a stick. Wandering about as +he does, he has copied the manners and customs of strange people, in +every place where he has been; his very character is hardly his own. His +father has tried both to threaten and to persuade him into coming back, +saying they would then all live together as before, but Yuedel has got to +like living from home, he enjoys the scrapes he gets into, and even the +blows they earn for him. No matter how people knock him about, pull his +hair, and draw his blood, the moment they want him to make friendly +advances, there he is again, alert and smiling, turns the world +topsyturvy, and won't hear of going home. It is remarkable that Yuedel, +who is no fool, and has a head for business, the instant people look +kindly on him, imagines they like him, although he has had a thousand +proofs to the contrary. He has lately been of such consequence in the +eyes of the world that they have begun to treat him in a new way, and +they drive him out of every place at once. The poor boy has tried his +best to please, but it was no good, they knocked him about till he was +covered with blood, took every single thing he had, and empty-handed, +naked, hungry, and beaten as he is, they shout at him "Be off!" from +every side. Now he lives in narrow streets, in the small towns, hidden +away in holes and corners. He very often hasn't enough to eat, but he +goes on in his old way, creeps into tight places, dances at all the +weddings, loves to meddle, everything concerns him, and where two come +together, he is the third. + +I have known him a long time, ever since he was a little boy. He always +struck me as being very wild, but I saw that he was of a noble +disposition, only that he had grown rough from living among strangers. I +loved him very much, but in later years he treated me to hot and cold by +turns. I must tell you that when Yuedel had eaten his fill, he was always +very merry, and minded nothing; but when he had been kicked out by his +landlord, and went hungry, then he was angry, and grew violent over +every trifle. He would attack me for nothing at all, we quarrelled and +parted company, that is, I loved him at a distance. When he wasn't just +in my sight, I felt a great pity for him, and a wish to go to him; but +hardly had I met him than he was at the old game again, and I had to +leave him. Now that I was together with him in my native place, I found +him very badly off, he hadn't enough to eat. The town was small and +poor, and he had no means of supporting himself. When I saw him in his +bitter and dark distress, my heart went out to him. But at such times, +as I said before, he is very wild and fanatical. One day, on the Ninth +of Ab, I felt obliged to speak out, and tell him that sitting in socks, +with his forehead on the ground, reciting Lamentations, would do no +good. Yuedel misunderstood me, and thought I was laughing at Jerusalem. +He began to fire up, and he spread reports of me in the town, and when +he saw me in the distance, he would spit out before me. His anger dated +from some time past, because one day I turned him out of my house; he +declared that I was the cause of all his misfortunes, and now that I was +his neighbor, I had resolved to ruin him; he believed that I hated him +and played him false. Why should Yuedel think that? I don't know. +Perhaps he feels one ought to dislike him, or else he is so embittered +that he cannot believe in the kindly feelings of others. However that +may be, Yuedel continued to speak ill of me, and throw mud at me through +the town; crying out all the while that I hadn't a scrap of Jewishness +in me. + +Now that he heard I was buying Palestinian earth, he began by refusing +to believe it, and declared it was a take-in and the trick of an +apostate, for how could a person who laughed at socks on the Ninth of Ab +really want to buy earth of Palestine? But when he saw the green shawls +and the little bags of earth, he went over--a way he has--to the +opposite, the exact opposite. He began to worship me, couldn't praise me +enough, and talked of me in the back streets, so that the women blessed +me aloud. Yuedel was now much given to my company, and often came in to +see me, and was most intimate, although there was no special piousness +about me. I was just the same as before, but Yuedel took this for the +best of signs, and thought it proved me to be of extravagant hidden +piety. + +"There's a Jew for you!" he would cry aloud in the street. "Earth of +Palestine! There's a Jew!" + +In short, he filled the place with my Jewishness and my hidden +orthodoxy. I looked on with indifference, but after a while the affair +began to cost me both time and money. + +The Palestinian beggars and, above all, Yuedel and the townsfolk obtained +for me the reputation of piety, and there came to me orthodox Jews, +treasurers, cabalists, beggar students, and especially the Rebbe's +followers; they came about me like bees. They were never in the habit +of avoiding me, but this was another thing all the same. Before this, +when one of the Rebbe's disciples came, he would enter with a respectful +demeanor, take off his hat, and, sitting in his cap, would fix his gaze +on my mouth with a sweet smile; we both felt that the one and only link +between us lay in the money that I gave and he took. He would take it +gracefully, put it into his purse, as it might be for someone else, and +thank me as though he appreciated my kindness. When _I_ went to see +_him_, he would place a chair for me, and give me preserve. But now he +came to me with a free and easy manner, asked for a sip of brandy with a +snack to eat, sat in my room as if it were his own, and looked at me as +if I were an underling, and he had authority over me; I am the penitent +sinner, it is said, and that signifies for him the key to the door of +repentance; I have entered into his domain, and he is my lord and +master; he drinks my health as heartily as though it were his own, and +when I press a coin into his hand, he looks at it well, to make sure it +is worth his while accepting it. If I happen to visit him, I am on a +footing with all his followers, the Chassidim; his "trustees," and all +his other hangers-on, are my brothers, and come to me when they please, +with all the mud on their boots, put their hand into my bosom and take +out my tobacco-pouch, and give it as their opinion that the brandy is +weak, not to talk of holidays, especially Purim and Rejoicing of the +Law, when they troop in with a great noise and vociferation, and drink +and dance, and pay as much attention to me as to the cat. + +In fact, all the townsfolk took the same liberties with me. Before, they +asked nothing of me, and took me as they found me, now they began to +_demand_ things of me and to inquire why I didn't do this, and why I did +that, and not the other. Shmuelke the bather asked me why I was never +seen at the bath on Sabbath. Kalmann the butcher wanted to know why, +among the scape-fowls, there wasn't a white one of mine; and even the +beadle of the Klaus, who speaks through his nose, and who had never +dared approach me, came and insisted on giving me the thirty-nine +stripes on the eve of the Day of Atonement: "Eh-eh, if you are a Jew +like other Jews, come and lie down, and you shall be given stripes!" + +And the Palestinian Jews never ceased coming with their bags of earth, +and I never ceased rejecting. One day there came a broad-shouldered Jew +from "over there," with his bag of Palestinian earth. The earth pleased +me, and a conversation took place between us on this wise: + +"How much do you want for your earth?" + +"For my earth? From anyone else I wouldn't take less than thirty rubles, +but from you, knowing you and _of_ you as I do, and as your parents did +so much for Palestine, I will take a twenty-five ruble piece. You must +know that a person buys this once and for all." + +"I don't understand you," I answered. "Twenty-five rubles! How much +earth have you there?" + +"How much earth have I? About half a quart. There will be enough to +cover the eyes and the face. Perhaps you want to cover the whole body, +to have it underneath and on the top and at the sides? O, I can bring +you some more, but it will cost you two or three hundred rubles, +because, since the good-for-nothings took to coming to Palestine, the +earth has got very expensive. Believe me, I don't make much by it, it +costs me nearly...." + +"I don't understand you, my friend! What's this about bestrewing the +body? What do you mean by it?" + +"How do you mean, 'what do you mean by it?' Bestrewing the body like +that of all honest Jews, after death." + +"Ha? After death? To preserve it?" + +"Yes, what else?" + +"I don't want it for that, I don't mind what happens to my body after +death. I want to buy Palestinian earth for my lifetime." + +"What do you mean? What good can it do you while you're alive? You are +not talking to the point, or else you are making game of a poor +Palestinian Jew?" + +"I am speaking seriously. I want it now, while I live! What is it you +don't understand?" + +My Palestinian Jew was greatly perplexed, but he quickly collected +himself, and took in the situation. I saw by his artful smile that he +had detected a strain of madness in me, and what should he gain by +leading me into the paths of reason? Rather let him profit by it! And +this he proceeded to do, saying with winning conviction: + +"Yes, of course, you are right! How right you are! May I ever see the +like! People are not wrong when they say, 'The apple falls close to the +tree'! You are drawn to the root, and you love the soil of Palestine, +only in a different way, like your holy forefathers, may they be good +advocates! You are young, and I am old, and I have heard how they used +to bestrew their head-dress with it in their lifetime, so as to fulfil +the Scripture verse, 'And have pity on Zion's dust,' and honest Jews +shake earth of Palestine into their shoes on the eve of the Ninth of Ab, +and at the meal before the fast they dip an egg into Palestinian +earth--nu, fein! I never expected so much of you, and I can say with +truth, 'There's a Jew for you!' Well, in that case, you will require two +pots of the earth, but it will cost you a deal." + +"We are evidently at cross-purposes," I said to him. "What are two +potfuls? What is all this about bestrewing the body? I want to buy +Palestinian earth, earth in Palestine, do you understand? I want to buy, +in Palestine, a little bit of earth, a few dessiatines." + +"Ha? I didn't quite catch it. What did you say?" and my Palestinian Jew +seized hold of his right ear, as though considering what he should do; +then he said cheerfully: "Ha--aha! You mean to secure for yourself a +burial-place, also for after death! O yes, indeed, you are a holy man +and no mistake! Well, you can get that through me, too; give me +something in advance, and I shall manage it for you all right at a +bargain." + +"Why do you go on at me with your 'after death,'" I cried angrily. "I +want a bit of earth in Palestine, I want to dig it, and sow it, and +plant it...." + +"Ha? What? Sow it and plant it?! That is ... that is ... you only mean +... may all bad dreams!..." and stammering thus, he scraped all the +scattered earth, little by little, into his bag, gradually got nearer +the door, and--was gone! + +It was not long before the town was seething and bubbling like a kettle +on the boil, everyone was upset as though by some misfortune, angry with +me, and still more with himself: "How could we be so mistaken? He +doesn't want to buy Palestinian earth at all, he doesn't care what +happens to him when he's dead, he laughs--he only wants to buy earth +_in_ Palestine, and set up villages there." + +"Eh-eh-eh! He remains one of _them_! He is what he is--a skeptic!" so +they said in all the streets, all the householders in the town, the +women in the market-place, at the bath, they went about abstracted, and +as furious as though I had insulted them, made fools of them, taken them +in, and all of a sudden they became cold and distant to me. The pious +Jews were seen no more at my house. I received packages from Palestine +one after the other. One had a black seal, on which was scratched a +black ram's horn, and inside, in large characters, was a ban from the +Brisk Rebbetzin, because of my wishing to make all the Jews unhappy. +Other packets were from different Palestinian beggars, who tried to +compel me, with fair words and foul, to send them money for their +travelling expenses and for the samples of earth they enclosed. My +fellow-townspeople also got packages from "over there," warning them +against me--I was a dangerous man, a missionary, and it was a Mitzveh to +be revenged on me. There was an uproar, and no wonder! A letter from +Palestine, written in Rashi, with large seals! In short I was to be put +to shame and confusion. Everyone avoided me, nobody came near me. When +people were obliged to come to me in money matters or to beg an alms, +they entered with deference, and spoke respectfully, in a gentle voice, +as to "one of them," took the alms or the money, and were out of the +door, behind which they abused me, as usual. + +Only Yuedel did not forsake me. Yuedel, the "living orphan," was +bewildered and perplexed. He had plenty of work, flew from one house to +the other, listening, begging, and talebearing, answering and asking +questions; but he could not settle the matter in his own mind: now he +looked at me angrily, and again with pity. He seemed to wish not to meet +me, and yet he sought occasion to do so, and would look earnestly into +my face. + +The excitement of my neighbors and their behavior to me interested me +very little; but I wanted very much to know the reason why I had +suddenly become abhorrent to them? I could by no means understand it. + +Once there came a wild, dark night. The sky was covered with black +clouds, there was a drenching rain and hail and a stormy wind, it was +pitch dark, and it lightened and thundered, as though the world were +turning upside down. The great thunder claps and the hail broke a good +many people's windows, the wind tore at the roofs, and everyone hid +inside his house, or wherever he found a corner. In that dreadful dark +night my door opened, and in came--Yuedel, the "living orphan"; he looked +as though someone were pushing him from behind, driving him along. He +was as white as the wall, cowering, beaten about, helpless as a leaf. +He came in, and stood by the door, holding his hat; he couldn't decide, +did not know if he should take it off, or not. I had never seen him so +miserable, so despairing, all the time I had known him. I asked him to +sit down, and he seemed a little quieted. I saw that he was soaking wet, +and shivering with cold, and I gave him hot tea, one glass after the +other. He sipped it with great enjoyment. And the sight of him sitting +there sipping and warming himself would have been very comic, only it +was so very sad. The tears came into my eyes. Yuedel began to brighten +up, and was soon Yuedel, his old self, again. I asked him how it was he +had come to me in such a state of gloom and bewilderment? He told me the +thunder and the hail had broken all the window-panes in his lodging, and +the wind had carried away the roof, there was nowhere he could go for +shelter; nobody would let him in at night; there was not a soul he could +turn to, there remained nothing for him but to lie down in the street +and die. + +"And so," he said, "having known you so long, I hoped you would take me +in, although you are 'one of them,' not at all pious, and, so they say, +full of evil intentions against Jews and Jewishness; but I know you are +a good man, and will have compassion on me." + +I forgave Yuedel his rudeness, because I knew him for an outspoken man, +that he was fond of talking, but never did any harm. Seeing him +depressed, I offered him a glass of wine, but he refused it. + +I understood the reason of his refusal, and started a conversation with +him. + +"Tell me, Yuedel heart, how is it I have fallen into such bad repute +among you that you will not even drink a drop of wine in my house? And +why do you say that I am 'one of them,' and not pious? A little while +ago you spoke differently of me." + +"Ett! It just slipped from my tongue, and the truth is you may be what +you please, you are a good man." + +"No, Yuedel, don't try to get out of it! Tell me openly (it doesn't +concern me, but I am curious to know), why this sudden revulsion of +feeling about me, this change of opinion? Tell me, Yuedel, I beg of you, +speak freely!" + +My gentle words and my friendliness gave Yuedel great encouragement. The +poor fellow, with whom not one of "them" has as yet spoken kindly! When +he saw that I meant it, he began to scratch his head; it seemed as if in +that minute he forgave me all my "heresies," and he looked at me kindly, +and as if with pity. Then, seeing that I awaited an answer, he gave a +twist to his earlock, and said gently and sincerely: + +"You wish me to tell you the truth? You insist upon it? You will not be +offended?" + +"You know that I never take offence at anything you say. Say anything +you like, Yuedel heart, only speak." + +"Then I will tell you: the town and everyone else is very angry with you +on account of your Palestinian earth: you want to do something new, buy +earth and plough it and sow--and where? in our land of Israel, in our +Holy Land of Israel!" + +"But why, Yuedel dear, when they thought I was buying Palestinian earth +to bestrew me after death, was I looked upon almost like a saint?" + +"E, that's another thing! That showed that you held Palestine holy, for +a land whose soil preserves one against being eaten of worms, like any +other honest Jew." + +"Well, I ask you, Yuedel, what does this mean? When they thought I was +buying sand for after my death, I was a holy man, a lover of Palestine, +and because I want to buy earth and till it, earth in your Holy Land, +our holy earth in the Holy Land, in which our best and greatest counted +it a privilege to live, I am a blot on Israel. Tell me, Yuedel, I ask +you: _Why_, because one wants to bestrew himself with Palestinian earth +after death, is one an orthodox Jew; and when one desires to give +oneself wholly to Palestine in life, should one be 'one of them'? Now I +ask you--all those Palestinian Jews who came to me with their bags of +sand, and were my very good friends, and full of anxiety to preserve my +body after death, why have they turned against me on hearing that I +wished for a bit of Palestinian earth while I live? Why are they all so +interested and such good brothers to the dead, and such bloodthirsty +enemies to the living? Why, because I wish to provide for my sad +existence, have they noised abroad that I am a missionary, and made up +tales against me? Why? I ask you, why, Yuedel, why?" + +"You ask me? How should I know? I only know that ever since Palestine +was Palestine, people have gone there to die--that I know; but all this +ploughing, sowing, and planting the earth, I never heard of in my life +before." + +"Yes, Yuedel, you are right, because it has been so for a long time, you +think so it has to be--that is the real answer to your questions. But +why not think back a little? Why should one only go to Palestine to die? +Is not Palestinian earth fit to _live_ on? On the contrary, it is some +of the very best soil, and when we till it and plant it, we fulfil the +precept to restore the Holy Land, and we also work for ourselves, toward +the realization of an honest and peaceable life. I won't discuss the +matter at length with you to-day. It seems that you have quite forgotten +what all the holy books say about Palestine, and what a precept it is to +till the soil. And another question, touching what you said about +Palestine being only there to go and die in. Tell me, those Palestinian +Jews who were so interested in my death, and brought earth from over +there to bestrew me--tell me, are they also only there to die? Did you +notice how broad and stout they were? Ha? And they, they too, when they +heard I wanted to live there, fell upon me like wild animals, filling +the world with their cries, and made up the most dreadful stories about +me. Well, what do you say, Yuedel? I ask you." + +"Do I know?" said Yuedel, with a wave of the hand. "Is my head there to +think out things like that? But tell me, I beg, what _is_ the good to +you of buying land in Palestine and getting into trouble all round?" + +"You ask, what is the good to me? I want to live, do you hear? I want to +_live_!" + +"If you can't live without Palestinian earth, why did you not get some +before? Did you never want to live till now?" + +"Oh, Yuedel, you are right there. I confess that till now I have lived in +a delusion, I thought I was living; but--what is the saying?--so long as +the thunder is silent...." + +"Some thunder has struck you!" interrupted Yuedel, looking +compassionately into my face. + +"I will put it briefly. You must know, Yuedel, that I have been in +business here for quite a long time. I worked faithfully, and my chief +was pleased with me. I was esteemed and looked up to, and it never +occurred to me that things would change; but bad men could not bear to +see me doing so well, and they worked hard against me, till one day the +business was taken over by my employer's son; and my enemies profited by +the opportunity, to cover me with calumnies from head to foot, spreading +reports about me which it makes one shudder to hear. This went on till +the chief began to look askance at me. At first I got pin-pricks, +malicious hints, then things got worse and worse, and at last they began +to push me about, and one day they turned me out of the house, and threw +me into a hedge. Presently, when I had reviewed the whole situation, I +saw that they could do what they pleased with me. I had no one to rely +on, my onetime good friends kept aloof from me, I had lost all worth in +their eyes; with some because, as is the way with people, they took no +trouble to inquire into the reason of my downfall, but, hearing all that +was said against me, concluded that I was in the wrong; others, again, +because they wished to be agreeable to my enemies; the rest, for reasons +without number. In short, reflecting on all this, I saw the game was +lost, and there was no saying what might not happen to me! Hitherto I +had borne my troubles patiently, with the courage that is natural to me; +but now I feel my courage giving way, and I am in fear lest I should +fall in my own eyes, in my own estimation, and get to believe that I am +worth nothing. And all this because I must needs resort to _them_, and +take all the insults they choose to fling at me, and every outcast has +me at his mercy. That is why I want to collect my remaining strength, +and buy a parcel of land in Palestine, and, God helping, I will become a +bit of a householder--do you understand?" + +"Why must it be just in Palestine?" + +"Because I may not, and I cannot, buy in anywhere else. I have tried to +find a place elsewhere, but they were afraid I was going to get the +upper hand, so down they came, and made a wreck of it. Over there I +shall be proprietor myself--that is firstly, and secondly, a great many +relations of mine are buried there, in the country where they lived and +died. And although you count me as 'one of them,' I tell you I think a +great deal of 'the merits of the fathers,' and that it is very pleasant +to me to think of living in the land that will remind me of such dear +forefathers. And although it will be hard at first, the recollection of +my ancestors and the thought of providing my children with a corner of +their own and honestly earned bread will give me strength, till I shall +work my way up to something. And I hope I _will_ get to something. +Remember, Yuedel, I believe and I hope! You will see, Yuedel--you know +that our brothers consider Palestinian earth a charm against being +eaten by worms, and you think that I laugh at it? No, I believe in it! +It is quite, quite true that my Palestinian earth will preserve me from +worms, only not after death, no, but alive--from such worms as devour +and gnaw at and poison the whole of life!" + +Yuedel scratched his nose, gave a rub to the cap on his head, and uttered +a deep sigh. + +"Yes, Yuedel, you sigh! Now do you know what I wanted to say to you?" + +"Ett!" and Yuedel made a gesture with his hand. "What you have to say to +me?--ett!" + +"Oi, that 'ett!' of yours! Yuedel, I know it! When you have nothing to +answer, and you ought to think, and think something out, you take refuge +in 'ett!' Just consider for once, Yuedel, I have a plan for you, too. +Remember what you were, and what has become of you. You have been +knocking about, driven hither and thither, since childhood. You haven't +a house, not a corner, you have become a beggar, a tramp, a nobody, +despised and avoided, with unpleasing habits, and living a dog's life. +You have very good qualities, a clear head, and acute intelligence. But +to what purpose do you put them? You waste your whole intelligence on +getting in at backdoors and coaxing a bit of bread out of the +maidservant, and the mistress is not to know. Can you not devise a +means, with that clever brain of yours, how to earn it for yourself? See +here, I am going to buy a bit of ground in Palestine, come with me, +Yuedel, and you shall work, and be a man like other men. You are what +they call a 'living orphan,' because you have many fathers; and don't +forget that you have _one_ Father who lives, and who is only waiting +for you to grow better. Well, how much longer are you going to live +among strangers? Till now you haven't thought, and the life suited you, +you have grown used to blows and contumely. But now that--that--none +will let you in, your eyes must have been opened to see your condition, +and you must have begun to wish to be different. Only begin to wish! You +see, I have enough to eat, and yet my position has become hateful to me, +because I have lost my value, and am in danger of losing my humanity. +But you are hungry, and one of these days you will die of starvation out +in the street. Yuedel, do just think it over, for if I am right, you will +get to be like other people. Your Father will see that you have turned +into a man, he will be reconciled with your mother, and you will be 'a +father's child,' as you were before. Brother Yuedel, think it over!" + +I talked to my Yuedel a long, long time. In the meanwhile, the night had +passed. My Yuedel gave a start, as though waking out of a deep slumber, +and went away full of thought. + +On opening the window, I was greeted by a friendly smile from the rising +morning star, as it peeped out between the clouds. + +And it began to dawn. + + + + +ISAAC LOeB PEREZ + + +Born, 1851, in Samoscz, Government of Lublin, Russian Poland; Jewish, +philosophical, and general literary education; practiced law in Samoscz, +a Hasidic town; clerk to the Jewish congregation in Warsaw and as such +collector of statistics on Jewish life; began to write at twenty-five; +contributor to Zedernbaum's Juedisches Volksblatt; publisher and editor +of Die juedische Bibliothek (4 vols.), in which he conducted the +scientific department, and wrote all the editorials and book reviews, of +Literatur and Leben, and of Yom-tov Blaettlech; now (1912) co-editor of +Der Freind, Warsaw; Hebrew and Yiddish prose writer and poet; +allegorist; collected Hebrew works, 1899-1901; collected Yiddish works, +7 vols., Warsaw and New York, 1909-1912 (in course of publication). + + + + +A WOMAN'S WRATH + + +The small room is dingy as the poverty that clings to its walls. There +is a hook fastened to the crumbling ceiling, relic of a departed hanging +lamp. The old, peeling stove is girded about with a coarse sack, and +leans sideways toward its gloomy neighbor, the black, empty fireplace, +in which stands an inverted cooking pot with a chipped rim. Beside it +lies a broken spoon, which met its fate in unequal contest with the +scrapings of cold, stale porridge. + +The room is choked with furniture; there is a four-post bed with torn +curtains. The pillows visible through their holes have no covers. + +There is a cradle, with the large, yellow head of a sleeping child; a +chest with metal fittings and an open padlock--nothing very precious +left in there, evidently; further, a table and three chairs (originally +painted red), a cupboard, now somewhat damaged. Add to these a pail of +clean water and one of dirty water, an oven rake with a shovel, and you +will understand that a pin could hardly drop onto the floor. + +And yet the room contains _him_ and _her_ beside. + +_She_, a middle-aged Jewess, sits on the chest that fills the space +between the bed and the cradle. + +To her right is the one grimy little window, to her left, the table. She +is knitting a sock, rocking the cradle with her foot, and listens to +_him_ reading the Talmud at the table, with a tearful, Wallachian, +singing intonation, and swaying to and fro with a series of nervous +jerks. Some of the words he swallows, others he draws out; now he snaps +at a word, and now he skips it; some he accentuates and dwells on +lovingly, others he rattles out with indifference, like dried peas out +of a bag. And never quiet for a moment. First he draws from his pocket a +once red and whole handkerchief, and wipes his nose and brow, then he +lets it fall into his lap, and begins twisting his earlocks or pulling +at his thin, pointed, faintly grizzled beard. Again, he lays a +pulled-out hair from the same between the leaves of his book, and slaps +his knees. His fingers coming into contact with the handkerchief, they +seize it, and throw a corner in between his teeth; he bites it, lays one +foot across the other, and continually shuffles with both feet. + +All the while his pale forehead wrinkles, now in a perpendicular, now in +a horizontal, direction, when the long eyebrows are nearly lost below +the folds of skin. At times, apparently, he has a sting in the chest, +for he beats his left side as though he were saying the Al-Chets. +Suddenly he leans his head to the left, presses a finger against his +left nostril, and emits an artificial sneeze, leans his head to the +right, and the proceeding is repeated. In between he takes a pinch of +snuff, pulls himself together, his voice rings louder, the chair creaks, +the table wobbles. + +The child does not wake; the sounds are too familiar to disturb it. + +And she, the wife, shrivelled and shrunk before her time, sits and +drinks in delight. She never takes her eye off her husband, her ear +lets no inflection of his voice escape. Now and then, it is true, she +sighs. Were he as fit for _this_ world as he is for the _other_ world, +she would have a good time of it here, too--here, too-- + +"Ma!" she consoles herself, "who talks of honor? Not every one is worthy +of both tables!" + +She listens. Her shrivelled face alters from minute to minute; she is +nervous, too. A moment ago it was eloquent of delight. Now she remembers +it is Thursday, there isn't a dreier to spend in preparation for +Sabbath. The light in her face goes out by degrees, the smile fades, +then she takes a look through the grimy window, glances at the sun. It +must be getting late, and there isn't a spoonful of hot water in the +house. The needles pause in her hand, a shadow has overspread her face. +She looks at the child, it is sleeping less quietly, and will soon wake. +The child is poorly, and there is not a drop of milk for it. The shadow +on her face deepens into gloom, the needles tremble and move +convulsively. + +And when she remembers that it is near Passover, that her ear-rings and +the festal candlesticks are at the pawnshop, the chest empty, the lamp +sold, then the needles perform murderous antics in her fingers. The +gloom on her brow is that of a gathering thunder-storm, lightnings play +in her small, grey, sunken eyes. + +He sits and "learns," unconscious of the charged atmosphere; does not +see her let the sock fall and begin wringing her finger-joints; does not +see that her forehead is puckered with misery, one eye closed, and the +other fixed on him, her learned husband, with a look fit to send a +chill through his every limb; does not see her dry lips tremble and her +jaw quiver. She controls herself with all her might, but the storm is +gathering fury within her. The least thing, and it will explode. + +That least thing has happened. + +He was just translating a Talmudic phrase with quiet delight, "And +thence we derive that--" He was going on with "three,--" but the word +"derive" was enough, it was the lighted spark, and her heart was the +gunpowder. It was ablaze in an instant. Her determination gave way, the +unlucky word opened the flood-gates, and the waters poured through, +carrying all before them. + +"Derived, you say, derived? O, derived may you be, Lord of the World," +she exclaimed, hoarse with anger, "derived may you be! Yes! You!" she +hissed like a snake. "Passover coming--Thursday--and the child ill--and +not a drop of milk is there. Ha?" + +Her breath gives out, her sunken breast heaves, her eyes flash. + +He sits like one turned to stone. Then, pale and breathless, too, from +fright, he gets up and edges toward the door. + +At the door he turns and faces her, and sees that hand and tongue are +equally helpless from passion; his eyes grow smaller; he catches a bit +of handkerchief between his teeth, retreats a little further, takes a +deeper breath, and mutters: + +"Listen, woman, do you know what Bittul-Torah means? And not letting a +husband study in peace, to be always worrying about livelihood, ha? And +who feeds the little birds, tell me? Always this want of faith in God, +this giving way to temptation, and taking thought for _this_ world ... +foolish, ill-natured woman! Not to let a husband study! If you don't +take care, you will go to Gehenna." + +Receiving no answer, he grows bolder. Her face gets paler and paler, she +trembles more and more violently, and the paler she becomes, and the +more she trembles, the steadier his voice, as he goes on: + +"Gehenna! Fire! Hanging by the tongue! Four death penalties inflicted by +the court!" + +She is silent, her face is white as chalk. + +He feels that he is doing wrong, that he has no call to be cruel, that +he is taking a mean advantage, but he has risen, as it were, to the top, +and is boiling over. He cannot help himself. + +"Do you know," he threatens her, "what Skiloh means? It means stoning, +to throw into a ditch and cover up with stones! Srefoh--burning, that +is, pouring a spoonful of boiling lead into the inside! +Hereg--beheading, that means they cut off your head with a sword! Like +this" (and he passes a hand across his neck). "Then Cheneck--strangling! +Do you hear? To strangle! Do you understand? And all four for making +light of the Torah! For Bittul-Torah!" + +His heart is already sore for his victim, but he is feeling his power +over her for the first time, and it has gone to his head. Silly woman! +He had never known how easy it was to frighten her. + +"That comes of making light of the Torah!" he shouts, and breaks off. +After all, she might come to her senses at any moment, and take up the +broom! He springs back to the table, closes the Gemoreh, and hurries out +of the room. + +"I am going to the house-of-study!" he calls out over his shoulder in a +milder tone, and shuts the door after him. + +The loud voice and the noise of the closing door have waked the sick +child. The heavy-lidded eyes open, the waxen face puckers, and there is +a peevish wail. But she, beside herself, stands rooted to the spot, and +does not hear. + +"Ha!" comes hoarsely at last out of her narrow chest. "So that's it, is +it? Neither this world nor the other. Hanging, he says, stoning, +burning, beheading, strangling, hanging by the tongue, boiling lead +poured into the inside, he says--for making light of the Torah--Hanging, +ha, ha, ha!" (in desperation). "Yes, I'll hang, but _here, here!_ And +soon! What is there to wait for?" + +The child begins to cry louder; still she does not hear. + +"A rope! a rope!" she screams, and stares wildly into every corner. + +"Where is there a rope? I wish he mayn't find a bone of me left! Let me +be rid of _one_ Gehenna at any rate! Let him try it, let him be a mother +for once, see how he likes it! I've had enough of it! Let it be an +atonement! An end, an end! A rope, a rope!!" + +Her last exclamation is like a cry for help from out of a +conflagration. + +She remembers that they _have_ a rope somewhere. Yes, under the +stove--the stove was to have been tied round against the winter. The +rope must be there still. + +She runs and finds the rope, the treasure, looks up at the ceiling--the +hook that held the lamp--she need only climb onto the table. + +She climbs-- + +But she sees from the table that the startled child, weak as it is, has +sat up in the cradle, and is reaching over the side--it is trying to get +out-- + +"Mame, M-mame," it sobs feebly. + +A fresh paroxysm of anger seizes her. + +She flings away the rope, jumps off the table, runs to the child, and +forces its head back into the pillow, exclaiming: + +"Bother the child! It won't even let me hang myself! I can't even hang +myself in peace! It wants to suck. What is the good? You will suck +nothing but poison, poison, out of me, I tell you!" + +"There, then, greedy!" she cries in the same breath, and stuffs her +dried-up breast into his mouth. + +"There, then, suck away--bite!" + + + + +THE TREASURE + + +To sleep, in summer time, in a room four yards square, together with a +wife and eight children, is anything but a pleasure, even on a Friday +night--and Shmerel the woodcutter rises from his bed, though only half +through with the night, hot and gasping, hastily pours some water over +his finger-tips, flings on his dressing-gown, and escapes barefoot from +the parched Gehenna of his dwelling. He steps into the street--all +quiet, all the shutters closed, and over the sleeping town is a distant, +serene, and starry sky. He feels as if he were all alone with God, +blessed is He, and he says, looking up at the sky, "Now, Lord of the +Universe, now is the time to hear me and to bless me with a treasure out +of Thy treasure-house!" + +As he says this, he sees something like a little flame coming along out +of the town, and he knows, That is it! He is about to pursue it, when he +remembers it is Sabbath, when one mustn't turn. So he goes after it +walking. And as he walks slowly along, the little flame begins to move +slowly, too, so that the distance between them does not increase, though +it does not shorten, either. He walks on. Now and then an inward voice +calls to him: "Shmerel, don't be a fool! Take off the dressing-gown. +Give a jump and throw it over the flame!" But he knows it is the Evil +Inclination speaking. He throws off the dressing-gown onto his arm, but +to spite the Evil Inclination he takes still smaller steps, and +rejoices to see that, as soon as he takes these smaller steps, the +little flame moves more slowly, too. + +Thus he follows the flame, and follows it, till he gradually finds +himself outside the town. The road twists and turns across fields and +meadows, and the distance between him and the flame grows no longer, no +shorter. Were he to throw the dressing-gown, it would not reach the +flame. Meantime the thought revolves in his mind: Were he indeed to +become possessed of the treasure, he need no longer be a woodcutter, +now, in his later years; he has no longer the strength for the work he +had once. He would rent a seat for his wife in the women's Shool, so +that her Sabbaths and holidays should not be spoiled by their not +allowing her to sit here or to sit there. On New Year's Day and the Day +of Atonement it is all she can do to stand through the service. Her many +children have exhausted her! And he would order her a new dress, and buy +her a few strings of pearls. The children should be sent to better +Chedorim, and he would cast about for a match for his eldest girl. As it +is, the poor child carries her mother's fruit baskets, and never has +time so much as to comb her hair thoroughly, and she has long, long +plaits, and eyes like a deer. + +"It would be a meritorious act to pounce upon the treasure!" + +The Evil Inclination again, he thinks. If it is not to be, well, then it +isn't! If it were in the week, he would soon know what to do! Or if his +Yainkel were there, he would have had something to say. Children +nowadays! Who knows what they don't do on Sabbath, as it is! And the +younger one is no better: he makes fun of the teacher in Cheder. When +the teacher is about to administer a blow, they pull his beard. And +who's going to find time to see after them--chopping and sawing a whole +day through. + +He sighs and walks on and on, now and then glancing up into the sky: +"Lord of the Universe, of whom are you making trial? Shmerel Woodcutter? +If you do mean to give me the treasure, _give_ it me!" It seems to him +that the flame proceeds more slowly, but at this very moment he hears a +dog bark, and it has a bark he knows--that is the dog in Vissoke. +Vissoke is the first village you come to on leaving the town, and he +sees white patches twinkle in the dewy morning atmosphere, those are the +Vissoke peasant cottages. Then it occurs to him that he has gone a +Sabbath day's journey, and he stops short. + +"Yes, I have gone a Sabbath day's journey," he thinks, and says, +speaking into the air: "You won't lead me astray! It is _not_ a +God-send! God does not make sport of us--it is the work of a demon." And +he feels a little angry with the thing, and turns and hurries toward the +town, thinking: "I won't say anything about it at home, because, first, +they won't believe me, and if they do, they'll laugh at me. And what +have I done to be proud of? The Creator knows how it was, and that is +enough for me. Besides, _she_ might be angry, who can tell? The children +are certainly naked and barefoot, poor little things! Why should they be +made to transgress the command to honor one's father?" + +No, he won't breathe a word. He won't even ever remind the Almighty of +it. If he really has been good, the Almighty will remember without being +told. + +And suddenly he is conscious of a strange, lightsome, inward calm, and +there is a delicious sensation in his limbs. Money is, after all, dross, +riches may even lead a man from the right way, and he feels inclined to +thank God for not having brought him into temptation by granting him his +wish. He would like, if only--to sing a song! "Our Father, our King" is +one he remembers from his early years, but he feels ashamed before +himself, and breaks off. He tries to recollect one of the cantor's +melodies, a Sinai tune--when suddenly he sees that the identical little +flame which he left behind him is once more preceding him, and moving +slowly townward, townward, and the distance between them neither +increases nor diminishes, as though the flame were taking a walk, and he +were taking a walk, just taking a little walk in honor of Sabbath. He is +glad in his heart and watches it. The sky pales, the stars begin to go +out, the east flushes, a narrow pink stream flows lengthwise over his +head, and still the flame flickers onward into the town, enters his own +street. There is his house. The door, he sees, is open. Apparently he +forgot to shut it. And, lo and behold! the flame goes in, the flame goes +in at his own house door! He follows, and sees it disappear beneath the +bed. All are asleep. He goes softly up to the bed, stoops down, and sees +the flame spinning round underneath it, like a top, always in the same +place; takes his dressing-gown, and throws it down under the bed, and +covers up the flame. No one hears him, and now a golden morning beam +steals in through the chink in the shutter. + +He sits down on the bed, and makes a vow not to say a word to anyone +till Sabbath is over--not half a word, lest it cause desecration of the +Sabbath. _She_ could never hold her tongue, and the children certainly +not; they would at once want to count the treasure, to know how much +there was, and very soon the secret would be out of the house and into +the Shool, the house-of-study, and all the streets, and people would +talk about his treasure, about luck, and people would not say their +prayers, or wash their hands, or say grace, as they should, and he would +have led his household and half the town into sin. No, not a whisper! +And he stretches himself out on the bed, and pretends to be asleep. + +And this was his reward: When, after concluding the Sabbath, he stooped +down and lifted up the dressing-gown under the bed, there lay a sack +with a million of gulden, an almost endless number--the bed was a large +one--and he became one of the richest men in the place. + +And he lived happily all the years of his life. + +Only, his wife was continually bringing up against him: "Lord of the +World, how could a man have such a heart of stone, as to sit a whole +summer day and not say a word, not a word, not to his own wife, not one +single word! And there was I" (she remembers) "crying over my prayer as +I said God of Abraham--and crying so--for there wasn't a dreier left in +the house." + +Then he consoles her, and says with a smile: + +"Who knows? Perhaps it was all thanks to your 'God of Abraham' that it +went off so well." + + + + +IT IS WELL + + +You ask how it is that I remained a Jew? Whose merit it is? + +Not through my own merits nor those of my ancestors. I was a +six-year-old Cheder boy, my father a countryman outside Wilna, a +householder in a small way. + +No, I remained a Jew thanks to the Schpol Grandfather. + +How do I come to mention the Schpol Grandfather? What has the Schpol +Grandfather to do with it, you ask? + +The Schpol Grandfather was no Schpol Grandfather then. He was a young +man, suffering exile from home and kindred, wandering with a troop of +mendicants from congregation to congregation, from friendly inn to +friendly inn, in all respects one of them. What difference his heart may +have shown, who knows? And after these journeyman years, the time of +revelation had not come even yet. He presented himself to the Rabbinical +Board in Wilna, took out a certificate, and became a Shochet in a +village. He roamed no more, but remained in the neighborhood of Wilna. +The Misnagdim, however, have a wonderful _flair_, and they suspected +something, began to worry and calumniate him, and finally they denounced +him to the Rabbinical authorities as a transgressor of the Law, of the +whole Law! What Misnagdim are capable of, to be sure! + +As I said, I was then six years old. He used to come to us to slaughter +small cattle, or just to spend the night, and I was very fond of him. +Whom else, except my father and mother, should I have loved? I had a +teacher, a passionate man, a destroyer of souls, and this other was a +kind and genial creature, who made you feel happy if he only looked at +you. The calumnies did their work, and they took away his certificate. +My teacher must have had a hand in it, because he heard of it before +anyone, and the next time the Shochet came, he exclaimed "Apostate!" +took him by the scruff of his coat, and bundled him out of the house. It +cut me to the heart like a knife, only I was frightened to death of the +teacher, and never stirred. But a little later, when the teacher was +looking away, I escaped and began to run after the Shochet across the +road, which, not far from the house, lost itself in a wood that +stretched all the way to Wilna. What exactly I proposed to do to help +him, I don't know, but something drove me after the poor Shochet. I +wanted to say good-by to him, to have one more look into his nice, +kindly eyes. + +But I ran and ran, and hurt my feet against the stones in the road, and +saw no one. I went to the right, down into the wood, thinking I would +rest a little on the soft earth of the wood. I was about to sit down, +when I heard a voice (it sounded like his voice) farther on in the wood, +half speaking and half singing. I went softly towards the voice, and saw +him some way off, where he stood swaying to and fro under a tree. I went +up to him--he was reciting the Song of Songs. I look closer and see that +the tree under which he stands is different from the other trees. The +others are still bare of leaves, and this one is green and in full leaf, +it shines like the sun, and stretches its flowery branches over the +Shochet's head like a tent. And a quantity of birds hop among the twigs +and join in singing the Song of Songs. I am so astonished that I stand +there with open mouth and eyes, rooted like the trees. + +He ends his chant, the tree is extinguished, the little birds are +silent, and he turns to me, and says affectionately: + +"Listen, Yuedele,"--Yuedel is my name--"I have a request to make of you." + +"Really?" I answer joyfully, and I suppose he wishes me to bring him out +some food, and I am ready to run and bring him our whole Sabbath dinner, +when he says to me: + +"Listen, keep what you saw to yourself." + +This sobers me, and I promise seriously and faithfully to hold my +tongue. + +"Listen again. You are going far away, very far away, and the road is a +long road." + +I wonder, however should I come to travel so far? And he goes on to say: + +"They will knock the Rebbe's Torah out of your head, and you will forget +Father and Mother, but see you keep to your name! You are called +Yuedel--remain a Jew!" + +I am frightened, but cry out from the bottom of my heart: + +"Surely! As surely may I live!" + +Then, because my own idea clung to me, I added: + +"Don't you want something to eat?" + +And before I finished speaking, he had vanished. + +The second week after they fell upon us and led me away as a Cantonist, +to be brought up among the Gentiles and turned into a soldier. + + * * * * * + +Time passed, and I forgot everything, as he had foretold. They knocked +it all out of my head. + +I served far away, deep in Russia, among snows and terrific frosts, and +never set eyes on a Jew. There may have been hidden Jews about, but I +knew nothing of them, I knew nothing of Sabbath and festival, nothing of +any fast. I forgot everything. + +But I held fast to my name! + +I did not change my coin. + +The more I forgot, the more I was inclined to be quit of my torments and +trials--to make an end of them by agreeing to a Christian name, but +whenever the bad thought came into my head, he appeared before me, the +same Shochet, and I heard his voice say to me, "Keep your name, remain a +Jew!" + +And I knew for certain that it was no empty dream, because every time I +saw him _older_ and _older_, his beard and earlocks greyer, his face +paler. Only his eyes remained the same kind eyes, and his voice, which +sounded like a violin, never altered. + +Once they flogged me, and he stood by and wiped the cold sweat off my +forehead, and stroked my face, and said softly: "Don't cry out! We ought +to suffer! Remain a Jew," and I bore it without a cry, without a moan, +as though they had been flogging _not_-me. + + * * * * * + +Once, during the last year, I had to go as a sentry to a public house +behind the town. It was evening, and there was a snow-storm. The wind +lifted patches of snow, and ground them to needles, rubbed them to dust, +and this snow-dust and these snow-needles were whirled through the air, +flew into one's face and pricked--you couldn't keep an eye open, you +couldn't draw your breath! Suddenly I saw some people walking past me, +not far away, and one of them said in Yiddish, "This is the first night +of Passover." Whether it was a voice from God, or whether some people +really passed me, to this day I don't know, but the words fell upon my +heart like lead, and I had hardly reached the tavern and begun to walk +up and down, when a longing came over me, a sort of heartache, that is +not to be described. I wanted to recite the Haggadah, and not a word of +it could I recall! Not even the Four Questions I used to ask my father. +I felt it all lay somewhere deep down in my heart. I used to know so +much of it, when I was only six years old. I felt, if only I could have +recalled one simple word, the rest would have followed and risen out of +my memory one after the other, like sleepy birds from beneath the snow. +But that one first word is just what I cannot remember! Lord of the +Universe, I cried fervently, one word, only one word! As it seems, I +made my prayer in a happy hour, for "we were slaves" came into my head +just as if it had been thrown down from Heaven. I was overjoyed! I was +so full of joy that I felt it brimming over. And then the rest all came +back to me, and as I paced up and down on my watch, with my musket on my +shoulder, I recited and sang the Haggadah to the snowy world around. I +drew it out of me, word after word, like a chain of golden links, like +a string of pearls. O, but you won't understand, you couldn't +understand, unless you had been taken away there, too! + +The wind, meanwhile, had fallen, the snow-storm had come to an end, and +there appeared a clear, twinkling sky, and a shining world of diamonds. +It was silent all round, and ever so wide, and ever so white, with a +sweet, peaceful, endless whiteness. And over this calm, wide, whiteness, +there suddenly appeared something still whiter, and lighter, and +brighter, wrapped in a robe and a prayer-scarf, the prayer-scarf over +its shoulders, and over the prayer-scarf, in front, a silvery white +beard; and above the beard, two shining eyes, and above them, a +sparkling crown, a cap with gold and silver ornaments. And it came +nearer and nearer, and went past me, but as it passed me it said: + +"It is well!" + +It sounded like a violin, and then the figure vanished. + +But it was the same eyes, the same voice. + +I took Schpol on my way home, and went to see the Old Man, for the Rebbe +of Schpol was called by the people Der Alter, the "Schpol Grandfather." + +And I recognized him again, and he recognized me! + + + + +WHENCE A PROVERB + + +"Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim," is a Jewish proverb, and +people ought to know whence it comes. + +In the days of the famous scholar, Reb Chayyim Vital, there lived in +Safed, in Palestine, a young man who (not of us be it spoken!) had not +been married a year before he became a widower. God's ways are not to be +understood. Such things will happen. But the young man was of the +opinion that the world, in as far as he was concerned, had come to an +end; that, as there is one sun in heaven, so his wife had been the one +woman in the world. So he went and sold all the merchandise in his +little shop and all the furniture of his room, and gave the proceeds to +the head of the Safed Academy, the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, on condition that +he should be taken into the Yeshiveh and fed with the other scholars, +and that he should have a room to himself, where he might sit and learn +Torah. + +The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh took the money for the Academy, and they +partitioned off a little room for the young man with some boards, in a +corner of the attic of the house-of-study. They carried in a sack with +straw, and vessels for washing, and the young man sat himself down to +the Talmud. Except on Sabbaths and holidays, when the householders +invited him to dinner, he never set eyes on a living creature. Food +sufficient for the day, and a clean shirt in honor of Sabbaths and +festivals, were carried up to him by the beadle, and whenever he heard +steps on the stair, he used to turn away, and stand with his face to the +wall, till whoever it was had gone out again and shut the door. + +In a word, he became a Porush, for he lived separate from the world. + +At first people thought he wouldn't persevere long, because he was a +lively youth by nature; but as week after week went by, and the Porush +sat and studied, and the tearful voice in which he intoned the Gemoreh +was heard in the street half through the night, or else he was seen at +the attic window, his pale face raised towards the sky, then they began +to believe in him, and they hoped he might in time become a mighty man +in Israel, and perhaps even a wonderworker. They said so to the Rebbe, +Chayyim Vital, but he listened, shook his head, and replied, "God grant +it may last." + +Meantime a little "wonder" really happened. The beadle's little +daughter, who used sometimes to carry up the Porush's food for her +father, took it into her head that she must have one look at the Porush. +What does she? Takes off her shoes and stockings, and carries the food +to him barefoot, so noiselessly that she heard her own heart beat. But +the beating of her heart frightened her so much that she fell down half +the stairs, and was laid up for more than a month in consequence. In her +fever she told the whole story, and people began to believe in the +Porush more firmly than ever and to wait with increasing impatience till +he should become famous. + +They described the occurrence to Reb Chayyim Vital, and again he shook +his head, and even sighed, and answered, "God grant he may be +victorious!" And when they pressed him for an explanation of these +words, Reb Chayyim answered, that as the Porush had left the world, not +so much for the sake of Heaven as on account of his grief for his wife, +it was to be feared that he would be sorely beset and tempted by the +"Other Side," and God grant he might not stumble and fall. + + * * * * * + +And Reb Chayyim Vital never spoke without good reason! + +One day the Porush was sitting deep in a book, when he heard something +tapping at the door, and fear came over him. But as the tapping went on, +he rose, forgetting to close his book, went and opened the door--and in +walks a turkey. He lets it in, for it occurs to him that it would be +nice to have a living thing in the room. The turkey walks past him, and +goes and settles down quietly in a corner. And the Porush wonders what +this may mean, and sits down again to his book. Sitting there, he +remembers that it is going on for Purim. Has someone sent him a turkey +out of regard for his study of the Torah? What shall he do with the +turkey? Should anyone, he reflects, ask him to dinner, supposing it were +to be a poor man, he would send him the turkey on the eve of Purim, and +then he would satisfy himself with it also. He has not once tasted +fowl-meat since he lost his wife. Thinking thus, he smacked his lips, +and his mouth watered. He threw a glance at the turkey, and saw it +looking at him in a friendly way, as though it had quite understood his +intention, and was very glad to think it should have the honor of being +eaten by a Porush. He could not restrain himself, but was continually +lifting his eyes from his book to look at the turkey, till at last he +began to fancy the turkey was smiling at him. This startled him a +little, but all the same it made him happy to be smiled at by a living +creature. + +The same thing happened at Minchah and Maariv. In the middle of the +Eighteen Benedictions, he could not for the life of him help looking +round every minute at the turkey, who continued to smile and smile. +Suddenly it seemed to him, he knew that smile well--the Almighty, who +had taken back his wife, had now sent him her smile to comfort him in +his loneliness, and he began to love the turkey. He thought how much +better it would be, if a _rich_ man were to invite him at Purim, so that +the turkey might live. + +And he thought it in a propitious moment, as we shall presently see, but +meantime they brought him, as usual, a platter of groats with a piece of +bread, and he washed his hands, and prepared to eat. + +No sooner, however, had he taken the bread into his hand, and was about +to bite into it, than the turkey moved out of its corner, and began +peck, peck, peck, towards the bread, by way of asking for some, and as +though to say it was hungry, too, and came and stood before him near the +table. The Porush thought, "He'd better have some, I don't want to be +unkind to him, to tease him," and he took the bread and the platter of +porridge, and set it down on the floor before the turkey, who pecked and +supped away to its heart's content. + +Next day the Porush went over to the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, and told him how +he had come to have a fellow-lodger; he used always to leave some +porridge over, and to-day he didn't seem to have had enough. The Rosh +ha-Yeshiveh saw a hungry face before him. He said he would tell this to +the Rebbe, Chayyim Vital, so that he might pray, and the evil spirit, if +such indeed it was, might depart. Meantime he would give orders for two +pieces of bread and two plates of porridge to be taken up to the attic, +so that there should be enough for both, the Porush and the turkey. Reb +Chayyim Vital, however, to whom the story was told in the name of the +Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, shook his head, and declared with a deep sigh that +this was only the beginning! + +Meanwhile the Porush received a double portion and was satisfied, and +the turkey was satisfied, too. The turkey even grew fat. And in a couple +of weeks or so the Porush had become so much attached to the turkey that +he prayed every day to be invited for Purim by a _rich_ man, so that he +might not be tempted to destroy it. + +And, as we intimated, _that_ temptation, anyhow, was spared him, for he +was invited to dinner by one of the principal householders in the place, +and there was not only turkey, but every kind of tasty dish, and wine +fit for a king. And the best Purim-players came to entertain the rich +man, his family, and the guests who had come to him after their feast at +home. And our Porush gave himself up to enjoyment, and ate and drank. +Perhaps he even drank rather more than he ate, for the wine was sweet +and grateful to the taste, and the warmth of it made its way into every +limb. + +Then suddenly a change came over him. + +The Ahasuerus-Esther play had begun. Vashti will not do the king's +pleasure and come in to the banquet as God made her. Esther soon finds +favor in her stead, she is given over to Hegai, the keeper of the women, +to be purified, six months with oil of myrrh and six months with other +sweet perfumes. And our Porush grew hot all over, and it was dark before +his eyes; then red streaks flew across his field of vision, like tongues +of fire, and he was overcome by a strange, wild longing to be back at +home, in the attic of the house-of-study--a longing for his own little +room, his quiet corner, a longing for the turkey, and he couldn't bear +it, and even before they had said grace he jumped up and ran away home. + +He enters his room, looks into the corner habitually occupied by the +turkey, and stands amazed--the turkey has turned into a woman, a most +beautiful woman, such as the world never saw, and he begins to tremble +all over. And she comes up to him, and takes him around the neck with +her warm, white, naked arms, and the Porush trembles more and more, and +begs, "Not here, not here! It is a holy place, there are holy books +lying about." Then she whispers into his ear that she is the Queen of +Sheba, that she lives not far from the house-of-study, by the river, +among the tall reeds, in a palace of crystal, given her by King Solomon. +And she draws him along, she wants him to go with her to her palace. + +And he hesitates and resists--and he goes. + +Next day, there was no turkey, and no Porush, either! + +They went to Reb Chayyim Vital, who told them to look for him along the +bank of the river, and they found him in a swamp among the tall reeds, +more dead than alive. + +They rescued him and brought him round, but from that day he took to +drink. + +And Reb Chayyim Vital said, it all came from his great longing for the +Queen of Sheba, that when he drank, he saw her; and they were to let him +drink, only not at Purim, because at that time she would have great +power over him. + +Hence the proverb, "Drunk all the year round, sober at Purim." + + + + +MORDECAI SPEKTOR + + +Born, 1859, in Uman, Government of Kieff, Little Russia; education +Hasidic; entered business in 1878; wrote first sketch, A Roman ohn +Liebe, in 1882; contributor to Zedernbaum's Juedisches Volksblatt, +1884-1887; founded, in 1888, and edited Der Hausfreund, at Warsaw; +editor of Warsaw daily papers, Unser Leben, and (at present, 1912) Dos +neie Leben; writer of novels, historical romances, and sketches in +Yiddish; contributor to numerous periodicals; compiled a volume of more +than two thousand Jewish proverbs. + + + + +AN ORIGINAL STRIKE + + +I was invited to a wedding. + +Not a wedding at which ladies wore low dress, and scattered powder as +they walked, and the men were in frock-coats and white gloves, and had +waxed moustaches. + +Not a wedding where you ate of dishes with outlandish names, according +to a printed card, and drank wine dating, according to the label, from +the reign of King Sobieski, out of bottles dingy with the dust of +yesterday. + +No, but a Jewish wedding, where the men, women, and girls wore the +Sabbath and holiday garments in which they went to Shool; a wedding +where you whet your appetite with sweet-cakes and apple-tart, and sit +down to Sabbath fish, with fresh rolls, golden soup, stuffed fowl, and +roast duck, and the wine is in large, clear, white bottles; a wedding +with a calling to the Reading of the Torah of the bridegroom, a party on +the Sabbath preceding the wedding, a good-night-play performed by the +musicians, and a bridegroom's-dinner in his native town, with a table +spread for the poor. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik Berkover had made a feast for the poor at the wedding +of each of his children, and now, on the occasion of the marriage of his +youngest daughter, he had invited all the poor of the little town +Lipovietz to his village home, where he had spent all his life. + +It is the day of the ceremony under the canopy, two o'clock in the +afternoon, and the poor, sent for early in the morning by a messenger, +with the three great wagons, are not there. Lipovietz is not more than +five versts away--what can have happened? The parents of the bridal +couple and the assembled guests wait to proceed with the ceremony. + +At last the messenger comes riding on a horse unharnessed from his +vehicle, but no poor. + +"Why have you come back alone?" demands Reb Yitzchok-Aizik. + +"They won't come!" replies the messenger. + +"What do you mean by 'they won't come'?" asked everyone in surprise. + +"They say that unless they are given a kerbel apiece, they won't come to +the wedding." + +All laugh, and the messenger goes on: + +"There was a wedding with a dinner to the poor in Lipovietz to-day, too, +and they have eaten and drunk all they can, and now they've gone on +strike, and declare that unless they are promised a kerbel a head, they +won't move from the spot. The strike leaders are the Crooked Man with +two crutches, Mekabbel the Long, Feitel the Stammerer, and Yainkel +Fonfatch; the others would perhaps have come, but these won't let them. +So I didn't know what to do. I argued a whole hour, and got nothing by +it, so then I unharnessed a horse, and came at full speed to know what +was to be done." + +We of the company could not stop laughing, but Reb Yitzchok-Aizik was +very angry. + +"Well, and you bargained with them? Won't they come for less?" he asked +the messenger. + +"Yes, I bargained, and they won't take a kopek less." + +"Have their prices gone up so high as all that?" exclaimed Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, with a satirical laugh. "Why did you leave the wagons? +We shall do without the tramps, that's all!" + +"How could I tell? I didn't know what to do. I was afraid you would be +displeased. Now I'll go and fetch the wagons back." + +"Wait! Don't be in such a hurry, take time!" + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik began consulting with the company and with himself. + +"What an idea! Who ever heard of such a thing? Poor people telling me +what to do, haggling with me over my wanting to give them a good dinner +and a nice present each, and saying they must be paid in rubles, +otherwise it's no bargain, ha! ha! For two guldens each it's not worth +their while? It cost them too much to stock the ware? Thirty kopeks +wouldn't pay them? I like their impertinence! Mischief take them, I +shall do without them! + +"Let the musicians play! Where is the beadle? They can begin putting the +veil on the bride." + +But directly afterwards he waved his hands. + +"Wait a little longer. It is still early. Why should it happen to _me_, +why should my pleasure be spoilt? Now I've got to marry my youngest +daughter without a dinner to the poor! I would have given them half a +ruble each, it's not the money I mind, but fancy bargaining with me! +Well, there, I have done my part, and if they won't come, I'm sure +they're not wanted; afterwards they'll be sorry; they don't get a +wedding like this every day. We shall do without them." + +"Well, can they put the veil on the bride?" the beadle came and +inquired. + +"Yes, they can.... No, tell them to wait a little longer!" + +Nearly all the guests, who were tired of waiting, cried out that the +tramps could very well be missed. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik's face suddenly assumed another expression, the anger +vanished, and he turned to me and a couple, of other friends, and asked +if we would drive to the town, and parley with the revolted +almsgatherers. + +"He has no brains, one can't depend on him," he said, referring to the +messenger. + +A horse was harnessed to a conveyance, and we drove off, followed by the +mounted messenger. + +"A revolt--a strike of almsgatherers, how do you like that?" we asked +one another all the way. We had heard of workmen striking, refusing to +work except for a higher wage, and so forth, but a strike of +paupers--paupers insisting on larger alms as pay for eating a free +dinner, such a thing had never been known. + +In twenty minutes time we drove into Lipovietz. + +In the market-place, in the centre of the town, stood the three great +peasant wagons, furnished with fresh straw. The small horses were +standing unharnessed, eating out of their nose-bags; round the wagons +were a hundred poor folk, some dumb, others lame, the greater part +blind, and half the town urchins with as many men. + +All of them were shouting and making a commotion. + +The Crooked One sat on a wagon, and banged it with his crutches; Long +Mekabbel, with a red plaster on his neck, stood beside him. + +These two leaders of the revolt were addressing the people, the meek of +the earth. + +"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Long Mekabbel, as he caught sight of us and the +messenger, "they have come to beg our acceptance!" + +"To beg our acceptance!" shouted the Crooked One, and banged his crutch. + +"Why won't you come to the wedding, to the dinner?" we inquired. +"Everyone will be given alms." + +"How much?" they asked all together. + +"We don't know, but you will take what they offer." + +"Will they give it us in kerblech? Because, if not, we don't go." + +"There will be a hole in the sky if you don't go," cried some of the +urchins present. + +The almsgatherers threw themselves on the urchins with their sticks, and +there was a bit of a row. + +Mekabbel the Long, standing on the cart, drew himself to his full +height, and began to shout: + +"Hush, hush, hush! Quiet, you crazy cripples! One can't hear oneself +speak! Let us hear what those have to say who are worth listening to!" +and he turned to us with the words: + +"You must know, dear Jews, that unless they distribute kerblech among +us, we shall not budge. Never you fear! Reb Yitzchok-Aizik won't marry +his youngest daughter without us, and where is he to get others of us +now? To send to Lunetz would cost him more in conveyances, and he would +have to put off the marriage." + +"What do they suppose? That because we are poor people they can do what +they please with us?" and a new striker hitched himself up by the +wheel, blind of one eye, with a tied-up jaw. "No one can oblige us to +go, even the chief of police and the governor cannot force us--either +it's kerblech, or we stay where we are." + +"K-ke-kkerb-kkerb-lech!!" came from Feitel the Stammerer. + +"Nienblech!" put in Yainkel Fonfatch, speaking through his small nose. +"No, more!" called out a couple of merry paupers. + +"Kerblech, kerblech!" shouted the rest in concert. + +And through their shouting and their speeches sounded such a note of +anger and of triumph, it seemed as though they were pouring out all the +bitterness of soul collected in the course of their sad and luckless +lives. + +They had always kept silence, had _had_ to keep silence, _had_ to +swallow the insults offered them along with the farthings, and the dry +bread, and the scraped bones, and this was the first time they had been +able to retaliate, the first time they had known how it felt to be +entreated by the fortunate in all things, and they were determined to +use their opportunity of asserting themselves to the full, to take their +revenge. In the word kerblech lay the whole sting of their resentment. + +And while we talked and reasoned with them, came a second messenger from +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik, to say that the paupers were to come at once, and +they would be given a ruble each. + +There was a great noise and scrambling, the three wagons filled with +almsgatherers, one crying out, "O my bad hand!" another, "O my foot!" +and a third, "O my poor bones!" The merry ones made antics, and sang in +their places, while the horses were put in, and the procession started +at a cheerful trot. The urchins gave a great hurrah, and threw little +stones after it, with squeals and whistles. + +The poor folks must have fancied they were being pelted with flowers and +sent off with songs, they looked so happy in the consciousness of their +victory. + +For the first and perhaps the last time in their lives, they had spoken +out, and got their own way. + +After the "canopy" and the chicken soup, that is, at "supper," tables +were spread for the friends of the family and separate ones for the +almsgatherers. + +Reb Yitzchok-Aizik and the members of his own household served the poor +with their own hands, pressing them to eat and drink. + +"Le-Chayyim to you, Reb Yitzchok-Aizik! May you have pleasure in your +children, and be a great man, a great rich man!" desired the poor. + +"Long life, long life to all of you, brethren! Drink in health, God help +All-Israel, and you among them!" replied Reb Yitzchok-Aizik. + +After supper the band played, and the almsgatherers, with Reb +Yitzchok-Aizik, danced merrily in a ring round the bridegroom. + +Then who was so happy as Reb Yitzchok-Aizik? He danced in the ring, the +silk skirts of his long coat flapped and flew like eagles' wings, tears +of joy fell from his shining eyes, and his spirits rose to the seventh +heaven. + +He laughed and cried like a child, and exchanged embraces with the +almsgatherers. + +"Brothers!" he exclaimed as he danced, "let us be merry, let us be Jews! +Musicians, give us something cheerful--something gayer, livelier, +louder!" + +"This is what you call a Jewish wedding!" + +"This is how a Jew makes merry!" + +So the guests and the almsgatherers clapped their hands in time to the +music. + +Yes, dear readers, it _was_ what I call a Jewish Wedding! + + + + +A GLOOMY WEDDING + + +They handed Gittel a letter that had come by post, she put on her +spectacles, sat down by the window, and began to read. + +She read, and her face began to shine, and the wrinkled skin took on a +little color. It was plain that what she read delighted her beyond +measure, she devoured the words, caught her breath, and wept aloud in +the fulness of her joy. + +"At last, at last! Blessed be His dear Name, whom I am not worthy to +mention! I do not know, Gottinyu, how to thank Thee for the mercy Thou +hast shown me. Beile! Where is Beile? Where is Yossel? Children! Come, +make haste and wish me joy, a great joy has befallen us! Send for +Avremele, tell him to come with Zlatke and all the children." + +Thus Gittel, while she read the letter, never ceased calling every one +into the room, never ceased reading and calling, calling and reading, +and devouring the words as she read. + +Every soul who happened to be at home came running. + +"Good luck to you! Good luck to us all! Moishehle has become engaged in +Warsaw, and invites us all to the wedding," Gittel explained. "There, +read the letter, Lord of the World, may it be in a propitious hour, may +we all have comfort in one another, may we hear nothing but good news of +one another and of All-Israel! Read it, read it, children! He writes +that he has a very beautiful bride, well-favored, with a large dowry. +Lord of the World, I am not worthy of the mercy Thou hast shown me!" +repeated Gittel over and over, as she paced the room with uplifted +hands, while her daughter Beile took up the letter in her turn. The +children and everyone in the house, including the maid from the kitchen, +with rolled-up sleeves and wet hands, encircled Beile as she read aloud. + +"Read louder, Beiletshke, so that I can hear, so that we can all hear," +begged Gittel, and there were tears of happiness in her eyes. + +The children jumped for joy to see Grandmother so happy. The word +"wedding," which Beile read out of the letter, contained a promise of +all delightful things: musicians, pancakes, new frocks and suits, and +they could not keep themselves from dancing. The maid, too, was heartily +pleased, she kept on singing out, "Oi, what a bride, beautiful as gold!" +and did not know what to be doing next--should she go and finish cooking +the dinner, or should she pull down her sleeves and make holiday? + +The hiss of a pot boiling over in the kitchen interrupted the +letter-reading, and she was requested to go and attend to it forthwith. + +"The bride sends us a separate greeting, long life to her, may she live +when my bones are dust. Let us go to the provisor, he shall read it; it +is written in French." + +The provisor, the apothecary's foreman, who lived in the same house, +said the bride's letter was not written in French, but in Polish, that +she called Gittel her second mother, that she loved her son Moses as her +life, that he was her world, that she held herself to be the most +fortunate of girls, since God had given her Moses, that Gittel (once +more!) was her second mother, and she felt like a dutiful daughter +towards her, and hoped that Gittel would love her as her own child. + +The bride declared further that she kissed her new sister, Beile, a +thousand times, together with Zlatke and their husbands and children, +and she signed herself "Your forever devoted and loving daughter +Regina." + +An hour later all Gittel's children were assembled round her, her eldest +son Avremel with his wife, Zlatke and her little ones, Beile's husband, +and her son-in-law Yossel. All read the letter with eager curiosity, +brandy and spice-cakes were placed on the table, wine was sent for, they +drank healths, wished each other joy, and began to talk of going to the +wedding. + +Gittel, very tired with all she had gone through this day, went to lie +down for a while to rest her head, which was all in a whirl, but the +others remained sitting at the table, and never stopped talking of +Moisheh. + +"I can imagine the sort of engagement Moisheh has made, begging his +pardon," remarked the daughter-in-law, and wiped her pale lips. + +"I should think so, a man who's been a bachelor up to thirty! It's easy +to fancy the sort of bride, and the sort of family she has, if they +accepted Moisheh as a suitor," agreed the daughter. + +"God helping, this ought to make a man of him," sighed Moisheh's elder +brother, "he's cost us trouble and worry enough." + +"It's your fault," Yossel told him. "If I'd been his elder brother, he +would have turned out differently! I should have directed him like a +father, and taken him well in hand." + +"You think so, but when God wishes to punish a man through his own child +going astray, nothing is of any use; these are not the old times, when +young people feared a Rebbe, and respected their elders. Nowadays the +world is topsyturvy, and no sooner has a boy outgrown his childhood than +he does what he pleases, and parents are nowhere. What have I left +undone to make something out of him, so that he should be a credit to +his family? Then, he was left an orphan very early; perhaps he would +have obeyed his father (may he enter a lightsome paradise!), but for a +brother and his mother, he paid them as much attention as last year's +snow, and, if you said anything to him, he answered rudely, and neither +coaxing nor scolding was any good. Now, please God, he'll make a fresh +start, and give up his antics before it's too late. His poor mother! +She's had trouble enough on his account, as we all know." + +Beile let fall a tear and said: + +"If our father (may he be our kind advocate!) were alive, Moishehle +would never have made an engagement like this. Who knows what sort of +connections they will be! I can see them, begging his pardon, from here! +Is he likely to have asked anyone's advice? He always had a will of his +own--did what he wanted to do, never asked his mother, or his sister, or +his brother, beforehand. Now he's a bridegroom at thirty if he's a day, +and we are all asked to the wedding, are we really? And we shall soon +all be running to see the fine sight, such as never was seen before. We +are no such fools! He thinks _himself_ the clever one now! So he wants +us to be at the wedding? Only says it out of politeness." + +"We must go, all the same," said Avremel. + +"Go and welcome, if you want to--you won't catch _me_ there," answered +his sister. + +There was a deal more discussion and disputing about not going to the +wedding, and only congratulating by telegram, for good manners' sake. +Since he had asked no one's advice, and engaged himself without them, +let him get married without them, too! + +Gittel, up in her bedroom, could not so soon compose herself after the +events of the day. What she had experienced was no trifle. Moishehle +engaged to be married! She had been through so much on his account in +the course of her life, she had loved him, her youngest born, so dearly! +He was such a beautiful child that the light of his countenance dazzled +you, and bright as the day, so that people opened ears and mouth to hear +him talk, and God and men alike envied her the possession of such a boy. + +"I counted on making a match for him, as I did with Avremel before him. +He was offered the best connections, with the families of the greatest +Rabbis. But, no--no--he wanted to go on studying. 'Study here, study +there,' said I, 'sixteen years old and a bachelor! If you want to study, +can't you study at your father-in-law's, eating Koest? There are books in +plenty, thank Heaven, of your father's.' No, no, he wanted to go and +study elsewhere, asked nobody's advice, and made off, and for two months +I never had a line. I nearly went out of my mind. Then, suddenly, there +came a letter, begging my pardon for not having said good-by, and would +I forgive him, and send him some money, because he had nothing to eat. +It tore my heart to think my Moishehle, who used to make me happy +whenever he enjoyed a meal, should hunger. I sent him some money, I went +on sending him money for three years, after that he stopped asking for +it. I begged him to come home, he made no reply. 'I don't wish to +quarrel with Avremel, my sister, and her husband,' he wrote later, 'we +cannot live together in peace.' Why? I don't know! Then, for a time, he +left off writing altogether, and the messages we got from him sounded +very sad. Now he was in Kieff, now in Odessa, now in Charkoff, and they +told us he was living like any Gentile, had not the look of a Jew at +all. Some said he was living with a Gentile woman, a countess, and would +never marry in his life." + +Five years ago he had suddenly appeared at home, "to see his mother," as +he said. Gittel did not recognize him, he was so changed. The rest found +him quite the stranger: he had a "goyish" shaven face, with a twisted +moustache, and was got up like a rich Gentile, with a purse full of +bank-notes. His family were ashamed to walk abroad with him, Gittel +never ceased weeping and imploring him to give up the countess, remain a +Jew, stay with his mother, and she, with God's help, would make an +excellent match for him, if he would only alter his appearance and ways +just a little. Moishehle solemnly assured his mother that he was a Jew, +that there was no countess, but that he wouldn't remain at home for a +million rubles, first, because he had business elsewhere, and secondly, +he had no fancy for his native town, there was nothing there for him to +do, and to dispute with his brother and sister about religious piety was +not worth his while. + +So Moishehle departed, and Gittel wept, wondering why he was different +from the other children, seeing they all had the same mother, and she +had lived and suffered for all alike. Why would he not stay with her at +home? What would he have wanted for there? God be praised, not to sin +with her tongue, thanks to God first, and then to _him_ (a lightsome +paradise be his!), they were provided for, with a house and a few +thousand rubles, all that was necessary for their comfort, and a little +ready money besides. The house alone, not to sin with her tongue, would +bring in enough to make a living. Other people envy us, but it doesn't +happen to please him, and he goes wandering about the world--without a +wife and without a home--a man twenty and odd years old, and without a +home! + +The rest of the family were secretly well content to be free of such a +poor creature--"the further off, the better--the shame is less." + +A letter from him came very seldom after this, and for the last two +years he had dropped out altogether. Nobody was surprised, for everyone +was convinced that Moisheh would never come to anything. Some told that +he was in prison, others knew that he had gone abroad and was being +pursued, others, that he had hung himself because he was tired of life, +and that before his death he had repented of all his sins, only it was +too late. + +His relations heard all these reports, and were careful to keep them +from his mother, because they were not sure that the bad news was true. + +Gittel bore the pain at her heart in silence, weeping at times over her +Moishehle, who had got into bad ways--and now, suddenly, this precious +letter with its precious news: Her Moishehle is about to marry, and +invites them to the wedding! + +Thus Gittel, lying in bed in her own room, recalled everything she had +suffered through her undutiful son, only now--now everything was +forgotten and forgiven, and her mother's heart was full of love for her +Moishehle, just as in the days when he toddled about at her apron, and +pleased his mother and everyone else. + +All her thoughts were now taken up with getting ready to attend the +wedding; the time was so short--there were only three weeks left. When +her other children were married, Gittel began her preparations three +months ahead, and now there were only three weeks. + +Next day she took out her watered silk dress, with the green satin +flowers, and hung it up to air, examined it, lest there should be a hook +missing. After that she polished her long ear-rings with chalk, her +pearls, her rings, and all her other ornaments, and bought a new yellow +silk kerchief for her head, with a large flowery pattern in a lighter +shade. + +A week before the journey to Warsaw they baked spice-cakes, pancakes, +and almond-rolls to take with her, "from the bridegroom's side," and +ordered a wig for the bride. When her eldest son was married, Gittel had +also given the bride silver candlesticks for Friday evenings, and +presented her with a wig for the Veiling Ceremony. + +And before she left, Gittel went to her husband's grave, and asked him +to be present at the wedding as a good advocate for the newly-married +pair. + +Gittel started for Warsaw in grand style, and cheerful and happy, as +befits a mother going to the wedding of her favorite son. All those who +accompanied her to the station declared that she looked younger and +prettier by twenty years, and made a beautiful bridegroom's mother. + +Besides wedding presents for the bride, Gittel took with her money for +wedding expenses, so that she might play her part with becoming +lavishness, and people should not think her Moishehle came, bless and +preserve us, of a low-born family--to show that he was none so forlorn +but he had, God be praised and may it be for a hundred and twenty years +to come! a mother, and a sister, and brothers, and came of a well-to-do +family. She would show them that she could be as fine a bridegroom's +mother as anyone, even, thank God, in Warsaw. Moishehle was her last +child, and she grudged him nothing. Were _he_ (may he be a good +intercessor!) alive, he would certainly have graced the wedding better, +and spent more money, but she would spare nothing to make a good figure +on the occasion. She would treat every connection of the bride to a +special dance-tune, give the musicians a whole five-ruble-piece for +their performance of the Vivat, and two dreierlech for the Kosher-Tanz, +beside something for the Rav, the cantor, and the beadle, and alms for +the poor--what should she save for? She has no more children to marry +off--blessed be His dear Name, who had granted her life to see her +Moishehle's wedding! + +Thus happily did Gittel start for Warsaw. + +One carriage after another drove up to the wedding-reception room in +Dluga Street, Warsaw, ladies and their daughters, all in evening dress, +and smartly attired gentlemen, alighted and went in. + +The room was full, the band played, ladies and gentlemen were dancing, +and those who were not, talked of the bride and bridegroom, and said how +fortunate they considered Regina, to have secured such a presentable +young man, lively, educated, and intelligent, with quite a fortune, +which he had made himself, and a good business. Ten thousand rubles +dowry with the perfection of a husband was a rare thing nowadays, when a +poor professional man, a little doctor without practice, asked fifteen +thousand. It was true, they said, that Regina was a pretty girl and a +credit to her parents, but how many pretty, bright girls had more money +than Regina, and sat waiting? + +It was above all the mothers of the young ladies present who talked low +in this way among themselves. + +The bride sat on a chair at the end of the room, ladies and young girls +on either side of her; Gittel, the bridegroom's mother in her watered +silk dress, with the large green satin flowers, was seated between two +ladies with dresses cut so low that Gittel could not bear to look at +them--women with husbands and children daring to show themselves like +that at a wedding! Then she could not endure the odor of their bare +skin, the powder, pomade, and perfumes with which they were smeared, +sprinkled, and wetted, even to their hair. All these strange smells +tickled Gittel's nose, and went to her head like a fume. She sat +between the two ladies, feeling cramped and shut in, unable to stir, and +would gladly have gone away. Only whither? Where should she, the +bridegroom's mother, be sitting, if not near the bride, at the upper end +of the room? But all the ladies sitting there are half-naked. Should she +sit near the door? That would never do. And Gittel remained sitting, in +great embarrassment, between the two women, and looked on at the +reception, and saw nothing but a room full of _decolletees_, ladies and +girls. + +Gittel felt more and more uncomfortable, it made her quite faint to look +at them. + +"One can get over the girls, young things, because a girl has got to +please, although no Jewish daughter ought to show herself to everyone +like that, but what are you to do with present-day children, especially +in a dissolute city like Warsaw? But young women, and women who have +husbands and children, and no need, thank God, to please anyone, how are +they not ashamed before God and other people and their own children, to +come to a wedding half-naked, like loose girls in a public house? Jewish +daughters, who ought not to be seen uncovered by the four walls of their +room, to come like that to a wedding! To a Jewish wedding!... Tpfu, +tpfu, I'd like to spit at this newfangled world, may God not punish me +for these words! It is enough to make one faint to see such a display +among Jews!" + +After the ceremony under the canopy, which was erected in the centre of +the room, the company sat down to the table, and Gittel was again seated +at the top, between the two women before mentioned, whose perfumes went +to her head. + +She felt so queer and so ill at ease that she could not partake of the +dinner, her mouth seemed locked, and the tears came in her eyes. + +When they rose from table, Gittel sought out a place removed from the +"upper end," and sat down in a window, but presently the bride's mother, +also in _decollete_, caught sight of her, and went and took her by the +hand. + +"Why are you sitting here, Mechuteneste? Why are you not at the top?" + +"I wanted to rest myself a little." + +"Oh, no, no, come and sit there," said the lady, led her away by force, +and seated her between the two ladies with the perfumes. + +Long, long did she sit, feeling more and more sick and dizzy. If only +she could have poured out her heart to some one person, if she could +have exchanged a single word with anybody during that whole evening, it +would have been a relief, but there was no one to speak to. The music +played, there was dancing, but Gittel could see nothing more. She felt +an oppression at her heart, and became covered with perspiration, her +head grew heavy, and she fell from her chair. + +"The bridegroom's mother has fainted!" was the outcry through the whole +room. "Water, water!" + +They fetched water, discovered a doctor among the guests, and he led +Gittel into another room, and soon brought her round. + +The bride, the bridegroom, the bride's mother, and the two ladies ran +in: + +"What can have caused it? Lie down! How do you feel now? Perhaps you +would like a sip of lemonade?" they all asked. + +"Thank you, I want nothing, I feel better already, leave me alone for a +while. I shall soon recover myself, and be all right." + +So Gittel was left alone, and she breathed more easily, her head stopped +aching, she felt like one let out of prison, only there was a pain at +her heart. The tears which had choked her all day now began to flow, and +she wept abundantly. The music never ceased playing, she heard the sound +of the dancers' feet and the directions of the master of ceremonies; the +floor shook, Gittel wept, and tried with all her might to keep from +sobbing, so that people should not hear and come in and disturb her. She +had not wept so since the death of her husband, and this was the wedding +of her favorite son! + +By degrees she ceased to weep altogether, dried her eyes, and sat +quietly talking to herself of the many things that passed through her +head. + +"Better that _he_ (may he enter a lightsome paradise!) should have died +than lived to see what I have seen, and the dear delight which I have +had, at the wedding of my youngest child! Better that I myself should +not have lived to see his marriage canopy. Canopy, indeed! Four sticks +stuck up in the middle of the room to make fun with, for people to play +at being married, like monkeys! Then at table: no Seven Blessings, not a +Jewish word, not a Jewish face, no Minyan to be seen, only shaven +Gentiles upon Gentiles, a roomful of naked women and girls that make you +sick to look at them. Moishehle had better have married a poor orphan, +I shouldn't have been half so ashamed or half so unhappy." + +Gittel called to mind the sort of a bridegroom's mother she had been at +the marriage of her eldest son, and the satisfaction she had felt. Four +hundred women had accompanied her to the Shool when Avremele was called +to the Reading of the Law as a bridegroom, and they had scattered nuts, +almonds, and raisins down upon him as he walked; then the party before +the wedding, and the ceremony of the canopy, and the procession with the +bride and bridegroom to the Shool, the merry home-coming, the golden +soup, the bridegroom brought at supper time to the sound of music, the +cantor and his choir, who sang while they sat at table, the Seven +Blessings, the Vivat played for each one separately, the Kosher-Tanz, +the dance round the bridegroom--and the whole time it had been Gittel +here and Gittel there: "Good luck to you, Gittel, may you be happy in +the young couple and in all your other children, and live to dance at +the wedding of your youngest" (it was a delight and no mistake!). "Where +is Gittel?" she hears them cry. "The uncle, the aunt, a cousin have paid +for a dance for the Mechuteneste on the bridegroom's side! Play, +musicians all!" The company make way for her, and she dances with the +uncle, the aunt, and the cousin, and all the rest clap their hands. She +is tired with dancing, but still they call "Gittel"! An old friend sings +a merry song in her honor. "Play, musicians all!" And Gittel dances on, +the company clap their hands, and wish her all that is good, and she is +penetrated with genuine happiness and the joy of the occasion. Then, +then, when the guests begin to depart, and the mothers of bridegroom and +bride whisper together about the forthcoming Veiling Ceremony, she sees +the bride in her wig, already a wife, her daughter-in-law! Her jam +pancakes and almond-rolls are praised by all, and what cakes are left +over from the Veiling Ceremony are either snatched one by one, or else +they are seized wholesale by the young people standing round the table, +so that she should not see, and they laugh and tease her. That is the +way to become a mother-in-law! And here, of course, the whole of the +pancakes and sweet-cakes and almond-rolls which she brought have never +so much as been unpacked, and are to be thrown away or taken home again, +as you please! A shame! No one came to her for cakes. The wig, too, may +be thrown away or carried back--Moishehle told her it was not required, +it wouldn't quite do. The bride accepted the silver candlesticks with +embarrassment, as though Gittel had done something to make her feel +awkward, and some girls who were standing by smiled, "Regina has been +given candlesticks for the candle-blessing on Fridays--ha, ha, ha!" + +The bridal couple with the girl's parents came in to ask how she felt, +and interrupted the current of her thoughts. + +"We shall drive home now, people are leaving," they said. + +"The wedding is over," they told her, "everything in life comes to a +speedy end." + +Gittel remembered that when Avremel was married, the festivities had +lasted a whole week, till over the second cheerful Sabbath, when the +bride, the new daughter-in-law, was led to the Shool! + +The day after the wedding Gittel drove home, sad, broken in spirit, as +people return from the cemetery where they have buried a child, where +they have laid a fragment of their own heart, of their own life, under +the earth. + +Driving home in the carriage, she consoled herself with this at least: + +"A good thing that Beile and Zlatke, Avremel and Yossel were not there. +The shame will be less, there will be less talk, nobody will know what I +am suffering." + +Gittel arrived the picture of gloom. + +When she left for the wedding, she had looked suddenly twenty years +younger, and now she looked twenty years older than before! + + + + +POVERTY + + +I was living in Mezkez at the time, and Seinwill Bookbinder lived there +too. + +But Heaven only knows where he is now! Even then his continual pallor +augured no long residence in Mezkez, and he was a Yadeschlever Jew with +a wife and six small children, and he lived by binding books. + +Who knows what has become of him! But that is not the question--I only +want to prove that Seinwill was a great liar. + +If he is already in the other world, may he forgive me--and not be very +angry with me, if he is still living in Mezkez! + +He was an orthodox and pious Jew, but when you gave him a book to bind, +he never kept his word. + +When he took a book and even the whole of his pay in advance, he would +swear by beard and earlocks, by wife and children, and by the Messiah, +that he would bring it back to you by Sabbath, but you had to be at him +for weeks before the work was finished and sent in. + +Once, on a certain Friday, I remembered that next day, Sabbath, I should +have a few hours to myself for reading. + +A fortnight before I had given Seinwill a new book to bind for me. It +was just a question whether or not he would return it in time, so I set +out for his home, with the intention of bringing back the book, finished +or not. I had paid him his twenty kopeks in advance, so what excuses +could he possibly make? Once for all, I would give him a bit of my mind, +and take away the work unfinished--it will be a lesson for him for the +next time! + +Thus it was, walking along and deciding on what I should say to +Seinwill, that I turned into the street to which I had been directed. +Once in the said street, I had no need to ask questions, for I was at +once shown a little, low house, roofed with mouldered slate. + +I stooped a little by way of precaution, and entered Seinwill's house, +which consisted of a large kitchen. + +Here he lived with his wife and children, and here he worked. + +In the great stove that took up one-third of the kitchen there was a +cheerful crackling, as in every Jewish home on a Friday. + +In the forepart of the oven, on either hand, stood a variety of pots and +pipkins, and gossipped together in their several tones. An elder child +stood beside them holding a wooden spoon, with which she stirred or +skimmed as the case required. + +Seinwill's wife, very much occupied, stood by the one four-post bed, +which was spread with a clean white sheet, and on which she had laid out +various kinds of cakes, of unbaked dough, in honor of Sabbath. Beside +her stood a child, its little face red with crying, and hindered her in +her work. + +"Seinwill, take Chatzkele away! How can I get on with the cakes? Don't +you know it's Friday?" she kept calling out, and Seinwill, sitting at +his work beside a large table covered with books, repeated every time +like an echo: + +"Chatzkele, let mother alone!" + +And Chatzkele, for all the notice he took, might have been as deaf as +the bedpost. + +The minute Seinwill saw me, he ran to meet me in a shamefaced way, like +a sinner caught in the act; and before I was able to say a word, that +is, tell him angrily and with decision that he must give me my book +finished or not--never mind about the twenty kopeks, and so on--and thus +revenge myself on him, he began to answer, and he showed me that my book +was done, it was already in the press, and there only remained the +lettering to be done on the back. Just a few minutes more, and he would +bring it to my house. + +"No, I will wait and take it myself," I said, rather vexed. + +Besides, I knew that to stamp a few letters on a book-cover could not +take more than a few minutes at most. + +"Well, if you are so good as to wait, it will not take long. There is a +fire in the oven, I have only just got to heat the screw." + +And so saying, he placed a chair for me, dusted it with the flap of his +coat, and I sat down to wait. Seinwill really took my book out of the +press quite finished except for the lettering on the cover, and began to +hurry. Now he is by the oven--from the oven to the corner--and once more +to the oven and back to the corner--and so on ten times over, saying to +me every time: + +"There, directly, directly, in another minute," and back once more +across the room. + +So it went on for about ten minutes, and I began to take quite an +interest in this running of his from one place to another, with empty +hands, and doing nothing but repeat "Directly, directly, this minute!" + +Most of all I wonder why he keeps on looking into the corner--he never +takes his eyes off that corner. What is he looking for, what does he +expect to see there? I watch his face growing sadder--he must be +suffering from something or other--and all the while he talks to +himself, "Directly, directly, in one little minute." He turns to me: "I +must ask you to wait a little longer. It will be very soon now--in +another minute's time. Just because we want it so badly, you'd think +she'd rather burst," he said, and he went back to the corner, stooped, +and looked into it. + +"What are you looking for there every minute?" I ask him. + +"Nothing. But directly--Take my advice: why should you sit there +waiting? I will bring the book to you myself. When one wants her to, she +won't!" + +"All right, it's Friday, so I need not hurry. Why should you have the +trouble, as I am already here?" I reply, and ask him who is the "she who +won't." + +"You see, my wife, who is making cakes, is kept waiting by her too, and +I, with the lettering to do on the book, I also wait." + +"But _what_ are you waiting for?" + +"You see, if the cakes are to take on a nice glaze while baking, they +must be brushed over with a yolk." + +"Well, and what has that to do with stamping the letters on the cover of +the book?" + +"What has that to do with it? Don't you know that the glaze-gold which +is used for the letters will not stick to the cover without some white +of egg?" + +"Yes, I have seen them smearing the cover with white of egg before +putting on the letters. Then what?" + +"How 'what?' That is why we are waiting for the egg." + +"So you have sent out to buy an egg?" + +"No, but it will be there directly." He points out to me the corner +which he has been running to look into the whole time, and there, on the +ground, I see an overturned sieve, and under the sieve, a hen turning +round and round and cackling. + +"As if she'd rather burst!" continued Seinwill. "Just because we want it +so badly, she won't lay. She lays an egg for me nearly every time, and +now--just as if she'd rather burst!" he said, and began to scratch his +head. + +And the hen? The hen went on turning round and round like a prisoner in +a dungeon, and cackled louder than ever. + +To tell the truth, I had inferred at once that Seinwill was persuaded I +should wait for my book till the hen had laid an egg, and as I watched +Seinwill's wife, and saw with what anxiety she waited for the hen to +lay, I knew that I was right, that Seinwill was indeed so persuaded, for +his wife called to him: + +"Ask the young man for a kopek and send the child to buy an egg in the +market. The cakes are getting cold." + +"The young man owes me nothing, a few weeks ago he paid me for the whole +job. There is no one to borrow from, nobody will lend me anything, I owe +money all around, my very hair is not my own." + +When Seinwill had answered his wife, he took another peep into the +corner, and said: + +"She will not keep us waiting much longer now. She can't cackle forever. +Another two minutes!" + +But the hen went on puffing out her feathers, pecking and cackling for a +good deal more than two minutes. It seemed as if she could not bear to +see her master and mistress in trouble, as if she really wished to do +them a kindness by laying an egg. But no egg appeared. + +I _lent_ Seinwill two or three kopeks, which he was to pay me back in +work, because Seinwill has never once asked for, or accepted, charity, +and the child was sent to the market. + +A few minutes later, when the child had come back with an egg, +Seinwill's wife had the glistening Sabbath cakes on a shovel, and was +placing them gaily in the oven; my book was finished, and the +unfortunate hen, released at last from her prison, the sieve, ceased to +cackle and to ruffle out her plumage. + + + + +SHOLOM-ALECHEM + + +Pen name of Shalom Rabinovitz; born, 1859, in Pereyaslav, Government of +Poltava, Little Russia; Government Rabbi, at twenty-one, in Lubni, near +his native place; has spent the greater part of his life in Kieff; in +Odessa from 1890 to 1893, and in America from 1905 to 1907; Hebrew, +Russian, and Yiddish poet, novelist, humorous short story writer, +critic, and playwright; prolific contributor to Hebrew and Yiddish +periodicals; founder of Die juedische Volksbibliothek; novels: Stempenyu, +Yosele Solovei, etc.; collected works: first series, Alle Werk, 4 vols., +Cracow, 1903-1904; second series, Neueste Werk, 8 vols., Warsaw, +1909-1911. + + + + +THE CLOCK + + +The clock struck thirteen! + +Don't imagine I am joking, I am telling you in all seriousness what +happened in Mazepevke, in our house, and I myself was there at the time. + +We had a clock, a large clock, fastened to the wall, an old, old clock +inherited from my grandfather, which had been left him by my +great-grandfather, and so forth. Too bad, that a clock should not be +alive and able to tell us something beside the time of day! What stories +we might have heard as we sat with it in the room! Our clock was famous +throughout the town as the best clock going--"Reb Simcheh's clock"--and +people used to come and set their watches by it, because it kept more +accurate time than any other. You may believe me that even Reb Lebish, +the sage, a philosopher, who understood the time of sunset from the sun +itself, and knew the calendar by rote, he said himself--I heard +him--that our clock was--well, as compared with his watch, it wasn't +worth a pinch of snuff, but as there _were_ such things as clocks, our +clock _was_ a clock. And if Reb Lebish himself said so, you may depend +upon it he was right, because every Wednesday, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, Reb Lebish climbed busily onto the roof of the women's +Shool, or onto the top of the hill beside the old house-of-study, and +looked out for the minute when the sun should set, in one hand his +watch, and in the other the calendar. And when the sun dropt out of +sight on the further side of Mazepevke, Reb Lebish said to himself, +"Got him!" and at once came away to compare his watch with the clocks. +When he came in to us, he never gave us a "good evening," only glanced +up at the clock on the wall, then at his watch, then at the almanac, and +was gone! + +But it happened one day that when Reb Lebish came in to compare our +clock with the almanac, he gave a shout: + +"Sim-cheh! Make haste! Where are you?" + +My father came running in terror. + +"Ha, what has happened, Reb Lebish?" + +"Wretch, you dare to ask?" and Reb Lebish held his watch under my +father's nose, pointed at our clock, and shouted again, like a man with +a trodden toe: + +"Sim-cheh! Why don't you speak? It is a minute and a half ahead of the +time! Throw it away!" + +My father was vexed. What did Reb Lebish mean by telling him to throw +away his clock? + +"Who is to prove," said he, "that my clock is a minute and a half fast? +Perhaps it is the other way about, and your watch is a minute and a half +slow? Who is to tell?" + +Reb Lebish stared at him as though he had said that it was possible to +have three days of New Moon, or that the Seventeenth of Tammuz might +possibly fall on the Eve of Passover, or made some other such wild +remark, enough, if one really took it in, to give one an apoplectic fit. +Reb Lebish said never a word, he gave a deep sigh, turned away without +wishing us "good evening," slammed the door, and was gone. But no one +minded much, because the whole town knew Reb Lebish for a person who +was never satisfied with anything: he would tell you of the best cantor +that he was a dummy, a log; of the cleverest man, that he was a +lumbering animal; of the most appropriate match, that it was as crooked +as an oven rake; and of the most apt simile, that it was as applicable +as a pea to the wall. Such a man was Reb Lebish. + +But let me return to our clock. I tell you, that _was_ a clock! You +could hear it strike three rooms away: Bom! bom! bom! Half the town went +by it, to recite the Midnight Prayers, to get up early for Seliches +during the week before New Year and on the ten Solemn Days, to bake the +Sabbath loaves on Fridays, to bless the candles on Friday evening. They +lighted the fire by it on Saturday evening, they salted the meat, and so +all the other things pertaining to Judaism. In fact, our clock was the +town clock. The poor thing served us faithfully, and never tried +stopping even for a time, never once in its life had it to be set to +rights by a clockmaker. My father kept it in order himself, he had an +inborn talent for clock work. Every year on the Eve of Passover, he +deliberately took it down from the wall, dusted the wheels with a +feather brush, removed from its inward part a collection of spider webs, +desiccated flies, which the spiders had lured in there to their +destruction, and heaps of black cockroaches, which had gone in of +themselves, and found a terrible end. Having cleaned and polished it, he +hung it up again on the wall and shone, that is, they both shone: the +clock shone because it was cleaned and polished, and my father shone +because the clock shone. + +And it came to pass one day that something happened. + +It was on a fine, bright, cloudless day; we were all sitting at table, +eating breakfast, and the clock struck. Now I always loved to hear the +clock strike and count the strokes out loud: + +"One--two--three--seven--eleven--twelve--thirteen! Oi! _Thirteen?_" + +"Thirteen?" exclaimed my father, and laughed. "You're a fine +arithmetician (no evil eye!). Whenever did you hear a clock strike +thirteen?" + +"But I tell you, it _struck_ thirteen!" + +"I shall give you thirteen slaps," cried my father, angrily, "and then +you won't repeat this nonsense again. Goi, a clock _cannot_ strike +thirteen!" + +"Do you know what, Simcheh," put in my mother, "I am afraid the child is +right, I fancy I counted thirteen, too." + +"There's another witness!" said my father, but it appeared that he had +begun to feel a little doubtful himself, for after the meal he went up +to the clock, got upon a chair, gave a turn to a little wheel inside the +clock, and it began to strike. We all counted the strokes, nodding our +head at each one the while: +one--two--three--seven--nine--twelve--thirteen. + +"Thirteen!" exclaimed my father, looking at us in amaze. He gave the +wheel another turn, and again the clock struck thirteen. My father got +down off the chair with a sigh. He was as white as the wall, and +remained standing in the middle of the room, stared at the ceiling, +chewed his beard, and muttered to himself: + +"Plague take thirteen! What can it mean? What does it portend? If it +were out of order, it would have stopped. Then, what can it be? The +inference can only be that some spring has gone wrong." + +"Why worry whether it's a spring or not?" said my mother. "You'd better +take down the clock and put it to rights, as you've a turn that way." + +"Hush, perhaps you're right," answered my father, took down the clock +and busied himself with it. He perspired, spent a whole day over it, and +hung it up again in its place. + +Thank God, the clock was going as it should, and when, near midnight, we +all stood round it and counted _twelve_, my father was overjoyed. + +"Ha? It didn't strike thirteen then, did it? When I say it is a spring, +I know what I'm about." + +"I always said you were a wonder," my mother told him. "But there is one +thing I don't understand: why does it wheeze so? I don't think it used +to wheeze like that." + +"It's your fancy," said my father, and listened to the noise it made +before striking, like an old man preparing to cough: +chil-chil-chil-chil-trrrr ... and only then: bom!--bom!--bom!--and even +the "bom" was not the same as formerly, for the former "bom" had been a +cheerful one, and now there had crept into it a melancholy note, as into +the voice of an old worn-out cantor at the close of the service for the +Day of Atonement, and the hoarseness increased, and the strike became +lower and duller, and my father, worried and anxious. It was plain that +the affair preyed upon his mind, that he suffered in secret, that it +was undermining his health, and yet he could do nothing. We felt that +any moment the clock might stop altogether. The imp started playing all +kinds of nasty tricks and idle pranks, shook itself sideways, and +stumbled like an old man who drags his feet after him. One could see +that the clock was about to stop forever! It was a good thing my father +understood in time that the clock was about to yield up its soul, and +that the fault lay with the balance weights: the weight was too light. +And he puts on a jostle, which has the weight of about four pounds. The +clock goes on like a song, and my father becomes as cheerful as a +newborn man. + +But this was not to be for long: the clock began to lose again, the imp +was back at his tiresome performances: he moved slowly on one side, +quickly on the other, with a hoarse noise, like a sick old man, so that +it went to the heart. A pity to see how the clock agonized, and my +father, as he watched it, seemed like a flickering, bickering flame of a +candle, and nearly went out for grief. + +Like a good doctor, who is ready to sacrifice himself for the patient's +sake, who puts forth all his energy, tries every remedy under the sun to +save his patient, even so my father applied himself to save the old +clock, if only it should be possible. + +"The weight is too light," repeated my father, and hung something +heavier onto it every time, first a frying-pan, then a copper jug, +afterwards a flat-iron, a bag of sand, a couple of tiles--and the clock +revived every time and went on, with difficulty and distress, but still +it went--till one night there was a misfortune. + +It was on a Friday evening in winter. We had just eaten our Sabbath +supper, the delicious peppered fish with horseradish, the hot soup with +macaroni, the stewed plums, and said grace as was meet. The Sabbath +candles flickered, the maid was just handing round fresh, hot, +well-dried Polish nuts from off the top of the stove, when in came Aunt +Yente, a dark-favored little woman without teeth, whose husband had +deserted her, to become a follower of the Rebbe, quite a number of years +ago. + +"Good Sabbath!" said Aunt Yente, "I knew you had some fresh Polish nuts. +The pity is that I've nothing to crack them with, may my husband live no +more years than I have teeth in my mouth! What did you think, Malkeh, of +the fish to-day? What a struggle there was over them at the market! I +asked him about his fish--Manasseh, the lazy--when up comes Soreh Peril, +the rich: Make haste, give it me, hand me over that little pike!--Why in +such a hurry? say I. God be with you, the river is not on fire, and +Manasseh is not going to take the fish back there, either. Take my word +for it, with these rich people money is cheap, and sense is dear. Turns +round on me and says: Paupers, she says, have no business here--a poor +man, she says, shouldn't hanker after good things. What do you think of +such a shrew? How long did she stand by her mother in the market selling +ribbons? She behaves just like Pessil Peise Avrohom's over her daughter, +the one she married to a great man in Schtrischtch, who took her just +as she was, without any dowry or anything--Jewish luck! They say she has +a bad time of it--no evil eye to her days--can't get on with his +children. Well, who would be a stepmother? Let them beware! Take +Chavvehle! What is there to find fault with in her? And you should see +the life her stepchildren lead her! One hears shouting day and night, +cursing, squabbling, and fighting." + +The candles began to die down, the shadow climbed the wall, scrambled +higher and higher, the nuts crackled in our hands, there was talking and +telling stories and tales, just for the pleasure of it, one without any +reference to the other, but Aunt Yente talked more than anyone. + +"Hush!" cried out Aunt Yente, "listen, because not long ago a still +better thing happened. Not far from Yampele, about three versts away, +some robbers fell upon a Jewish tavern, killed a whole houseful of +people, down to a baby in a cradle. The only person left alive was a +servant-girl, who was sleeping on the kitchen stove. She heard people +screeching, and jumped down, this servant-girl, off the stove, peeped +through a chink in the door, and saw, this servant-girl I'm telling you +of, saw the master of the house and the mistress lying on the floor, +murdered, in a pool of blood, and she went back, this girl, and sprang +through a window, and ran into the town screaming: Jews, to the rescue, +help, help, help!" + +Suddenly, just as Aunt Yente was shouting, "Help, help, help!" we heard +_trrraach!--tarrrach!--bom--dzin--dzin--dzin, bomm!!_ We were so deep in +the story, we only thought at first that robbers had descended upon our +house, and were firing guns, and we could not move for terror. For one +minute we looked at one another, and then with one accord we began to +call out, "Help! help! help!" and my mother was so carried away that she +clasped me in her arms and cried: + +"My child, my life for yours, woe is me!" + +"Ha? What? What is the matter with him? What has happened?" exclaimed my +father. + +"Nothing! nothing! hush! hush!" cried Aunt Yente, gesticulating wildly, +and the maid came running in from the kitchen, more dead than alive. + +"Who screamed? What is it? Is there a fire? What is on fire? Where?" + +"Fire? fire? Where is the fire?" we all shrieked. "Help! help! Gewalt, +Jews, to the rescue, fire, fire!" + +"Which fire? what fire? where fire?! Fire take _you_, you foolish girl, +and make cinders of you!" scolded Aunt Yente at the maid. "Now _she_ +must come, as though we weren't enough before! Fire, indeed, says she! +Into the earth with you, to all black years! Did you ever hear of such a +thing? What are you all yelling for? Do you know what it was that +frightened you? The best joke in the world, and there's nobody to laugh +with! God be with you, it was the clock falling onto the floor--now you +know! You hung every sort of thing onto it, and now it is fallen, +weighing at least three pud. And no wonder! A man wouldn't have fared +better. Did you ever?!" + +It was only then we came to our senses, rose one by one from the table, +went to the clock, and saw it lying on its poor face, killed, broken, +shattered, and smashed for evermore! + +"There is an end to the clock!" said my father, white as the wall. He +hung his head, wrung his fingers, and the tears came into his eyes. I +looked at my father and wanted to cry, too. + +"There now, see, what is the use of fretting to death?" said my mother. +"No doubt it was so decreed and written down in Heaven that to-day, at +that particular minute, our clock was to find its end, just (I beg to +distinguish!) like a human being, may God not punish me for saying so! +May it be an Atonement for not remembering the Sabbath, for me, for +thee, for our children, for all near and dear to us, and for all Israel. +Amen, Selah!" + + + + +FISHEL THE TEACHER + + +Twice a year, as sure as the clock, on the first day of Nisan and the +first of Ellul--for Passover and Tabernacles--Fishel the teacher +travelled from Balta to Chaschtschevate, home to his wife and children. +It was decreed that nearly all his life long he should be the guest of +his own family, a very welcome guest, but a passing one. He came with +the festival, and no sooner was it over, than back with him to Balta, +back to the schooling, the ruler, the Gemoreh, the dull, thick wits, to +the being knocked about from pillar to post, to the wandering among +strangers, and the longing for home. + +On the other hand, when Fishel _does_ come home, he is an emperor! His +wife Bath-sheba comes out to meet him, pulls at her head-kerchief, +blushes red as fire, questions as though in asides, without as yet +looking him in the face, "How are you?" and he replies, "How are _you_?" +and Froike his son, a boy of thirteen or so, greets him, and the father +asks, "Well, Efroim, and how far on are you in the Gemoreh?" and his +little daughter Resele, not at all a bad-looking little girl, with a +plaited pigtail, hugs and kisses him. + +"Tate, what sort of present have you brought me?" + +"Printed calico for a frock, and a silk kerchief for mother. There--give +mother the kerchief!" + +And Fishel takes a silk (suppose a half-silk!) kerchief out of his +Tallis-bag, and Bath-sheba grows redder still, and pulls her head-cloth +over her eyes, takes up a bit of household work, busies herself all over +the place, and ends by doing nothing. + +"Bring the Gemoreh, Efroim, and let me hear what you can do!" + +And Froike recites his lesson like the bright boy he is, and Fishel +listens and corrects, and his heart expands and overflows with delight, +his soul rejoices--a bright boy, Froike, a treasure! + +"If you want to go to the bath, there is a shirt ready for you!" + +Thus Bath-sheba as she passes him, still not venturing to look him in +the face, and Fishel has a sensation of unspeakable comfort, he feels +like a man escaped from prison and back in a lightsome world, among +those who are near and dear to him. And he sees in fancy a very, very +hot bath-house, and himself lying on the highest bench with other Jews, +and he perspires and swishes himself with the birch twigs, and can never +have enough. + +Home from the bath, fresh and lively as a fish, like one newborn, he +rehearses the portion of the Law for the festival, puts on the Sabbath +cloak and the new girdle, steals a glance at Bath-sheba in her new dress +and silk kerchief--still a pretty woman, and so pious and good!--and +goes with Froike to the Shool. The air is full of Sholom Alechems, +"Welcome, Reb Fishel the teacher, and what are you about?"--"A teacher +teaches!"--"What is the news?"--"What should it be? The world is the +world!"--"What is going on in Balta?"--"Balta is Balta." + +The same formula is repeated every time, every half-year, and Nissel the +reader begins to recite the evening prayers, and sends forth his voice, +the further the louder, and when he comes to "And Moses declared the +set feasts of the Lord unto the children of Israel," it reaches nearly +to Heaven. And Froike stands at his father's side, and recites the +prayers melodiously, and once more Fishel's heart expands and flows over +with joy--a good child, Froike, a good, pious child! + +"A happy holiday, a happy holiday!" + +"A happy holiday, a happy year!" + +At home they find the Passover table spread: the four cups, the bitter +herbs, the almond and apple paste, and all the rest of it. The +reclining-seats (two small benches with big cushions) stand ready, and +Fishel becomes a king. Fishel, robed in white, sits on the throne of his +dominion, Bath-sheba, the queen, sits beside him in her new silk +kerchief; Efroim, the prince, in a new cap, and the princess Resele with +her plait, sit opposite them. Look on with respect! His majesty Fishel +is seated on his throne, and has assumed the sway of his kingdom. + + * * * * * + +The Chaschtschevate scamps, who love to make game of the whole world, +not to mention a teacher, maintain that one Passover Eve our Fishel sent +his Bath-sheba the following Russian telegram: "Rebyata sobral dyengi +vezu prigatovi npiyedu tzarstvovatz," which means: "Have entered my +pupils for the next term, am bringing money, prepare the dumplings, I +come to reign." The mischief-makers declare that this telegram was +seized at Balta station, that Bath-sheba was sought and not found, and +that Fishel was sent home with the etape. Dreadful! But I can assure +you, there isn't a word of truth in the story, because Fishel never +sent a telegram in his life, nobody was ever seen looking for +Bath-sheba, and Fishel was never taken anywhere by the etape. That is, +he _was_ once taken somewhere by the etape, but not on account of a +telegram, only on account of a simple passport! And not from Balta, but +from Yehupetz, and not at Passover, but in summer-time. He wished, you +see, to go to Yehupetz in search of a post as teacher, and forgot his +passport. He thought it was in Balta, and he got into a nice mess, and +forbade his children and children's children ever to go in search of +pupils in Yehupetz. + +Since then he teaches in Balta, and comes home for Passover, winds up +his work a fortnight earlier, and sometimes manages to hasten back in +time for the Great Sabbath. Hasten, did I say? That means when the road +_is_ a road, when you can hire a conveyance, and when the Bug can either +be crossed on the ice or in the ferry-boat. But when, for instance, the +snow has begun to melt, and the mud is deep, when there is no conveyance +to be had, when the Bug has begun to split the ice, and the ferry-boat +has not started running, when a skiff means peril of death, and the +festival is upon you--what then? It is just "nit guet." + +Fishel the teacher knows the taste of "nit guet." He has had many +adventures and mishaps since he became a teacher, and took to faring +from Chaschtschevate to Balta and from Balta to Chaschtschevate. He has +tried going more than half-way on foot, and helped to push the +conveyance besides. He has lain in the mud with a priest, the priest on +top, and he below. He has fled before a pack of wolves who were +pursuing the vehicle, and afterwards they turned out to be dogs, and not +wolves at all. But anything like the trouble on this Passover Eve had +never befallen him before. + +The trouble came from the Bug, that is, from the Bug's breaking through +the ice, and just having its fling when Fishel reached it in a hurry to +get home, and really in a hurry, because it was already Friday and +Passover Eve, that is, Passover eve fell on a Sabbath that year. + +Fishel reached the Bug in a Gentile conveyance Thursday evening. +According to his own reckoning, he should have got there Tuesday +morning, because he left Balta Sunday after market, the spirit having +moved him to go into the market-place to spy after a chance conveyance. +How much better it would have been to drive with Yainkel-Shegetz, a +Balta carrier, even at the cart-tail, with his legs dangling, and shaken +to bits. He would have been home long ago by now, and have forgotten the +discomforts of the journey. But he had wanted a cheaper transit, and it +is an old saying that cheap things cost dear. Yoneh, the tippler, who +procures vehicles in Balta, had said to him: "Take my advice, give two +rubles, and you will ride in Yainkel's wagon like a lord, even if you do +have to sit behind the wagon. Consider, you're playing with fire, the +festival approaches." But as ill-luck would have it, there came along a +familiar Gentile from Chaschtschevate. + +"Eh, Rabbi, you're not wanting a lift to Chaschtschevate?" + +"How much would the fare be?" + +He thought to ask how much, and he never thought to ask if it would take +him home by Passover, because in a week he could have covered the +distance walking behind the cart. + +But as Fishel drove out of the town, he soon began to repent of his +choice, even though the wagon was large, and he sitting in it in +solitary grandeur, like any count. He saw that with a horse that dragged +itself along in _that_ way, there would be no getting far, for they +drove a whole day without getting anywhere in particular, and however +much he worried the peasant to know if it were a long way yet, the only +reply he got was, "Who can tell?" In the evening, with a rumble and a +shout and a crack of the whip, there came up with them Yainkel-Shegetz +and his four fiery horses jingling with bells, and the large coach +packed with passengers before and behind. Yainkel, catching sight of the +teacher in the peasant's cart, gave another loud crack with his whip, +ridiculed the peasant, his passenger, and his horse, as only +Yainkel-Shegetz knows how, and when a little way off, he turned and +pointed at one of the peasant's wheels. + +"Hallo, man, look out! There's a wheel turning!" + +The peasant stopped the horse, and he and the teacher clambered down +together, and examined the wheels. They crawled underneath the cart, and +found nothing wrong, nothing at all. + +When the peasant understood that Yainkel had made a fool of him, he +scratched the back of his neck below his collar, and began to abuse +Yainkel and all Jews with curses such as Fishel had never heard before. +His voice and his anger rose together: + +"May you never know good! May you have a bad year! May you not see the +end of it! Bad luck to you, you and your horses and your wife and your +daughter and your aunts and your uncles and your parents-in-law and--and +all your cursed Jews!" + +It was a long time before the peasant took his seat again, nor did he +cease to fume against Yainkel the driver and all Jews, until, with God's +help, they reached a village wherein to spend the night. + +Next morning Fishel rose with the dawn, recited his prayers, a portion +of the Law, and a few Psalms, breakfasted on a roll, and was ready to +set forward. Unfortunately, Chfedor (this was the name of his driver) +was _not_ ready. Chfedor had sat up late with a crony and got drunk, and +he slept through a whole day and a bit of the night, and then only +started on his way. + +"Well," Fishel reproved him as they sat in the cart, "well, Chfedor, a +nice way to behave, upon my word! Do you suppose I engaged you for a +merrymaking? What have you to say for yourself, I should like to know, +eh?" + +And Fishel addressed other reproachful words to him, and never ceased +casting the other's laziness between his teeth, partly in Polish, partly +in Hebrew, and helping himself out with his hands. Chfedor understood +quite well what Fishel meant, but he answered him not a word, not a +syllable even. No doubt he felt that Fishel was in the right, and he was +silent as a cat, till, on the fourth day, they met Yainkel-Shegetz, +driving back from Chaschtschevate with a rumble and a crack of his +whip, who called out to them, "You may as well turn back to Balta, the +Bug has burst the ice." + +Fishel's heart was like to burst, too, but Chfedor, who thought that +Yainkel was trying to fool him a second time, started repeating his +whole list of curses, called down all bad dreams on Yainkel's hands and +feet, and never shut his mouth till they came to the Bug on Thursday +evening. They drove straight to Prokop Baranyuk, the ferryman, to +inquire when the ferry-boat would begin to run, and the two Gentiles, +Chfedor and Prokop, took to sipping brandy, while Fishel proceeded to +recite the Afternoon Prayer. + + * * * * * + +The sun was about to set, and poured a rosy light onto the high hills +that stood on either side of the river, and were snow-covered in parts +and already green in others, and intersected by rivulets that wound +their way with murmuring noise down into the river, where the water +foamed with the broken ice and the increasing thaw. The whole of +Chaschtschevate lay before him as on a plate, while the top of the +monastery sparkled like a light in the setting sun. Standing to recite +the Eighteen Benedictions, with his face towards Chaschtschevate, Fishel +turned his eyes away and drove out the idle thoughts and images that had +crept into his head: Bath-sheba with the new silk kerchief, Froike with +the Gemoreh, Resele with her plait, the hot bath and the highest bench, +and freshly-baked Matzes, together with nice peppered fish and +horseradish that goes up your nose, Passover borshtsh with more Matzes, +a heavenly mixture, and all the other good things that desire is +capable of conjuring up--and however often he drove these fancies away, +they returned and crept back into his brain like summer flies, and +disturbed him at his prayers. + +When Fishel had repeated the Eighteen Benedictions and Olenu, he betook +him to Prokop, and entered into conversation with him about the +ferry-boat and the festival eve, giving him to understand, partly in +Polish and partly in Hebrew and partly with his hands, what Passover +meant to the Jews, and Passover Eve falling on a Sabbath, and that if, +which Heaven forbid, he had not crossed the Bug by that time to-morrow, +he was a lost man, for, beside the fact that they were on the lookout +for him at home--his wife and children (Fishel gave a sigh that rent the +heart)--he would not be able to eat or drink for a week, and Fishel +turned away, so that the tears in his eyes should not be seen. + +Prokop Baranyuk quite appreciated Fishel's position, and replied that he +knew to-morrow was a Jewish festival, and even how it was called; he +even knew that the Jews celebrated it by drinking wine and strong +brandy; he even knew that there was yet another festival at which the +Jews drank brandy, and a third when all Jews were obliged to get drunk, +but he had forgotten its name-- + +"Well and good," Fishel interrupted him in a lamentable voice, "but what +is to happen? How if I don't get there?" + +To this Prokop made no reply. He merely pointed with his hand to the +river, as much as to say, "See for yourself!" + +And Fishel lifted up his eyes to the river, and saw that which he had +never seen before, and heard that which he had never heard in his life. +Because you may say that Fishel had never yet taken in anything "out of +doors," he had only perceived it accidentally, by the way, as he hurried +from Cheder to the house-of-study, and from the house-of-study to +Cheder. The beautiful blue Bug between the two lines of imposing hills, +the murmur of the winding rivulets as they poured down the hillsides, +the roar of the ever-deepening spring-flow, the light of the setting +sun, the glittering cupola of the convent, the wholesome smell of +Passover-Eve-tide out of doors, and, above all, the being so close to +home and not able to get there--all these things lent wings, as it were, +to Fishel's spirit, and he was borne into a new world, the world of +imagination, and crossing the Bug seemed the merest trifle, if only the +Almighty were willing to perform a fraction of a miracle on his behalf. + +Such and like thoughts floated in and out of Fishel's head, and lifted +him into the air, and so far across the river, he never realized that it +was night, and the stars came out, and a cool wind blew in under his +cloak to his little prayer-scarf, and Fishel was busy with things that +he had never so much as dreamt of: earthly things and Heavenly things, +the great size of the beautiful world, the Almighty as Creator of the +earth, and so on. + +Fishel spent a bad night in Prokop's house--such a night as he hoped +never to spend again. The next morning broke with a smile from the +bright and cheerful sun. It was a singularly fine day, and so sweetly +warm that all the snow left melted into kasha, and the kasha, into +water, and this water poured into the Bug from all sides; and the Bug +became clearer, light blue, full and smooth, and the large bits of ice +that looked like dreadful wild beasts, like white elephants hurrying and +tearing along as if they were afraid of being late, grew rarer. + +Fishel the teacher recited the Morning Prayer, breakfasted on the last +piece of leavened bread left in his prayer-scarf bag, and went out to +the river to see about the ferry. Imagine his feelings when he heard +that the ferry-boat would not begin running before Sunday afternoon! He +clapped both hands to his head, gesticulated with every limb, and fell +to abusing Prokop. Why had he given him hopes of the ferry-boat's +crossing next day? Whereupon Prokop answered quite coolly that he had +said nothing about crossing with the ferry, he was talking of taking him +across in a small boat! And that he could still do, if Fishel wished, in +a sail-boat, in a rowboat, in a raft, and the fare was not less than one +ruble. + +"A raft, a rowboat, anything you like, only don't let me spend the +festival away from home!" + +Thus Fishel, and he was prepared to give him two rubles then and there, +to give his life for the holy festival, and he began to drive Prokop +into getting out the raft at once, and taking him across in the +direction of Chaschtschevate, where Bath-sheba, Froike, and Resele are +already looking out for him. It may be they are standing on the opposite +hills, that they see him, and make signs to him, waving their hands, +that they call to him, only one can neither see them nor hear their +voices, because the river is wide, dreadfully wide, wider than ever! + +The sun was already half-way up the deep, blue sky, when Prokop told +Fishel to get into the little trough of a boat, and when Fishel heard +him, he lost all power in his feet and hands, and was at a loss what to +do, for never in his life had he been in a rowboat, never in his life +had he been in any small boat. And it seemed to him the thing had only +to dip a little to one side, and all would be over. + +"Jump in, and off we'll go!" said Prokop once more, and with a turn of +his oar he brought the boat still closer in, and took Fishel's bundle +out of his hands. + +Fishel the teacher drew his coat-skirts neatly together, and began to +perform circles without moving from the spot, hesitating whether to jump +or not. On the one hand were Passover Eve, Bath-sheba, Froike, Resele, +the bath, the home service, himself as king; on the other, peril of +death, the Destroying Angel, suicide--because one dip and--good-by, +Fishel, peace be upon him! + +And Fishel remained circling there with his folded skirts, till Prokop +lost patience and said, another minute, and he should set out and be off +to Chaschtschevate without him. At the beloved word "Chaschtschevate," +Fishel called his dear ones to mind, summoned the whole of his courage, +and fell into the boat. I say "fell in," because the instant his foot +touched the bottom of the boat, it slipped, and Fishel, thinking he was +falling, drew back, and this drawing back sent him headlong forward into +the boat-bottom, where he lay stretched out for some minutes before +recovering his wits, and for a long time after his face was livid, and +his hands shook, while his heart beat like a clock, tik-tik-tak, +tik-tik-tak! + +Prokop meantime sat in the prow as though he were at home. He spit into +his hands, gave a stroke with the oar to the left, a stroke to the +right, and the boat glided over the shining water, and Fishel's head +spun round as he sat. As he sat? No, he hung floating, suspended in the +air! One false movement, and that which held him would give way; one +lean to the side, and he would be in the water and done with! At this +thought, the words came into his mind, "And they sank like lead in the +mighty waters," and his hair stood on end at the idea of such a death. +How? Not even to be buried with the dead of Israel? And he bethought +himself to make a vow to--to do what? To give money in charity? He had +none to give--he was a very, very poor man! So he vowed that if God +would bring him home in safety, he would sit up whole nights and study, +go through the whole of the Talmud in one year, God willing, with God's +help. + +Fishel would dearly have liked to know if it were much further to the +other side, and found himself seated, as though on purpose, with his +face to Prokop and his back to Chaschtschevate. And he dared not open +his mouth to ask. It seemed to him that his very voice would cause the +boat to rock, and one rock--good-by, Fishel! But Prokop opened his mouth +of his own accord, and began to speak. He said there was nothing worse +when you were on the water than a thaw. It made it impossible, he said, +to row straight ahead; one had to adapt one's course to the ice, to row +round and round and backwards. + +"There's a bit of ice making straight for us now." + +Thus Prokop, and he pulled back and let pass a regular ice-floe, which +swam by with a singular rocking motion and a sound that Fishel had never +seen or heard before. And then he began to understand what a wild +adventure this journey was, and he would have given goodness knows what +to be safe on shore, even on the one they had left. + +"O, you see that?" asked Prokop, and pointed upstream. + +Fishel raised his eyes slowly, was afraid of moving much, and looked and +looked, and saw nothing but water, water, and water. + +"There's a big one coming down on us now, we must make a dash for it, +for it's too late to row back." + +So said Prokop, and rowed away with both hands, and the boat glided and +slid like a fish through the water, and Fishel felt cold in every limb. +He would have liked to question, but was afraid of interfering. However, +again Prokop spoke of himself. + +"If we don't win by a minute, it will be the worse for us." + +Fishel can now no longer contain himself, and asks: + +"How do you mean, the worse?" + +"We shall be done for," says Prokop. + +"Done for?" + +"Done for." + +"How do you mean, done for?" persists Fishel. + +"I mean, it will grind us." + +"Grind us?" + +"Grind us." + +Fishel does not understand what "grind us, grind us" may signify, but it +has a sound of finality, of the next world, about it, and Fishel is +bathed in a cold sweat, and again the words come into his head, "And +they sank like lead in the mighty waters." + +And Prokop, as though to quiet our Fishel's mind, tells him a comforting +story of how, years ago at this time, the Bug broke through the ice, and +the ferry-boat could not be used, and there came to him another person +to be rowed across, an excise official from Uman, quite a person of +distinction, and offered a large sum; and they had the bad luck to meet +two huge pieces of ice, and he rowed to the right, in between the floes, +intending to slip through upwards, and he made an involuntary side +motion with the boat, and they went flop into the water! Fortunately, +he, Prokop, could swim, but the official came to grief, and the +fare-money, too. + +"It was good-by to my fare!" ended Prokop, with a sigh, and Fishel +shuddered, and his tongue dried up, so that he could neither speak nor +utter the slightest sound. + +In the very middle of the river, just as they were rowing along quite +smoothly, Prokop suddenly stopped, and looked--and looked--up the +stream; then he laid down the oars, drew a bottle out of his pocket, +tilted it into his mouth, sipped out of it two or three times, put it +back, and explained to Fishel that he had always to take a few sips of +the "bitter drop," otherwise he felt bad when on the water. And he wiped +his mouth, took the oars in hand again, and said, having crossed +himself three times: + +"Now for a race!" + +A race? With whom? With what? Fishel did not understand, and was afraid +to ask; but again he felt the brush of the Death Angel's wing, for +Prokop had gone down onto his knees, and was rowing with might and main. +Moreover, he said to Fishel, and pointed to the bottom of the boat: + +"Rebbe, lie down!" + +Fishel understood that he was to lie down, and did not need to be told +twice. For now he had seen a whole host of floes coming down upon them, +a world of ice, and he shut his eyes, flung himself face downwards in +the boat, and lay trembling like a lamb, and recited in a low voice, +"Hear, O Israel!" and the Confession, thought on the graves of Israel, +and fancied that now, now he lies in the abyss of the waters, now, now +comes a fish and swallows him, like Jonah the prophet when he fled to +Tarshish, and he remembers Jonah's prayer, and sings softly and with +tears: + +"Affofuni mayyim ad nofesh--the waters have reached unto my soul; tehom +yesoveveni--the deep hath covered me!" + +Fishel the teacher sang and wept and thought pitifully of his widowed +wife and his orphaned children, and Prokop rowed for all he was worth, +and sang _his_ little song: + +"O thou maiden with the black lashes!" + +And Prokop felt the same on the water as on dry land, and Fishel's +"Affofuni" and Prokop's "O maiden" blended into one, and a strange song +sounded over the Bug, a kind of duet, which had never been heard there +before. + +"The black year knows why he is so afraid of death, that Jew," so +wondered Prokop Baranyuk, "a poor tattered little Jew like him, a +creature I would not give this old boat for, and so afraid of death!" + +The shore reached, Prokop gave Fishel a shove in the side with his boot, +and Fishel started. The Gentile burst out laughing, but Fishel did not +hear, Fishel went on reciting the Confession, saying Kaddish for his own +soul, and mentally contemplating the graves of Israel! + +"Get up, you silly Rebbe! We're there--in Chaschtschevate!" + +Slowly, slowly, Fishel raised his head, and gazed around him with red +and swollen eyes. + +"Chasch-tsche-va-te???" + +"Chaschtschevate! Give me the ruble, Rebbe!" + +Fishel crawls out of the boat, and, finding himself really at home, does +not know what to do for joy. Shall he run into the town? Shall he go +dancing? Shall he first thank and praise God who has brought him safe +out of such great peril? He pays the Gentile his fare, takes up his +bundle under his arm and is about to run home, the quicker the better, +but he pauses a moment first, and turns to Prokop the ferryman: + +"Listen, Prokop, dear heart, to-morrow, please God, you'll come and +drink a glass of brandy, and taste festival fish at Fishel the +teacher's, for Heaven's sake!" + +"Shall I say no? Am I such a fool?" replied Prokop, licking his lips in +anticipation at the thought of the Passover brandy he would sip, and the +festival fish he would delectate himself with on the morrow. + +And Prokop gets back into his boat, and pulls quietly home again, +singing a little song, and pitying the poor Jew who was so afraid of +death. "The Jewish faith is the same as the Mahommedan!" and it seems to +him a very foolish one. And Fishel is thinking almost the same thing, +and pities the Gentile on account of _his_ religion. "What knows he, yon +poor Gentile, of such holy promises as were made to us Jews, the beloved +people!" + +And Fishel the teacher hastens uphill, through the Chaschtschevate mud. +He perspires with the exertion, and yet he does not feel the ground +beneath his feet. He flies, he floats, he is going home, home to his +dear ones, who are on the watch for him as for Messiah, who look for him +to return in health, to seat himself upon his kingly throne and reign. + +Look, Jews, and turn respectfully aside! Fishel the teacher has come +home to Chaschtschevate, and seated himself upon the throne of his +kingdom! + + + + +AN EASY FAST + + +That which Doctor Tanner failed to accomplish, was effectually carried +out by Chayyim Chaikin, a simple Jew in a small town in Poland. + +Doctor Tanner wished to show that a man can fast forty days, and he only +managed to get through twenty-eight, no more, and that with people +pouring spoonfuls of water into his mouth, and giving him morsels of ice +to swallow, and holding his pulse--a whole business! Chayyim Chaikin has +proved that one can fast more than forty days; not, as a rule, two +together, one after the other, but forty days, if not more, in the +course of a year. + +To fast is all he asks! + +Who said drops of water? Who said ice? Not for him! To fast means no +food and no drink from one set time to the other, a real +four-and-twenty-hours. + +And no doctors sit beside him and hold his pulse, whispering, "Hush! Be +quiet!" + +Well, let us hear the tale! + +Chayyim Chaikin is a very poor man, encumbered with many children, and +they, the children, support him. + +They are mostly girls, and they work in a factory and make cigarette +wrappers, and they earn, some one gulden, others half a gulden, a day, +and that not every day. How about Sabbaths and festivals and "shtreik" +days? One should thank God for everything, even in their out-of-the-way +little town strikes are all the fashion! + +And out of that they have to pay rent--for a damp corner in a basement. + +To buy clothes and shoes for the lot of them! They have a dress each, +but they are two to every pair of shoes. + +And then food--such as it is! A bit of bread smeared with an onion, +sometimes groats, occasionally there is a bit of taran that burns your +heart out, so that after eating it for supper, you can drink a whole +night. + +When it comes to eating, the bread has to be portioned out like cake. + +"Oi, dos Essen, dos Essen seiers!" + +Thus Chaike, Chayyim Chaikin's wife, a poor, sick creature, who coughs +all night long. + +"No evil eye," says the father, and he looks at his children devouring +whole slices of bread, and would dearly like to take a mouthful himself, +only, if he does so, the two little ones, Fradke and Beilke, will go +supperless. + +And he cuts his portion of bread in two, and gives it to the little +ones, Fradke and Beilke. + +Fradke and Beilke stretch out their little thin, black hands, look into +their father's eyes, and don't believe him: perhaps he is joking? +Children are nashers, they play with father's piece of bread, till at +last they begin taking bites out of it. The mother sees and exclaims, +coughing all the while: + +"It is nothing but eating and stuffing!" + +The father cannot bear to hear it, and is about to answer her, but he +keeps silent--he can't say anything, it is not for him to speak! Who is +he in the house? A broken potsherd, the last and least, no good to +anyone, no good to them, no good to himself. + +Because the fact is he does nothing, absolutely nothing; not because he +won't do anything, or because it doesn't befit him, but because there is +nothing to do--and there's an end of it! The whole townlet complains of +there being nothing to do! It is just a crowd of Jews driven together. +Delightful! They're packed like herrings in a barrel, they squeeze each +other close, all for love. + +"Well-a-day!" thinks Chaikin, "it's something to have children, other +people haven't even that. But to depend on one's children is quite +another thing and not a happy one!" Not that they grudge him his +keep--Heaven forbid! But he cannot take it from them, he really cannot! + +He knows how hard they work, he knows how the strength is wrung out of +them to the last drop, he knows it well! + +Every morsel of bread is a bit of their health and strength--he drinks +his children's blood! No, the thought is too dreadful! + +"Tatinke, why don't you eat?" ask the children. + +"To-day is a fast day with me," answers Chayyim Chaikin. + +"Another fast? How many fasts have you?" + +"Not so many as there are days in the week." + +And Chayyim Chaikin speaks the truth when he says that he has many +fasts, and yet there are days on which he eats. + +But he likes the days on which he fasts better. + +First, they are pleasing to God, and it means a little bit more of the +world-to-come, the interest grows, and the capital grows with it. + +"Secondly" (he thinks), "no money is wasted on me. Of course, I am +accountable to no one, and nobody ever questions me as to how I spend +it, but what do I want money for, when I can get along without it? + +"And what is the good of feeling one's self a little higher than a +beast? A beast eats every day, but I can go without food for one or two +days. A man _should_ be above a beast! + +"O, if a man could only raise himself to a level where he could live +without eating at all! But there are one's confounded insides!" So +thinks Chayyim Chaikin, for hunger has made a philosopher of him. + +"The insides, the necessity of eating, these are the causes of the +world's evil! The insides and the necessity of eating have made a pauper +of me, and drive my children to toil in the sweat of their brow and risk +their lives for a bit of bread! + +"Suppose a man had no need to eat! Ai--ai--ai! My children would all +stay at home! An end to toil, an end to moil, an end to 'shtreikeven,' +an end to the risking of life, an end to factory and factory owners, to +rich men and paupers, an end to jealousy and hatred and fighting and +shedding of blood! All gone and done with! Gone and done with! A +paradise! a paradise!" + +So reasons Chayyim Chaikin, and, lost in speculation, he pities the +world, and is grieved to the heart to think that God should have made +man so little above the beast. + + * * * * * + +The day on which Chayyim Chaikin fasts is, as I told you, his best day, +and a _real_ fast day, like the Ninth of Ab, for instance--he is ashamed +to confess it--is a festival for him! + +You see, it means not to eat, not to be a beast, not to be guilty of the +children's blood, to earn the reward of a Mitzveh, and to weep to +heart's content on the ruins of the Temple. + +For how can one weep when one is full? How can a full man grieve? Only +he can grieve whose soul is faint within him! The good year knows how +some folk answer it to their conscience, giving in to their +insides--afraid of fasting! Buy them a groschen worth of oats, for +charity's sake! + +Thus would Chayyim Chaikin scorn those who bought themselves off the +fast, and dropped a hard coin into the collecting box. + +The Ninth of Ab is the hardest fast of all--so the world has it. + +Chayyim Chaikin cannot see why. The day is long, is it? Then the night +is all the shorter. It's hot out of doors, is it? Who asks you to go +loitering about in the sun? Sit in the Shool and recite the prayers, of +which, thank God, there are plenty. + +"I tell you," persists Chayyim Chaikin, "that the Ninth of Ab is the +easiest of the fasts, because it is the best, the very best! + +"For instance, take the Day of Atonement fast! It is written, 'And you +shall mortify your bodies.' What for? To get a clean bill and a good +year. + +"It doesn't say that you are to fast on the Ninth of Ab, but you fast of +your own accord, because how could you eat on the day when the Temple +was wrecked, and Jews were killed, women ripped up, and children dashed +to pieces? + +"It doesn't say that you are to weep on the Ninth of Ab, but you _do_ +weep. How could anyone restrain his tears when he thinks of what we lost +that day?" + +"The pity is, there should be only one Ninth of Ab!" says Chayyim +Chaikin. + +"Well, and the Seventeenth of Tammuz!" suggests some one. + +"And there is only one Seventeenth of Tammuz!" answers Chayyim Chaikin, +with a sigh. + +"Well, and the Fast of Gedaliah? and the Fast of Esther?" continues the +same person. + +"Only one of each!" and Chayyim Chaikin sighs again. + +"E, Reb Chayyim, you are greedy for fasts, are you?" + +"More fasts, more fasts!" says Chayyim Chaikin, and he takes upon +himself to fast on the eve of the Ninth of Ab as well, two days at a +stretch. + +What do you think of fasting two days in succession? Isn't that a treat? +It is hard enough to have to break one's fast after the Ninth of Ab, +without eating on the eve thereof as well. + +One forgets that one _has_ insides, that such a thing exists as the +necessity to eat, and one is free of the habit that drags one down to +the level of the beast. + +The difficulty lies in the drinking! I mean, in the _not_ drinking. "If +I" (thinks Chayyim Chaikin) "allowed myself one glass of water a day, I +could fast a whole week till Sabbath." + +You think I say that for fun? Not at all! Chayyim Chaikin is a man of +his word. When he says a thing, it's said and done! The whole week +preceding the Ninth of Ab he ate nothing, he lived on water. + +Who should notice? His wife, poor thing, is sick, the elder children are +out all day in the factory, and the younger ones do not understand. +Fradke and Beilke only know when they are hungry (and they are always +hungry), the heart yearns within them, and they want to eat. + +"To-day you shall have an extra piece of bread," says the father, and +cuts his own in two, and Fradke and Beilke stretch out their dirty +little hands for it, and are overjoyed. + +"Tatinke, you are not eating," remark the elder girls at supper, "this +is not a fast day!" + +"And no more _do_ I fast!" replies the father, and thinks: "That was a +take-in, but not a lie, because, after all, a glass of water--that is +not eating and not fasting, either." + +When it comes to the eve of the Ninth of Ab, Chayyim feels so light and +airy as he never felt before, not because it is time to prepare for the +fast by taking a meal, not because he may eat. On the contrary, he feels +that if he took anything solid into his mouth, it would not go down, but +stick in his throat. + +That is, his heart is very sick, and his hands and feet shake; his body +is attracted earthwards, his strength fails, he feels like fainting. +But fie, what an idea! To fast a whole week, to arrive at the eve of the +Ninth of Ab, and not hold out to the end! Never! + +And Chayyim Chaikin takes his portion of bread and potato, calls Fradke +and Beilke, and whispers: + +"Children, take this and eat it, but don't let Mother see!" + +And Fradke and Beilke take their father's share of food, and look +wonderingly at his livid face and shaking hands. + +Chayyim sees the children snatch at the bread and munch and swallow, and +he shuts his eyes, and rises from his place. He cannot wait for the +other girls to come home from the factory, but takes his book of +Lamentations, puts off his shoes, and drags himself--it is all he can +do--to the Shool. + +He is nearly the first to arrive. He secures a seat next the reader, on +an overturned bench, lying with its feet in the air, and provides +himself with a bit of burned-down candle, which he glues with its +drippings to the foot of the bench, leans against the corner of the +platform, opens his book, "Lament for Zion and all the other towns," and +he closes his eyes and sees Zion robed in black, with a black veil over +her face, lamenting and weeping and wringing her hands, mourning for her +children who fall daily, daily, in foreign lands, for other men's sins. + + "And wilt not thou, O Zion, ask of me + Some tidings of the children from thee reft? + I bring thee greetings over land and sea, + From those remaining--from the remnant left!----" + +And he opens his eyes and sees: + +A bright sunbeam has darted in through the dull, dusty window-pane, a +beam of the sun which is setting yonder behind the town. And though he +shuts them again, he still sees the beam, and not only the beam, but the +whole sun, the bright, beautiful sun, and no one can see it but him! +Chayyim Chaikin looks at the sun and sees it--and that's all! How is it? +It must be because he has done with the world and its necessities--he +feels happy--he feels light--he can bear anything--he will have an easy +fast--do you know, he will have an easy fast, an easy fast! + +Chayyim Chaikin shuts his eyes, and sees a strange world, a new world, +such as he never saw before. Angels seem to hover before his eyes, and +he looks at them, and recognizes his children in them, all his children, +big and little, and he wants to say something to them, and cannot +speak--he wants to explain to them, that he cannot help it--it is not +his fault! How should it, no evil eye! be his fault, that so many Jews +are gathered together in one place and squeeze each other, all for love, +squeeze each other to death for love? How can he help it, if people +desire other people's sweat, other people's blood? if people have not +learned to see that one should not drive a man as a horse is driven to +work? that a horse is also to be pitied, one of God's creatures, a +living thing?---- + +And Chayyim Chaikin keeps his eyes shut, and sees, sees everything. And +everything is bright and light, and curls like smoke, and he feels +something is going out of him, from inside, from his heart, and is drawn +upward and loses itself from the body, and he feels very light, very, +very light, and he gives a sigh--a long, deep sigh--and feels still +lighter, and after that he feels nothing at all--absolutely nothing at +all-- + +Yes, he has an easy fast. + + * * * * * + +When Baere the beadle, a red-haired Jew with thick lips, came into the +Shool in his socks with the worn-down heels, and saw Chayyim Chaikin +leaning with his head back, and his eyes open, he was angry, thought +Chayyim was dozing, and he began to grumble: + +"He ought to be ashamed of himself--reclining like that--came here for a +nap, did he?--Reb Chayyim, excuse me, Reb Chayyim!----" + +But Chayyim Chaikin did not hear him. + + * * * * * + +The last rays of the sun streamed in through the Shool window, right +onto Chayyim Chaikin's quiet face with the black, shining, curly hair, +the black, bushy brows, the half-open, black, kindly eyes, and lit the +dead, pale, still, hungry face through and through. + + * * * * * + +I told you how it would be: Chayyim Chaikin had an easy fast! + + + + +THE PASSOVER GUEST + +I + + +"I have a Passover guest for you, Reb Yoneh, such a guest as you never +had since you became a householder." + +"What sort is he?" + +"A real Oriental citron!" + +"What does that mean?" + +"It means a 'silken Jew,' a personage of distinction. The only thing +against him is--he doesn't speak our language." + +"What does he speak, then?" + +"Hebrew." + +"Is he from Jerusalem?" + +"I don't know where he comes from, but his words are full of a's." + +Such was the conversation that took place between my father and the +beadle, a day before Passover, and I was wild with curiosity to see the +"guest" who didn't understand Yiddish, and who talked with a's. I had +already noticed, in synagogue, a strange-looking individual, in a fur +cap, and a Turkish robe striped blue, red, and yellow. We boys crowded +round him on all sides, and stared, and then caught it hot from the +beadle, who said children had no business "to creep into a stranger's +face" like that. Prayers over, everyone greeted the stranger, and wished +him a happy Passover, and he, with a sweet smile on his red cheeks set +in a round grey beard, replied to each one, "Shalom! Shalom!" instead of +our Sholom. This "Shalom! Shalom!" of his sent us boys into fits of +laughter. The beadle grew very angry, and pursued us with slaps. We +eluded him, and stole deviously back to the stranger, listened to his +"Shalom! Shalom!" exploded with laughter, and escaped anew from the +hands of the beadle. + +I am puffed up with pride as I follow my father and his guest to our +house, and feel how all my comrades envy me. They stand looking after +us, and every now and then I turn my head, and put out my tongue at +them. The walk home is silent. When we arrive, my father greets my +mother with "a happy Passover!" and the guest nods his head so that his +fur cap shakes. "Shalom! Shalom!" he says. I think of my comrades, and +hide my head under the table, not to burst out laughing. But I shoot +continual glances at the guest, and his appearance pleases me; I like +his Turkish robe, striped yellow, red, and blue, his fresh, red cheeks +set in a curly grey beard, his beautiful black eyes that look out so +pleasantly from beneath his bushy eyebrows. And I see that my father is +pleased with him, too, that he is delighted with him. My mother looks at +him as though he were something more than a man, and no one speaks to +him but my father, who offers him the cushioned reclining-seat at table. + +Mother is taken up with the preparations for the Passover meal, and +Rikel the maid is helping her. It is only when the time comes for saying +Kiddush that my father and the guest hold a Hebrew conversation. I am +proud to find that I understand nearly every word of it. Here it is in +full. + +My father: "Nu?" (That means, "Won't you please say Kiddush?") + +The guest: "Nu-nu!" (meaning, "Say it rather yourself!") + +My father: "Nu-O?" ("Why not you?") + +The guest: "O-nu?" ("Why should I?") + +My father: "I-O!" ("_You_ first!") + +The guest: "O-ai!" ("You first!") + +My father: "E-o-i!" ("I beg of you to say it!") + +The guest: "Ai-o-e!" ("I beg of you!") + +My father: "Ai-e-o-nu?" ("Why should you refuse?") + +The guest: "Oi-o-e-nu-nu!" ("If you insist, then I must.") + +And the guest took the cup of wine from my father's hand, and recited a +Kiddush. But what a Kiddush! A Kiddush such as we had never heard +before, and shall never hear again. First, the Hebrew--all a's. +Secondly, the voice, which seemed to come, not out of his beard, but out +of the striped Turkish robe. I thought of my comrades, how they would +have laughed, what slaps would have rained down, had they been present +at that Kiddush. + +Being alone, I was able to contain myself. I asked my father the Four +Questions, and we all recited the Haggadah together. And I was elated to +think that such a guest was ours, and no one else's. + + +II + +Our sage who wrote that one should not talk at meals (may he forgive me +for saying so!) did not know Jewish life. When shall a Jew find time to +talk, if not during a meal? Especially at Passover, when there is so +much to say before the meal and after it. Rikel the maid handed the +water, we washed our hands, repeated the Benediction, mother helped us +to fish, and my father turned up his sleeves, and started a long Hebrew +talk with the guest. He began with the first question one Jew asks +another: + +"What is your name?" + +To which the guest replied all in a's and all in one breath: + +"Ayak Bakar Gashal Damas Hanoch Vassam Za'an Chafaf Tatzatz." + +My father remained with his fork in the air, staring in amazement at the +possessor of so long a name. I coughed and looked under the table, and +my mother said, "Favele, you should be careful eating fish, or you might +be choked with a bone," while she gazed at our guest with awe. She +appeared overcome by his name, although unable to understand it. My +father, who understood, thought it necessary to explain it to her. + +"You see, Ayak Bakar, that is our Alef-Bes inverted. It is apparently +their custom to name people after the alphabet." + +"Alef-Bes! Alef-Bes!" repeated the guest with the sweet smile on his red +cheeks, and his beautiful black eyes rested on us all, including Rikel +the maid, in the most friendly fashion. + +Having learnt his name, my father was anxious to know whence, from what +land, he came. I understood this from the names of countries and towns +which I caught, and from what my father translated for my mother, +giving her a Yiddish version of nearly every phrase. And my mother was +quite overcome by every single thing she heard, and Rikel the maid was +overcome likewise. And no wonder! It is not every day that a person +comes from perhaps two thousand miles away, from a land only to be +reached across seven seas and a desert, the desert journey alone +requiring forty days and nights. And when you get near to the land, you +have to climb a mountain of which the top reaches into the clouds, and +this is covered with ice, and dreadful winds blow there, so that there +is peril of death! But once the mountain is safely climbed, and the land +is reached, one beholds a terrestrial Eden. Spices, cloves, herbs, and +every kind of fruit--apples, pears, and oranges, grapes, dates, and +olives, nuts and quantities of figs. And the houses there are all built +of deal, and roofed with silver, the furniture is gold (here the guest +cast a look at our silver cups, spoons, forks, and knives), and +brilliants, pearls, and diamonds bestrew the roads, and no one cares to +take the trouble of picking them up, they are of no value there. (He was +looking at my mother's diamond ear-rings, and at the pearls round her +white neck.) + +"You hear that?" my father asked her, with a happy face. + +"I hear," she answered, and added: "Why don't they bring some over here? +They could make money by it. Ask him that, Yoneh!" + +My father did so, and translated the answer for my mother's benefit: + +"You see, when you arrive there, you may take what you like, but when +you leave the country, you must leave everything in it behind, too, and +if they shake out of you no matter what, you are done for." + +"What do you mean?" questioned my mother, terrified. + +"I mean, they either hang you on a tree, or they stone you with stones." + + +III + +The more tales our guest told us, the more thrilling they became, and +just as we were finishing the dumplings and taking another sip or two of +wine, my father inquired to whom the country belonged. Was there a king +there? And he was soon translating, with great delight, the following +reply: + +"The country belongs to the Jews who live there, and who are called +Sefardim. And they have a king, also a Jew, and a very pious one, who +wears a fur cap, and who is called Joseph ben Joseph. He is the high +priest of the Sefardim, and drives out in a gilded carriage, drawn by +six fiery horses. And when he enters the synagogue, the Levites meet him +with songs." + +"There are Levites who sing in your synagogue?" asked my father, +wondering, and the answer caused his face to shine with joy. + +"What do you think?" he said to my mother. "Our guest tells me that in +his country there is a temple, with priests and Levites and an organ." + +"Well, and an altar?" questioned my mother, and my father told her: + +"He says they have an altar, and sacrifices, he says, and golden +vessels--everything just as we used to have it in Jerusalem." + +And with these words my father sighs deeply, and my mother, as she looks +at him, sighs also, and I cannot understand the reason. Surely we should +be proud and glad to think we have such a land, ruled over by a Jewish +king and high priest, a land with Levites and an organ, with an altar +and sacrifices--and bright, sweet thoughts enfold me, and carry me away +as on wings to that happy Jewish land where the houses are of pine-wood +and roofed with silver, where the furniture is gold, and diamonds and +pearls lie scattered in the street. And I feel sure, were I really +there, I should know what to do--I should know how to hide things--they +would shake nothing out of _me_. I should certainly bring home a lovely +present for my mother, diamond ear-rings and several pearl necklaces. I +look at the one mother is wearing, at her ear-rings, and I feel a great +desire to be in that country. And it occurs to me, that after Passover I +will travel there with our guest, secretly, no one shall know. I will +only speak of it to our guest, open my heart to him, tell him the whole +truth, and beg him to take me there, if only for a little while. He will +certainly do so, he is a very kind and approachable person, he looks at +every one, even at Rikel the maid, in such a friendly, such a very +friendly way! + +"So I think, and it seems to me, as I watch our guest, that he has read +my thoughts, and that his beautiful black eyes say to me: + +"Keep it dark, little friend, wait till after Passover, then we shall +manage it!" + + +IV + +I dreamt all night long. I dreamt of a desert, a temple, a high priest, +and a tall mountain. I climb the mountain. Diamonds and pearls grow on +the trees, and my comrades sit on the boughs, and shake the jewels down +onto the ground, whole showers of them, and I stand and gather them, and +stuff them into my pockets, and, strange to say, however many I stuff +in, there is still room! I stuff and stuff, and still there is room! I +put my hand into my pocket, and draw out--not pearls and brilliants, but +fruits of all kinds--apples, pears, oranges, olives, dates, nuts, and +figs. This makes me very unhappy, and I toss from side to side. Then I +dream of the temple, I hear the priests chant, and the Levites sing, and +the organ play. I want to go inside and I cannot--Rikel the maid has +hold of me, and will not let me go. I beg of her and scream and cry, and +again I am very unhappy, and toss from side to side. I wake--and see my +father and mother standing there, half dressed, both pale, my father +hanging his head, and my mother wringing her hands, and with her soft +eyes full of tears. I feel at once that something has gone very wrong, +very wrong indeed, but my childish head is incapable of imagining the +greatness of the disaster. + +The fact is this: our guest from beyond the desert and the seven seas +has disappeared, and a lot of things have disappeared with him: all the +silver wine-cups, all the silver spoons, knives, and forks; all my +mother's ornaments, all the money that happened to be in the house, and +also Rikel the maid! + +A pang goes through my heart. Not on account of the silver cups, the +silver spoons, knives, and forks that have vanished; not on account of +mother's ornaments or of the money, still less on account of Rikel the +maid, a good riddance! But because of the happy, happy land whose roads +were strewn with brilliants, pearls, and diamonds; because of the temple +with the priests, the Levites, and the organ; because of the altar and +the sacrifices; because of all the other beautiful things that have been +taken from me, taken, taken, taken! + +I turn my face to the wall, and cry quietly to myself. + + + + +GYMNASIYE + + +A man's worst enemy, I tell you, will never do him the harm he does +himself, especially when a woman interferes, that is, a wife. Whom do +you think I have in mind when I say that? My own self! Look at me and +think. What would you take me for? Just an ordinary Jew. It doesn't say +on my nose whether I have money, or not, or whether I am very low +indeed, does it? + +It may be that I once _had_ money, and not only that--money in itself is +nothing--but I can tell you, I earned a living, and that respectably and +quietly, without worry and flurry, not like some people who like to live +in a whirl. + +No, my motto is, "More haste, less speed." + +I traded quietly, went bankrupt a time or two quietly, and quietly went +to work again. But there is a God in the world, and He blessed me with a +wife--as she isn't here, we can speak openly--a wife like any other, +that is, at first glance she isn't so bad--not at all! In person, (no +evil eye!) twice my height; not an ugly woman, quite a beauty, you may +say; an intelligent woman, quite a man--and that's the whole trouble! +Oi, it isn't good when the wife is a man! The Almighty knew what He was +about when, at the creation, he formed Adam first and then Eve. But +what's the use of telling her that, when _she_ says, "If the Almighty +created Adam first and then Eve, that's _His_ affair, but if he put +more sense into my heel than into your head, no more am I to blame for +that!" + +"What is all this about?" say I.--"It's about that which should be first +and foremost with you," says she.--"But I have to be the one to think of +everything--even about sending the boy to the Gymnasiye!"--"Where," say +I, "is it 'written' that my boy should go to the Gymnasiye? Can I not +afford to have him taught Torah at home?"--"I've told you a hundred and +fifty times," says she, "that you won't persuade me to go against the +world! And the world," says she, "has decided that children should go to +the Gymnasiye."--"In my opinion," say I, "the world is mad!"--"And you," +says she, "are the only sane person in it? A pretty thing it would be," +says she, "if the world were to follow you!"--"Every man," say I, +"should decide on his own course."--"If my enemies," says she, "and my +friends' enemies, had as little in pocket and bag, in box and chest, as +you have in your head, the world would be a different place."--"Woe to +the man," say I, "who needs to be advised by his wife!"--"And woe to the +wife," says she, "who has that man to her husband!"--Now if you can +argue with a woman who, when you say one thing, maintains the contrary, +when you give her one word, treats you to a dozen, and who, if you bid +her shut up, cries, or even, I beg of you, faints--well, I envy you, +that's all! In short, up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it--she, not I, because the fact is, when she wants a thing, it +has to be! + +Well, what next? Gymnasiye! The first thing was to prepare the boy for +the elementary class in the Junior Preparatory. I must say, I did not +see anything very alarming in that. It seemed to me that anyone of our +Cheder boys, an Alef-Bes scholar, could tuck it all into his belt, +especially a boy like mine, for whose equal you might search an empire, +and not find him. I am a father, not of you be it said! but that boy has +a memory that beats everything! To cut a long story short, he went up +for examination and--did _not_ pass! You ask the reason? He only got a +two in arithmetic; they said he was weak at calculation, in the science +of mathematics. What do you think of that? He has a memory that beats +everything! I tell you, you might search an empire for his like--and +they come talking to me about mathematics! Well, he failed to pass, and +it vexed me very much. If he _was_ to go up for examination, let him +succeed. However, being a man and not a woman, I made up my mind to +it--it's a misfortune, but a Jew is used to that. Only what was the use +of talking to _her_ with that bee in her bonnet? Once for all, +Gymnasiye! I reason with her. "Tell me," say I, "(may you be well!) what +is the good of it? He's safe," say I, "from military service, being an +only son, and as for Parnosseh, devil I need it for Parnosseh! What do I +care if he _does_ become a trader like his father, a merchant like the +rest of the Jews? If he is destined to become a rich man, a banker, I +don't see that I'm to be pitied." + +Thus do I reason with her as with the wall. "So much the better," says +she, "if he has _not_ been entered for the Junior Preparatory."--"What +now?" say I. + +"Now," says she, "he can go direct to the Senior Preparatory." + +Well, Senior Preparatory, there's nothing so terrible in that, for the +boy has a head, I tell you! You might search an empire.... And what was +the result? Well, what do you suppose? Another two instead of a five, +not in mathematics this time--a fresh calamity! His spelling is not what +it should be. That is, he can spell all right, but he gets a bit mixed +with the two Russian e's. That is, he puts them in right enough, why +shouldn't he? only not in their proper places. Well, there's a +misfortune for you! I guess I won't find the way to Poltava fair if the +child cannot put the e's where they belong! When they brought the good +news, _she_ turned the town inside out; ran to the director, declared +that the boy _could_ do it; to prove it, let him be had up again! They +paid her as much attention as if she were last year's snow, put a two, +and another sort of two, and a two with a dash! Call me nut-crackers, +but there was a commotion. "Failed again!" say I to her. "And if so," +say I, "what is to be done? Are we to commit suicide? A Jew," say I, "is +used to that sort of thing," upon which she fired up and blazed away and +stormed and scolded as only she can. But I let you off! He, poor child, +was in a pitiable state. Talk of cruelty to animals! Just think: the +other boys in little white buttons, and not he! I reason with him: "You +little fool! What does it matter? Who ever heard of an examination at +which everyone passed? Somebody must stay at home, mustn't they? Then +why not you? There's really nothing to make such a fuss about." My wife, +overhearing, goes off into a fresh fury, and falls upon me. "A fine +comforter _you_ are," says she, "who asked you to console him with that +sort of nonsense? You'd better see about getting him a proper teacher," +says she, "a private teacher, a Russian, for grammar!" + +You hear that? Now I must have two teachers for him--one teacher and a +Rebbe are not enough. Up and down, this way and that way, she got the +best of it, as usual. + +What next? We engaged a second teacher, a Russian this time, not a Jew, +preserve us, but a real Gentile, because grammar in the first class, let +me tell you, is no trifle, no shredded horseradish! Gra-ma-ti-ke, +indeed! The two e's! Well, I was telling about the teacher that God sent +us for our sins. It's enough to make one blush to remember the way he +treated us, as though we had been the mud under his feet. Laughed at us +to our face, he did, devil take him, and the one and only thing he could +teach him was: tshasnok, tshasnoka, tshasnoku, tshasnokom. If it hadn't +been for _her_, I should have had him by the throat, and out into the +street with his blessed grammar. But to _her_ it was all right and as it +should be. Now the boy will know which e to put. If you'll believe me, +they tormented him through that whole winter, for he was not to be had +up for slaughter till about Pentecost. Pentecost over, he went up for +examination, and this time he brought home no more two's, but a four and +a five. There was great joy--we congratulate! we congratulate! Wait a +bit, don't be in such a hurry with your congratulations! We don't know +yet for certain whether he has got in or not. We shall not know till +August. Why not till August? Why not before? Go and ask _them_. What is +to be done? A Jew is used to that sort of thing. + +August--and I gave a glance out of the corner of my eye. She was up and +doing! From the director to the inspector, from the inspector to the +director! "Why are you running from Shmunin to Bunin," say I, "like a +poisoned mouse?" + +"You asking why?" says she. "Aren't you a native of this place? You +don't seem to know how it is nowadays with the Gymnasiyes and the +percentages?" And what came of it? He did _not_ pass! You ask why? +Because he hadn't two fives. If he had had two fives, then, they say, +perhaps he would have got in. You hear--perhaps! How do you like that +_perhaps_? Well, I'll let you off what I had to bear from her. As for +him, the little boy, it was pitiful. Lay with his face in the cushion, +and never stopped crying till we promised him another teacher. And we +got him a student from the Gymnasiye itself, to prepare him for the +second class, but after quite another fashion, because the second class +is no joke. In the second, besides mathematics and grammar, they require +geography, penmanship, and I couldn't for the life of me say what else. +I should have thought a bit of the Maharsho was a more difficult thing +than all their studies put together, and very likely had more sense in +it, too. But what would you have? A Jew learns to put up with things. + +In fine, there commenced a series of "lessons," of ourokki. We rose +early--the ourokki! Prayers and breakfast over--the ourokki. A whole +day--ourokki. One heard him late at night drumming it over and over: +Nominative--dative--instrumental--vocative! It grated so on my ears! I +could hardly bear it. Eat? Sleep? Not he! Taking a poor creature and +tormenting it like that, all for nothing, I call it cruelty to animals! +"The child," say I, "will be ill!" "Bite off your tongue," says she. I +was nowhere, and he went up a second time to the slaughter, and brought +home nothing but fives! And why not? I tell you, he has a head--there +isn't his like! And such a boy for study as never was, always at it, day +and night, and repeating to himself between whiles! That's all right +then, is it? Was it all right? When it came to the point, and they hung +out the names of all the children who were really entered, we +looked--mine wasn't there! Then there was a screaming and a commotion. +What a shame! And nothing but fives! _Now_ look at her, now see her go, +see her run, see her do this and that! In short, she went and she ran +and she did this and that and the other--until at last they begged her +not to worry them any longer, that is, to tell you the truth, between +ourselves, they turned her out, yes! And after they had turned her out, +then it was she burst into the house, and showed for the first time, as +it were, what she was worth. "Pray," said she, "what sort of a father +are you? If you were a good father, an affectionate father, like other +fathers, you would have found favor with the director, patronage, +recommendations, this--that!" Like a woman, wasn't it? It's not enough, +apparently, for me to have my head full of terms and seasons and fairs +and notes and bills of exchange and "protests" and all the rest of it. +"Do you want me," say I, "to take over your Gymnasiye and your classes, +things I'm sick of already?" Do you suppose she listened to what I said? +She? Listen? She just kept at it, she sawed and filed and gnawed away +like a worm, day and night, day and night! "If your wife," says she, +"_were_ a wife, and your child, a child--if I were only of _so_ much +account in this house!"--"Well," say I, "what would happen?"--"You would +lie," says she, "nine ells deep in the earth. I," says she, "would bury +you three times a day, so that you should never rise again!" + +How do you like that? Kind, wasn't it? That (how goes the saying?) was +pouring a pailful of water over a husband for the sake of peace. Of +course, you'll understand that I was not silent, either, because, after +all, I'm no more than a man, and every man has his feelings. I assure +you, you needn't envy me, and in the end _she_ carried the day, as +usual. + +Well, what next? I began currying favor, getting up an acquaintance, +trying this and that; I had to lower myself in people's eyes and swallow +slights, for every one asked questions, and they had every right to do +so. "You, no evil eye, Reb Aaron," say they, "are a householder, and +inherited a little something from your father. What good year is taking +you about to places where a Jew had better not be seen?" Was I to go and +tell them I had a wife (may she live one hundred and twenty years!) with +this on the brain: Gymnasiye, Gymnasiye, and Gym-na-si-ye? I (much good +may it do you!) am, as you see me, no more unlucky than most people, and +with God's help I made my way, and got where I wanted, right up to the +nobleman, into his cabinet, yes! And sat down with him there to talk it +over. I thank Heaven, I can talk to any nobleman, I don't need to have +my tongue loosened for me. "What can I do for you?" he asks, and bids me +be seated. Say I, and whisper into his ear, "My lord," say I, "we," say +I, "are not rich people, but we have," say I, "a boy, and he wishes to +study, and I," say I, "wish it, too, but my wife wishes it very much!" +Says he to me again, "What is it you want?" Say I to him, and edge a bit +closer, "My dear lord," say I, "we," say I, "are not rich people, but we +have," say I, "a small fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say +I, "wishes to study; and I," say I, "also wish it, but my wife wishes it +_very much_!" and I squeeze that "very much" so that he may understand. +But he's a Gentile and slow-witted, and he doesn't twig, and this time +he asks angrily, "Then, whatever is it you want?!" I quietly put my hand +into my pocket and quietly take it out again, and I say quietly: "Pardon +me, we," say I, "are not rich people, but we have a little," say I, +"fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say I, "wishes to study; +and I," say I, "wish it also, but my wife," say I, "wishes it very much +indeed!" and I take and press into his hand----and this time, yes! he +understood, and went and got a note-book, and asked my name and my son's +name, and which class I wanted him entered for. + +"Oho, lies the wind that way?" think I to myself, and I give him to +understand that I am called Katz, Aaron Katz, and my son, Moisheh, +Moshke we call him, and I want to get him into the third class. Says he +to me, if I am Katz, and my son is Moisheh, Moshke we call him, and he +wants to get into class three, I am to bring him in January, and he will +certainly be passed. You hear and understand? Quite another thing! +Apparently the horse trots as we shoe him. The worst is having to wait. +But what is to be done? When they say, Wait! one waits. A Jew is used to +waiting. + +January--a fresh commotion, a scampering to and fro. To-morrow there +will be a consultation. The director and the inspector and all the +teachers of the Gymnasiye will come together, and it's only after the +consultation that we shall know if he is entered or not. The time for +action has come, and my wife is anywhere but at home. No hot meals, no +samovar, no nothing! She is in the Gymnasiye, that is, not _in_ the +Gymnasiye, but _at_ it, walking round and round it in the frost, from +first thing in the morning, waiting for them to begin coming away from +the consultation. The frost bites, there is a tearing east wind, and she +paces round and round the building, and waits. Once a woman, always a +woman! It seemed to me, that when people have made a promise, it is +surely sacred, especially--you understand? But who would reason with a +woman? Well, she waited one hour, she waited two, waited three, waited +four; the children were all home long ago, and she waited on. She waited +(much good may it do you!) till she got what she was waiting for. A door +opens, and out comes one of the teachers. She springs and seizes hold on +him. Does he know the result of the consultation? Why, says he, should +he not? They have passed altogether twenty-five children, twenty-three +Christian and two Jewish. Says she, "Who are they?" Says he, "One a +Shefselsohn and one a Katz." At the name Katz, my wife shoots home like +an arrow from the bow, and bursts into the room in triumph: "Good news! +good news! Passed, passed!" and there are tears in her eyes. Of course, +I am pleased, too, but I don't feel called upon to go dancing, being a +man and not a woman. "It's evidently not much _you_ care?" says she to +me. "What makes you think that?" say I.--"This," says she, "you sit +there cold as a stone! If you knew how impatient the child is, you would +have taken him long ago to the tailor's, and ordered his little +uniform," says she, "and a cap and a satchel," says she, "and made a +little banquet for our friends."--"Why a banquet, all of a sudden?" say +I. "Is there a Bar-Mitzveh? Is there an engagement?" I say all this +quite quietly, for, after all, I am a man, not a woman. She grew so +angry that she stopped talking. And when a woman stops talking, it's a +thousand times worse than when she scolds, because so long as she is +scolding at least you hear the sound of the human voice. Otherwise it's +talk to the wall! To put it briefly, she got her way--she, not I--as +usual. + +There was a banquet; we invited our friends and our good friends, and my +boy was dressed up from head to foot in a very smart uniform, with white +buttons and a cap with a badge in front, quite the district-governor! +And it did one's heart good to see him, poor child! There was new life +in him, he was so happy, and he shone, I tell you, like the July sun! +The company drank to him, and wished him joy: Might he study in health, +and finish the course in health, and go on in health, till he reached +the university! "Ett!" say I, "we can do with less. Let him only +complete the eight classes at the Gymnasiye," say I, "and, please God, +I'll make a bridegroom of him, with God's help." Cries my wife, smiling +and fixing me with her eye the while, "Tell him," says she, "that he's +wrong! He," says she, "keeps to the old-fashioned cut." "Tell her from +me," say I, "that I'm blest if the old-fashioned cut wasn't better than +the new." Says she, "Tell him that he (may he forgive me!) is----" The +company burst out laughing. "Oi, Reb Aaron," say they, "you have a wife +(no evil eye!) who is a Cossack and not a wife at all!" Meanwhile they +emptied their wine-glasses, and cleared their plates, and we were what +is called "lively." I and my wife were what is called "taken into the +boat," the little one in the middle, and we made merry till daylight. +That morning early we took him to the Gymnasiye. It was very early, +indeed, the door was shut, not a soul to be seen. Standing outside there +in the frost, we were glad enough when the door opened, and they let us +in. Directly after that the small fry began to arrive with their +satchels, and there was a noise and a commotion and a chatter and a +laughing and a scampering to and fro--a regular fair! Schoolboys jumped +over one another, gave each other punches, pokes, and pinches. As I +looked at these young hopefuls with the red cheeks, with the merry, +laughing eyes, I called to mind our former narrow, dark, and gloomy +Cheder of long ago years, and I saw that after all she was right; she +might be a woman, but she had a man's head on her shoulders! And as I +reflected thus, there came along an individual in gilt buttons, who +turned out to be a teacher, and asked what I wanted. I pointed to my +boy, and said I had come to bring him to Cheder, that is, to the +Gymnasiye. He asked to which class? I tell him, the third, and he has +only just been entered. He asks his name. Say I, "Katz, Moisheh Katz, +that is, Moshke Katz." Says he, "Moshke Katz?" He has no Moshke Katz in +the third class. "There is," he says, "a Katz, only not a Moshke Katz, +but a Morduch--Morduch Katz." Say I, "What Morduch? Moshke, not +Morduch!" "Morduch!" he repeats, and thrusts the paper into my face. I +to him, "Moshke." He to me, "Morduch!" In short, Moshke--Morduch, +Morduch--Moshke, we hammer away till there comes out a fine tale: that +which should have been mine is another's. You see what a kettle of fish? +A regular Gentile muddle! They have entered a Katz--yes! But, by +mistake, another, not ours. You see how it was: there were two Katz's in +our town! What do you say to such luck? I have made a bed, and another +will lie in it! No, but you ought to know who the other is, _that_ Katz, +I mean! A nothing of a nobody, an artisan, a bookbinder or a carpenter, +quite a harmless little man, but who ever heard of him? A pauper! And +_his_ son--yes! And mine--no! Isn't it enough to disgust one, I ask you! +And you should have seen that poor boy of mine, when he was told to take +the badge off his cap! No bride on her wedding-day need shed more tears +than were his! And no matter how I reasoned with him, whether I coaxed +or scolded. "You see," I said to her, "what you've done! Didn't I tell +you that your Gymnasiye was a slaughter-house for him? I only trust this +may have a good ending, that he won't fall ill."--"Let my enemies," said +she, "fall ill, if they like. My child," says she, "must enter the +Gymnasiye. If he hasn't got in this time, in a year, please God, he +_will_. If he hasn't got in," says she, "_here_, he will get in in +another town--he _must_ get in! Otherwise," says she, "I shall shut an +eye, and the earth shall cover me!" You hear what she said? And who, do +you suppose, had his way--she or I? When _she_ sets her heart on a +thing, can there be any question? + +Well, I won't make a long story of it. I hunted up and down with him; we +went to the ends of the world, wherever there was a town and a +Gymnasiye, thither went we! We went up for examination, and were +examined, and we passed and passed high, and did _not_ get in--and why? +All because of the percentage! You may believe, I looked upon my own +self as crazy those days! "Wretch! what is this? What is this flying +that you fly from one town to another? What good is to come of it? And +suppose he does get in, what then?" No, say what you will, ambition is a +great thing. In the end it took hold of me, too, and the Almighty had +compassion, and sent me a Gymnasiye in Poland, a "commercial" one, where +they took in one Jew to every Christian. It came to fifty per cent. But +what then? Any Jew who wished his son to enter must bring his Christian +with him, and if he passes, that is, the Christian, and one pays his +entrance fee, then there is hope. Instead of one bundle, one has two on +one's shoulders, you understand? Besides being worn with anxiety about +my own, I had to tremble for the other, because if Esau, which Heaven +forbid, fail to pass, it's all over with Jacob. But what I went through +before I _got_ that Christian, a shoemaker's son, Holiava his name was, +is not to be described. And the best of all was this--would you believe +that my shoemaker, planted in the earth firmly as Korah, insisted on +Bible teaching? There was nothing for it but my son had to sit down +beside his, and repeat the Old Testament. How came a son of mine to the +Old Testament? Ai, don't ask! He can do everything and understands +everything. + +With God's help the happy day arrived, and they both passed. Is my story +finished? Not quite. When it came to their being entered in the books, +to writing out a check, my Christian was not to be found! What has +happened? He, the Gentile, doesn't care for his son to be among so many +Jews--he won't hear of it! Why should he, seeing that all doors are open +to him anyhow, and he can get in where he pleases? Tell him it isn't +fair? Much good that would be! "Look here," say I, "how much do you +want, Pani Holiava?" Says he, "Nothing!" To cut the tale short--up and +down, this way and that way, and friends and people interfering, we had +him off to a refreshment place, and ordered a glass, and two, and three, +before it all came right! Once he was really in, I cried my eyes out, +and thanks be to Him whose Name is blessed, and who has delivered me out +of all my troubles! When I got home, a fresh worry! What now? My wife +has been reflecting and thinking it over: After all, her only son, the +apple of her eye--he would be _there_ and we _here_! And if so, what, +says she, would life be to her? "Well," say I, "what do you propose +doing?"--"What I propose doing?" says she. "Can't you guess? I propose," +says she, "to be with him."--"You do?" say I. "And the house? What about +the house?"--"The house," says she, "is a house." Anything to object to +in that? So she was off to him, and I was left alone at home. And what a +home! I leave you to imagine. May such a year be to my enemies! My +comfort was gone, the business went to the bad. Everything went to the +bad, and we were continually writing letters. I wrote to her, she wrote +to me--letters went and letters came. Peace to my beloved wife! Peace to +my beloved husband! "For Heaven's sake," I write, "what is to be the end +of it? After all, I'm no more than a man! A man without a +housemistress!" It was as much use as last year's snow; it was she who +had her way, she, and not I, as usual. + +To make an end of my story, I worked and worried myself to pieces, made +a mull of the whole business, sold out, became a poor man, and carried +my bundle over to them. Once there, I took a look round to see where I +was in the world, nibbled here and there, just managed to make my way a +bit, and entered into a partnership with a trader, quite a respectable +man, yes! A well-to-do householder, holding office in the Shool, but at +bottom a deceiver, a swindler, a pickpocket, who was nearly the ruin of +me! You can imagine what a cheerful state of things it was. Meanwhile I +come home one evening, and see my boy come to meet me, looking +strangely red in the face, and without a badge on his cap. Say I to him, +"Look here, Moshehl, where's your badge?" Says he to me, "Whatever +badge?" Say I, "The button." Says he, "Whatever button?" Say I, "The +button off your cap." It was a new cap with a new badge, only just +bought for the festival! He grows redder than before, and says, "Taken +off." Say I, "What do you mean by 'taken off'?" Says he, "I am free." +Say I, "What do you mean by 'you are free'?" Says he, "We are _all_ +free." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are _all_ free'?" Says he, "We +are not going back any more." Say I, "What do you mean by 'we are not +going back'?" Says he, "We have united in the resolve to stay away." Say +I, "What do you mean by '_you_' have united in a resolve? Who are 'you'? +What is all this? Bless your grandmother," say I, "do you suppose I have +been through all this for you to unite in a resolve? Alas! and alack!" +say I, "for you and me and all of us! May it please God not to let this +be visited on Jewish heads, because always and everywhere," say I, "Jews +are the scapegoats." I speak thus to him and grow angry and reprove him +as a father usually does reprove a child. But I have a wife (long life +to her!), and she comes running, and washes my head for me, tells me I +don't know what is going on in the world, that the world is quite +another world to what it used to be, an intelligent world, an open +world, a free world, "a world," says she, "in which all are equal, in +which there are no rich and no poor, no masters and no servants, no +sheep and no shears, no cats, rats, no piggy-wiggy--------" "Te-te-te!" +say I, "where have you learned such fine language? a new speech," say I, +"with new words. Why not open the hen-house, and let out the hens? +Chuck--chuck--chuck, hurrah for freedom!" Upon which she blazes up as if +I had poured ten pails of hot water over her. And now for it! As only +_they_ can! Well, one must sit it out and listen to the end. The worst +of it is, there is no end. "Look here," say I, "hush!" say I, "and now +let be!" say I, and beat upon my breast. "I have sinned!" say I, "I have +transgressed, and now stop," say I, "if you would only be quiet!" But +she won't hear, and she won't see. No, she says, she will know why and +wherefore and for goodness' sake and exactly, and just how it was, and +what it means, and how it happened, and once more and a second time, and +all over again from the beginning! + +I beg of you--who set the whole thing going? A--woman! + + + + +ELIEZER DAVID ROSENTHAL + + +Born, 1861, in Chotin, Bessarabia; went to Breslau, Germany, in 1880, +and pursued studies at the University; returned to Bessarabia in 1882; +co-editor of the Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and +Kishineff, 1905; writer of stories. + + + + +SABBATH + + +Friday evening! + +The room has been tidied, the table laid. Two Sabbath loaves have been +placed upon it, and covered with a red napkin. At the two ends are two +metal candlesticks, and between them two more of earthenware, with +candles in them ready to be lighted. + +On the small sofa that stands by the stove lies a sick man covered up +with a red quilt, from under the quilt appears a pale, emaciated face, +with red patches on the dried-up cheeks and a black beard. The sufferer +wears a nightcap, which shows part of his black hair and his black +earlocks. There is no sign of life in his face, and only a faint one in +his great, black eyes. + +On a chair by the couch sits a nine-year-old girl with damp locks, which +have just been combed out in honor of Sabbath. She is barefoot, dressed +only in a shirt and a frock. The child sits swinging her feet, absorbed +in what she is doing; but all her movements are gentle and noiseless. + +The invalid coughed. + +"Kche, kche, kche, kche," came from the sofa. + +"What is it, Tate?" asked the little girl, swinging her feet. + +The invalid made no reply. + +He slowly raised his head with both hands, pulled down the nightcap, and +coughed and coughed and coughed, hoarsely at first, then louder, the +cough tearing at his sick chest and dinning in the ears. Then he sat +up, and went on coughing and clearing his throat, till he had brought up +the phlegm. + +The little girl continued to be absorbed in her work and to swing her +feet, taking very little notice of her sick father. + +The invalid smoothed the creases in the cushion, laid his head down +again, and closed his eyes. He lay thus for a few minutes, then he said +quite quietly: + +"Leah!" + +"What is it, Tate?" inquired the child again, still swinging her feet. + +"Tell ... mother ... it is ... time to ... bless ... the candles...." + +The little girl never moved from her seat, but shouted through the open +door into the shop: + +"Mother, shut up shop! Father says it's time for candle-blessing." + +"I'm coming, I'm coming," answered her mother from the shop. + +She quickly disposed of a few women customers: sold one a kopek's worth +of tea, the other, two kopeks' worth of sugar, the third, two tallow +candles. Then she closed the shutters and the street door, and came into +the room. + +"You've drunk the glass of milk?" she inquired of the sick man. + +"Yes ... I have ... drunk it," he replied. + +"And you, Leahnyu, daughter," and she turned to the child, "may the evil +spirit take you! Couldn't you put on your shoes without my telling you? +Don't you know it's Sabbath?" + +The little girl hung her head, and made no other answer. + +Her mother went to the table, lighted the candles, covered her face with +her hands, and blessed them. + +After that she sat down on the seat by the window to take a rest. + +It was only on Sabbath that she could rest from her hard work, toiling +and worrying as she was the whole week long with all her strength and +all her mind. + +She sat lost in thought. + +She was remembering past happy days. + +She also had known what it is to enjoy life, when her husband was in +health, and they had a few hundred rubles. They finished boarding with +her parents, they set up a shop, and though he had always been a close +frequenter of the house-of-study, a bench-lover, he soon learnt the +Torah of commerce. She helped him, and they made a livelihood, and ate +their bread in honor. But in course of time some quite new shops were +started in the little town, there was great competition, the trade was +small, and the gains were smaller, it became necessary to borrow money +on interest, on weekly payment, and to pay for goods at once. The +interest gradually ate up the capital with the gains. The creditors took +what they could lay hands on, and still her husband remained in their +debt. + +He could not get over this, and fell ill. + +The whole bundle of trouble fell upon her: the burden of a livelihood, +the children, the sick man, everything, everything, on her. + +But she did not lose heart. + +"God will help, _he_ will soon get well, and will surely find some work. +God will not desert us," so she reflected, and meantime she was not +sitting idle. + +The very difficulty of her position roused her courage, and gave her +strength. + +She sold her small store of jewelry, and set up a little shop. + +Three years have passed since then. + +However it may be, God has not abandoned her, and however bitter and +sour the struggle for Parnosseh may have been, she had her bit of bread. +Only his health did not return, he grew daily weaker and worse. + +She glanced at her sick husband, at his pale, emaciated face, and tears +fell from her eyes. + +During the week she has no time to think how unhappy she is. Parnosseh, +housework, attendance on the children and the sick man--these things +take up all her time and thought. She is glad when it comes to bedtime, +and she can fall, dead tired, onto her bed. + +But on Sabbath, the day of rest, she has time to think over her hard lot +and all her misery and to cry herself out. + +"When will there be an end of my troubles and suffering?" she asked +herself, and could give no answer whatever to the question beyond +despairing tears. She saw no ray of hope lighting her future, only a +great, wide, shoreless sea of trouble. + +It flashed across her: + +"When he dies, things will be easier." + +But the thought of his death only increased her apprehension. + +It brought with it before her eyes the dreadful words: widow, orphans, +poor little fatherless children.... + +These alarmed her more than her present distress. + +How can children grow up without a father? Now, even though he's ill, he +keeps an eye on them, tells them to say their prayers and to study. Who +is to watch over them if he dies? + +"Don't punish me, Lord of the World, for my bad thought," she begged +with her whole heart. "I will take it upon myself to suffer and trouble +for all, only don't let him die, don't let me be called by the bitter +name of widow, don't let my children be called orphans!" + + * * * * * + +He sits upon his couch, his head a little thrown back and leaning +against the wall. In one hand he holds a prayer-book--he is receiving +the Sabbath into his house. His pale lips scarcely move as he whispers +the words before him, and his thoughts are far from the prayer. He knows +that he is dangerously ill, he knows what his wife has to suffer and +bear, and not only is he powerless to help her, but his illness is her +heaviest burden, what with the extra expense incurred on his account and +the trouble of looking after him. Besides which, his weakness makes him +irritable, and his anger has more than once caused her unmerited pain. +He sees and knows it all, and his heart is torn with grief. "Only death +can help us," he murmurs, and while his lips repeat the words of the +prayer-book, his heart makes one request to God and only one: that God +should send kind Death to deliver him from his trouble and misery. + +Suddenly the door opened and a ten-year-old boy came into the room, in a +long Sabbath cloak, with two long earlocks, and a prayer-book under his +arm. + +"A good Sabbath!" said the little boy, with a loud, ringing voice. + +It seemed as if he and the holy Sabbath had come into the room together! +In one moment the little boy had driven trouble and sadness out of +sight, and shed light and consolation round him. + +His "good Sabbath!" reached his parents' hearts, awoke there new life +and new hopes. + +"A good Sabbath!" answered the mother. Her eyes rested on the child's +bright face, and her thoughts were no longer melancholy as before, for +she saw in his eyes a whole future of happy possibilities. + +"A good Sabbath!" echoed the lips of the sick man, and he took a deeper, +easier breath. No, he will not die altogether, he will live again after +death in the child. He can die in peace, he leaves a Kaddish behind +him. + + + + +YOM KIPPUR + + +Erev Yom Kippur, Minchah time! + +The Eve of the Day of Atonement, at Afternoon Prayer time. + +A solemn and sacred hour for every Jew. + +Everyone feels as though he were born again. + +All the week-day worries, the two-penny-half-penny interests, seem far, +far away; or else they have hidden themselves in some corner. Every Jew +feels a noble pride, an inward peace mingled with fear and awe. He knows +that the yearly Judgment Day is approaching, when God Almighty will hold +the scales in His hand and weigh every man's merits against his +transgressions. The sentence given on that day is one of life or death. +No trifle! But the Jew is not so terrified as you might think--he has +broad shoulders. Besides, he has a certain footing behind the "upper +windows," he has good advocates and plenty of them; he has the "binding +of Isaac" and a long chain of ancestors and ancestresses, who were put +to death for the sanctification of the Holy Name, who allowed themselves +to be burnt and roasted for the sake of God's Torah. Nishkoshe! Things +are not so bad. The Lord of All may just remember that, and look aside a +little. Is He not the Compassionate, the Merciful? + +The shadows lengthen and lengthen. + +Jews are everywhere in commotion. + +Some hurry home straight from the bath, drops of bath-water dripping +from beard and earlocks. They have not even dried their hair properly in +their haste. + +It is time to prepare for the davvening. Some are already on their way +to Shool, robed in white. Nearly every Jew carries in one hand a large, +well-packed Tallis-bag, which to-day, besides the prayer-scarf, holds +the whole Jewish outfit: a bulky prayer-book, a book of Psalms, a +Likkute Zevi, and so on; and in the other hand, two wax-candles, one a +large one, that is the "light of life," and the other a small one, a +shrunken looking thing, which is the "soul-light." + +The Tamschevate house-of-study presents at this moment the following +picture: the floor is covered with fresh hay, and the dust and the smell +of the hay fill the whole building. Some of the men are standing at +their prayers, beating their breasts in all seriousness. "We have +trespassed, we have been faithless, we have robbed," with an occasional +sob of contrition. Others are very busy setting up their wax-lights in +boxes filled with sand; one of them, a young man who cannot live without +it, betakes himself to the platform and repeats a "Bless ye the Lord." +Meantime another comes slyly, and takes out two of the candles standing +before the platform, planting his own in their place. Not far from the +ark stands the beadle with a strap in his hand, and all the foremost +householders go up to him, lay themselves down with their faces to the +ground, and the beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows apiece, and not +one of them bears him any grudge. Even Reb Groinom, from whom the beadle +never hears anything from one Yom Kippur to another but "may you be ... +"and "rascal," "impudence," "brazen face," "spendthrift," "carrion," +"dog of all dogs"--and not infrequently Reb Groinom allows himself to +apply his right hand to the beadle's cheek, and the latter has to take +it all in a spirit of love--this same Reb Groinom now humbly approaches +the same poor beadle, lies quietly down with his face to the ground, +stretches himself out, and the beadle deliberately counts the strokes up +to "thirty-nine Malkes." Covered with hay, Reb Groinom rises slowly, a +piteous expression on his face, just as if he had been well thrashed, +and he pushes a coin into the Shamash's hand. This is evidently the +beadle's day! To-day he can take his revenge on his householders for the +insults and injuries of a whole year! + +But if you want to be in the thick of it all, you must stand in the +anteroom by the door, where people are crowding round the plates for +collections. The treasurer sits beside a little table with the directors +of the congregation; the largest plate lies before them. To one side of +them sits the cantor with his plate, and beside the cantor, several +house-of-study youths with theirs. On every plate lies a paper with a +written notice: "Visiting the Sick," "Supporting the Fallen," "Clothing +the Naked," "Talmud Torah," "Refuge for the Poor," and so forth. Over +one plate, marked "The Return to the Land of Israel," presides a modern +young man, a Zionist. Everyone wishing to enter the house-of-study must +first go to the plates marked "Call to the Torah" and "Seat in the +Shool," put in what is his due, and then throw a few kopeks into the +other plates. + + * * * * * + +Berel Tzop bustled up to the plate "Seat in the Shool," gave what was +expected of him, popped a few coppers into the other plates, and +prepared to recite the Afternoon Prayer. He wanted to pause a little +between the words of his prayer, to attend to their meaning, to impress +upon himself that this was the Eve of the Day of Atonement! But idle +thoughts kept coming into his head, as though on purpose to annoy him, +and his mind was all over the place at once! The words of the prayers +got mixed up with the idea of oats, straw, wheat, and barley, and +however much trouble he took to drive these idle thoughts away, he did +not succeed. "Blow the great trumpet of our deliverance!" shouted Berel, +and remembered the while that Ivan owed him ten measures of wheat. +"...lift up the ensign to gather our exiles!..."--"and I made a mistake +in Stephen's account by thirty kopeks...." Berel saw that it was +impossible for him to pray with attention, and he began to reel off the +Eighteen Benedictions, but not till he reached the Confession could he +collect his scattered thoughts, and realize what he was saying. When he +raised his hands to beat his breast at "We have trespassed, we have +robbed," the hand remained hanging in the air, half-way. A shudder went +through his limbs, the letters of the words "we have robbed" began to +grow before his eyes, they became gigantic, they turned strange +colors--red, blue, green, and yellow--now they took the form of large +frogs--they got bigger and bigger, crawled into his eyes, croaked in his +ears: You are a thief, a robber, you have stolen and plundered! You +think nobody saw, that it would all run quite smoothly, but you are +wrong! We shall stand before the Throne of Glory and cry: You are a +thief, a robber! + +Berel stood some time with his hand raised midway in the air. + +The whole affair of the hundred rubles rose before his eyes. + +A couple of months ago he had gone into the house of Reb Moisheh +Chalfon. The latter had just gone out, there was nobody else in the +room, nobody had even seen him come in. + +The key was in the desk--Berel had looked at it, had hardly touched +it--the drawer had opened as though of itself--several +hundred-ruble-notes had lain glistening before his eyes! Just that day, +Berel had received a very unpleasant letter from the father of his +daughter's bridegroom, and to make matters worse, the author of the +letter was in the right. Berel had been putting off the marriage for two +years, and the Mechutton wrote quite plainly, that unless the wedding +took place after Tabernacles, he should return him the contract. + +"Return the contract!" the fiery letters burnt into Berel's brain. + +He knew his Mechutton well. The Misnaggid! He wouldn't hesitate to tear +up a marriage contract, either! And when it's a question of a by no +means pretty girl of twenty and odd years! And the kind of bridegroom +anybody might be glad to have secured for his daughter! And then to +think that only one of those hundred-ruble-notes lying tossed together +in that drawer would help him out of all his troubles. And the Evil +Inclination whispers in his ear: "Berel, now or never! There will be an +end to all your worry! Don't you see, it's a godsend." He, Berel, +wrestled with him hard. He remembers it all distinctly, and he can hear +now the faint little voice of the Good Inclination: "Berel, to become a +thief in one's latter years! You who so carefully avoided even the +smallest deceit! Fie, for shame! If God will, he can help you by honest +means too." But the voice of the Good Inclination was so feeble, so +husky, and the Evil Inclination suggested in his other ear: "Do you know +what? _Borrow_ one hundred rubles! Who talks of stealing? You will earn +some money before long, and then you can pay him back--it's a charitable +loan on his part, only that he doesn't happen to know of it. Isn't it +plain to be seen that it's a godsend? If you don't call this Providence, +what is? Are you going to take more than you really need? You know your +Mechutton? Have you taken a good look at that old maid of yours? You +recollect the bridegroom? Well, the Mechutton will be kind and mild as +milk. The bridegroom will be a 'silken son-in-law,' the ugly old maid, a +young wife--fool! God and men will envy you...." And he, Berel, lost his +head, his thoughts flew hither and thither, like frightened birds, +and--he no longer knew which of the two voices was that of the Good +Inclination, and-- + +No one saw him leave Moisheh Chalfon's house. + +And still his hand remains suspended in mid-air, still it does not fall +against his breast, and there is a cold perspiration on his brow. + +Berel started, as though out of his sleep. He had noticed that people +were beginning to eye him as he stood with his hand held at a distance +from his person. He hastily rattled through "For the sin, ..." concluded +the Eighteen Benedictions, and went home. + +At home, he didn't dawdle, he only washed his hands, recited "Who +bringest forth bread," and that was all. The food stuck in his throat, +he said grace, returned to Shool, put on the Tallis, and started to +intone tunefully the Prayer of Expiation. + + * * * * * + +The lighted wax-candles, the last rays of the sun stealing in through +the windows of the house-of-study, the congregation entirely robed in +white and enfolded in the prayer-scarfs, the intense seriousness +depicted on all faces, the hum of voices, and the bitter weeping that +penetrated from the women's gallery, all this suited Berel's mood, his +contrite heart. Berel had recited the Prayer of Expiation with deep +feeling; tears poured from his eyes, his own broken voice went right +through his heart, every word found an echo there, and he felt it in +every limb. Berel stood before God like a little child before its +parents: he wept and told all that was in his heavily-laden heart, the +full tale of his cares and troubles. Berel was pleased with himself, he +felt that he was not saying the words anyhow, just rolling them off his +tongue, but he was really performing an act of penitence with his whole +heart. He felt remorse for his sins, and God is a God of compassion and +mercy, who will certainly pardon him. + +"Therefore is my heart sad," began Berel, "that the sin which a man +commits against his neighbor cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement, unless he asks his neighbor's forgiveness ... therefore is my +heart broken and my limbs tremble, because even the day of my death +cannot atone for this sin." + +Berel began to recite this in pleasing, artistic fashion, weeping and +whimpering like a spoiled child, and drawling out the words, when it +grew dark before his eyes. Berel had suddenly become aware that he was +in the position of one about to go in through an open door. He advances, +he must enter, it is a question of life and death. And without any +warning, just as he is stepping across the threshold, the door is shut +from within with a terrible bang, and he remains standing outside. + +And he has read this in the Prayer of Expiation? With fear and +fluttering he reads it over again, looking narrowly at every word--a +cold sweat covers him--the words prick him like pins. Are these two +verses his pitiless judges, are they the expression of his sentence? Is +he already condemned? "Ay, ay, you are guilty," flicker the two verses +on the page before him, and prayer and tears are no longer of any avail. +His heart cried to God: "Have pity, merciful Father! A grown-up +girl--what am I to do with her? And his father wanted to break off the +engagement. As soon as I have earned the money, I will give it back...." +But he knew all the time that these were useless subterfuges; the Lord +of the Universe can only pardon the sin committed against Himself, the +sin committed against man cannot be atoned for even on the Day of +Atonement! + +Berel took another look at the Prayer of Expiation. The words, "unless +he asks his neighbor's forgiveness," danced before his eyes. A ray of +hope crept into his despairing heart. One way is left open to him: he +can confess to Moisheh Chalfon! But the hope was quickly extinguished. +Is that a small matter? What of my honor, my good name? And what of the +match? "Mercy, O Father," he cried, "have mercy!" + +Berel proceeded no further with the Prayer of Expiation. He stood lost +in his melancholy thoughts, his whole life passed before his eyes. He, +Berel, had never licked honey, trouble had been his in plenty, he had +known cares and worries, but God had never abandoned him. It had +frequently happened to him in the course of his life to think he was +lost, to give up all his hope. But each time God had extricated him +unexpectedly from his difficulty, and not only that, but lawfully, +honestly, Jewishly. And now--he had suddenly lost his trust in the +Providence of His dear Name! "Donkey!" thus Berel abused himself, "went +to look for trouble, did you? Now you've got it! Sold yourself body and +soul for one hundred rubles! Thief! thief! thief!" It did Berel good to +abuse himself like this, it gave him a sort of pleasure to aggravate his +wounds. + +Berel, sunk in his sad reflections, has forgotten where he is in the +world. The congregation has finished the Prayer of Expiation, and is +ready for Kol Nidre. The cantor is at his post at the reading-desk on +the platform, two of the principal, well-to-do Jews, with Torahs in +their hands, on each side of him. One of them is Moisheh Chalfon. There +is a deep silence in the building. The very last rays of the sun are +slanting in through the window, and mingling with the flames of the +wax-candles.... + +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed," +startled Berel's ears. It was Moisheh Chalfon's voice. The voice was +low, sweet, and sad. Berel gave a side glance at where Moisheh Chalfon +was standing, and it seemed to him that Moisheh Chalfon was doing the +same to him, only Moisheh Chalfon was looking not into his eyes, but +deep into his heart, and there reading the word Thief! And Moisheh +Chalfon is permitting the people to pray together with him, Berel the +thief! + +"Mercy, mercy, compassionate God!" cried Berel's heart in its despair. + + * * * * * + +They had concluded Maariv, recited the first four chapters of the Psalms +and the Song of Unity, and the people went home, to lay in new strength +for the morrow. + +There remained only a few, who spent the greater part of the night +repeating Psalms, intoning the Mishnah, and so on; they snatched an +occasional doze on the bare floor overlaid with a whisp of hay, an old +cloak under their head. Berel also stayed the night in the +house-of-study. He sat down in a corner, in robe and Tallis, and began +reciting Psalms with a pleasing pathos, and he went on until overtaken +by sleep. At first he resisted, he took a nice pinch of snuff, rubbed +his eyes, collected his thoughts, but it was no good. The covers of the +book of Psalms seemed to have been greased, for they continually slipped +from his grasp, the printed lines had grown crooked and twisted, his +head felt dreadfully heavy, and his eyelids clung together; his nose was +forever drooping towards the book of Psalms. He made every effort to +keep awake, started up every time as though he had burnt himself, but +sleep was the stronger of the two. Gradually he slid from the bench onto +the floor; the Psalter slipped finally from between his fingers, his +head dropped onto the hay, and he fell sweetly asleep.... + +And Berel had a dream: + +Yom Kippur, and yet there is a fair in the town, the kind of fair one +calls an "earthquake," a fair such as Berel does not remember having +seen these many years, so crowded is it with men and merchandise. There +is something of everything--cattle, horses, sheep, corn, and fruit. All +the Tamschevate Jews are strolling round with their wives and children, +there is buying and selling, the air is full of noise and shouting, the +whole fair is boiling and hissing and humming like a kettle. One runs +this way and one that way, this one is driving a cow, that one leading +home a horse by the rein, the other buying a whole cart-load of corn. +Berel is all astonishment and curiosity: how is it possible for Jews to +busy themselves with commerce on Yom Kippur? on such a holy day? As far +back as he can remember, Jews used to spend the whole day in Shool, in +linen socks, white robe, and prayer-scarf. They prayed and wept. And now +what has come over them, that they should be trading on Yom Kippur, as +if it were a common week-day, in shoes and boots (this last struck him +more than anything)? Perhaps it is all a dream? thought Berel in his +sleep. But no, it is no dream! "Here I am strolling round the fair, wide +awake. And the screaming and the row in my ears, is that a dream, too? +And my having this very minute been bumped on the shoulder by a Gentile +going past me with a horse--is that a dream? But if the whole world is +taking part in the fair, it's evidently the proper thing to do...." +Meanwhile he was watching a peasant with a horse, and he liked the look +of the horse so much that he bought it and mounted it. And he looked at +it from where he sat astride, and saw the horse was a horse, but at the +selfsame time it was Moisheh Chalfon as well. Berel wondered: how is it +possible for it to be at once a horse and a man? But his own eyes told +him it was so. He wanted to dismount, but the horse bears him to a shop. +Here he climbed down and asked for a pound of sugar. Berel kept his eyes +on the scales, and--a fresh surprise! Where they should have been +weighing sugar, they were weighing his good and bad deeds. And the two +scales were nearly equally laden, and oscillated up and down in the +air.... + +Suddenly they threw a sheet of paper into the scale that held his bad +deeds. Berel looked to see--it was the hundred-ruble-note which he had +appropriated at Moisheh Chalfon's! But it was now much larger, bordered +with black, and the letters and numbers were red as fire. The piece of +paper was frightfully heavy, it was all two men could do to carry it to +the weighing-machine, and when they had thrown it with all their might +onto the scale, something snapped, and the scale went down, down, down. + +At that moment a man sleeping at Berel's head stretched out a foot, and +gave Berel a kick in the head. Berel awoke. + +Not far from him sat a grey-haired old Jew, huddled together, enfolded +in a Tallis and robe, repeating Psalms with a melancholy chant and a +broken, quavering voice. + +Berel caught the words: + + "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: + For the end of that man is peace. + But the transgressors shall be destroyed together: + The latter end of the wicked shall be cut off...." + +Berel looked round in a fright: Where is he? He had quite forgotten that +he had remained for the night in the house-of-study. He gazed round with +sleepy eyes, and they fell on some white heaps wrapped in robes and +prayer-scarfs, while from their midst came the low, hoarse, tearful +voices of two or three men who had not gone to sleep and were repeating +Psalms. Many of the candles were already sputtering, the wax was melting +into the sand, the flames rose and fell, and rose again, flaring +brightly. + +And the pale moon looked in at the windows, and poured her silvery light +over the fantastic scene. + +Berel grew icy cold, and a dreadful shuddering went through his limbs. + +He had not yet remembered that he was spending the night in the +house-of-study. + +He imagined that he was dead, and astray in limbo. The white heaps which +he sees are graves, actual graves, and there among the graves sit a few +sinful souls, and bewail and lament their transgressions. And he, Berel, +cannot even weep, he is a fallen one, lost forever--he is condemned to +wander, to roam everlastingly among the graves. + +By degrees, however, he called to mind where he was, and collected his +wits. + +Only then he remembered his fearful dream. + +"No," he decided within himself, "I have lived till now without the +hundred rubles, and I will continue to live without them. If the Lord of +the Universe wishes to help me, he will do so without them too. My soul +and my portion of the world-to-come are dearer to me. Only let Moisheh +Chalfon come in to pray, I will tell him the whole truth and avert +misfortune." + +This decision gave him courage, he washed his hands, and sat down again +to the Psalms. Every few minutes he glanced at the window, to see if it +were not beginning to dawn, and if Reb Moisheh Chalfon were not coming +along to Shool. + +The day broke. + +With the first sunbeams Berel's fears and terrors began little by little +to dissipate and diminish. His resolve to restore the hundred rubles +weakened considerably. + +"If I don't confess," thought Berel, wrestling in spirit with +temptation, "I risk my world-to-come.... If I do confess, what will my +Chantzeh-Leah say to it? He writes, either the wedding takes place, or +the contract is dissolved! And what shall I do, when his father gets to +hear about it? There will be a stain on my character, the marriage +contract will be annulled, and I shall be left ... without my good name +and ... with my ugly old maid.... + +"What is to be done? Help! What is to be done?" + +The people began to gather in the Shool. The reader of the Morning +Service intoned "He is Lord of the Universe" to the special Yom Kippur +tune, a few householders and young men supported him, and Berel heard +through it all only, Help! What is to be done? + +And suddenly he beheld Moisheh Chalfon. + +Berel quickly rose from his place, he wanted to make a rush at Moisheh +Chalfon. But after all he remained where he was, and sat down again. + +"I must first think it over, and discuss it with my Chantzeh-Leah," was +Berel's decision. + + * * * * * + +Berel stood up to pray with the congregation. He was again wishful to +pray with fervor, to collect his thoughts, and attend to the meaning of +the words, but try as he would, he couldn't! Quite other things came +into his head: a dream, a fair, a horse, Moisheh Chalfon, Chantzeh-Leah, +oats, barley, _this_ world and the next were all mixed up together in +his mind, and the words of the prayers skipped about like black patches +before his eyes. He wanted to say he was sorry, to cry, but he only made +curious grimaces, and could not squeeze out so much as a single tear. + +Berel was very dissatisfied with himself. He finished the Morning +Prayer, stood through the Additional Service, and proceeded to devour +the long Piyyutim. + +The question, What is to be done? left him no peace, and he was really +reciting the Piyyutim to try and stupefy himself, to dull his brain. + +So it went on till U-Nesanneh Toikef. + +The congregation began to prepare for U-Nesanneh Toikef, coughed, to +clear their throats, and pulled the Tallesim over their heads. The +cantor sat down for a minute to rest, and unbuttoned his shroud. His +face was pale and perspiring, and his eyes betrayed a great weariness. +From the women's gallery came a sound of weeping and wailing. + +Berel had drawn his Tallis over his head, and started reciting with +earnestness and enthusiasm: + + "We will express the mighty holiness of this Day, + For it is tremendous and awful! + On which Thy kingdom is exalted, + And Thy throne established in grace; + Whereupon Thou art seated in truth. + Verily, it is Thou who art judge and arbitrator, + Who knowest all, and art witness, writer, sigillator, + recorder and teller; + And Thou recallest all forgotten things, + And openest the Book of Remembrance, and the book reads itself, + And every man's handwriting is there...." + +These words opened the source of Berel's tears, and he sobbed +unaffectedly. Every sentence cut him to the heart, like a sharp knife, +and especially the passage: + +"And Thou recallest all forgotten things, and openest the Book of +Remembrance, and the book reads itself, and every man's handwriting is +there...." At that very moment the Book of Remembrance was lying open +before the Lord of the Universe, with the handwritings of all men. It +contains his own as well, the one which he wrote with his own hand that +day when he took away the hundred-ruble-note. He pictures how his soul +flew up to Heaven while he slept, and entered everything in the eternal +book, and now the letters stood before the Throne of Glory, and cried, +"Berel is a thief, Berel is a robber!" And he has the impudence to stand +and pray before God? He, the offender, the transgressor--and the Shool +does not fall upon his head? + +The congregation concluded U-Nesanneh Toikef, and the cantor began: "And +the great trumpet of ram's horn shall be sounded..." and still Berel +stood with the Tallis over his head. + +Suddenly he heard the words: + + "And the Angels are dismayed, + Fear and trembling seize hold of them as they proclaim, + As swiftly as birds, and say: + This is the Day of Judgment!" + +The words penetrated into the marrow of Berel's bones, and he shuddered +from head to foot. The words, "This is the Day of Judgment," +reverberated in his ears like a peal of thunder. He imagined the angels +were hastening to him with one speed, with one swoop, to seize and drag +him before the Throne of Glory, and the piteous wailing that came from +the women's court was for him, for his wretched soul, for his endless +misfortune. + +"No! no! no!" he resolved, "come what may, let him annul the contract, +let them point at me with their fingers as at a thief, if they choose, +let my Chantzeh-Leah lose her chance! I will take it all in good part, +if I may only save my unhappy soul! The minute the Kedushah is over I +shall go to Moisheh Chalfon, tell him the whole story, and beg him to +forgive me." + +The cantor came to the end of U-Nesanneh Toikef, the congregation +resumed their seats, Berel also returned to his place, and did not go up +to Moisheh Chalfon. + +"Help, what shall I do, what shall I do?" he thought, as he struggled +with his conscience. "Chantzeh-Leah will lay me on the fire ... she will +cry her life out ... the Mechutton ... the bridegroom...." + + * * * * * + +The Additional Service and the Afternoon Service were over, people were +making ready for the Conclusion Service, Neileh. The shadows were once +more lengthening, the sun was once more sinking in the west. The +Shool-Goi began to light candles and lamps, and placed them on the +tables and the window-ledges. Jews with faces white from exhaustion sat +in the anteroom resting and refreshing themselves with a pinch of snuff, +or a drop of hartshorn, and a few words of conversation. Everyone feels +more cheerful and in better humor. What had to be done, has been done +and well done. The Lord of the Universe has received His due. They have +mortified themselves a whole day, fasted continuously, recited prayers, +and begged forgiveness! + +Now surely the Almighty will do His part, accept the Jewish prayers and +have compassion on His people Israel. + +Only Berel sits in a corner by himself. He also is wearied and +exhausted. He also has fasted, prayed, wept, mortified himself, like the +rest. But he knows that the whole of his toil and trouble has been +thrown away. He sits troubled, gloomy, and depressed. He knows that they +have now reached Neileh, that he has still time to repent, that the door +of Heaven will stand open a little while longer, his repentance may yet +pass through ... otherwise, yet a little while, and the gates of mercy +will be shut and ... too late! + +"Oh, open the gate to us, even while it is closing," sounded in Berel's +ears and heart ... yet a little while, and it will be too late! + +"No, no!" shrieked Berel to himself, "I will not lose my soul, my +world-to-come! Let Chantzeh-Leah burn me and roast me, I will take it +all in good part, so that I don't lose my world-to-come!" + +Berel rose from his seat, and went up to Moisheh Chalfon. + +"Reb Moisheh, a word with you," he whispered into his ear. + +"Afterwards, when the prayers are done." + +"No, no, no!" shrieked Berel, below his breath, "now, at once!" + +Moisheh Chalfon stood up. + +Berel led him out of the house-of-study, and aside. + +"Reb Moisheh, kind soul, have pity on me and forgive me!" cried Berel, +and burst into sobs. + +"God be with you, Berel, what has come over you all at once?" asked Reb +Moisheh, in astonishment. + +"Listen to me, Reb Moisheh!" said Berel, still sobbing. "The hundred +rubles you lost a few weeks ago are in my house!... God knows the truth, +I didn't take them out of wickedness. I came into your house, the key +was in the drawer ... there was no one in the room.... That day I'd had +a letter from my Mechutton that he'd break off his son's engagement if +the wedding didn't take place to time.... My girl is ugly and old ... +the bridegroom is a fine young man ... a precious stone.... I opened the +drawer in spite of myself ... and saw the bank-notes.... You see how it +was?... My Mechutton is a Misnaggid ... a flint-hearted screw.... I took +out the note ... but it is shortening my years!... God knows what I bore +and suffered at the time.... To-night I will bring you the note back.... +Forgive me!... Let the Mechutton break off the match, if he chooses, let +the woman fret away her years, so long as I am rid of the serpent that +is gnawing at my heart, and gives me no peace! I never before touched a +ruble belonging to anyone else, and become a thief in my latter years I +won't!" + +Moisheh Chalfon did not answer him for a little while. He took out his +snuff, and had a pinch, then he took out of the bosom of his robe a +great red handkerchief, wiped his nose, and reflected a minute or two. +Then he said quietly: + +"If a match were broken off through me, I should be sorry. You certainly +behaved as you should not have, in taking the money without leave, but +it is written: Judge not thy neighbor till thou hast stood in his place. +You shall keep the hundred rubles. Come to-night and bring me an I. O. +U., and begin to repay me little by little." + +"What are you, an angel?" exclaimed Berel, weeping. + +"God forbid," replied Moisheh Chalfon, quietly, "I am what you are. You +are a Jew, and I also am a Jew." + + + + +ISAIAH LERNER + +Born, 1861, in Zwoniec, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; co-editor of +die Bibliothek Dos Leben, published at Odessa, 1904, and Kishineff, +1905. + + + + +BERTZI WASSERFUeHRER + + +I + +The first night of Passover. It is already about ten o'clock. Outside it +is dark, wet, cold as the grave. A fine, close, sleety rain is driving +down, a light, sharp, fitful wind blows, whistles, sighs, and whines, +and wanders round on every side, like a returned and sinful soul seeking +means to qualify for eternal bliss. The mud is very thick, and reaches +nearly to the waist. + +At one end of the town of Kamenivke, in the Poor People's Street, which +runs along by the bath-house, it is darkest of all, and muddiest. The +houses there are small, low, and overhanging, tumbled together in such a +way that there is no seeing where the mud begins and the dwelling ends. +No gleam of light, even in the windows. Either the inhabitants of the +street are all asleep, resting their tired bones and aching limbs, or +else they all lie suffocated in the sea of mud, simply because the mud +is higher than the windows. Whatever the reason, the street is quiet as +a God's-acre, and the darkness may be felt with the hands. + +Suddenly the dead stillness of the street is broken by the heavy tread +of some ponderous creature, walking and plunging through the Kamenivke +mud, and there appears the tall, broad figure of a man. He staggers like +one tipsy or sick, but he keeps on in a straight line, at an even pace, +like one born and bred and doomed to die in the familiar mud, till he +drags his way to a low, crouching house at the very end of the street, +almost under the hillside. It grows lighter--a bright flame shines +through the little window-panes. He has not reached the door before it +opens, and a shaky, tearful voice, full of melancholy, pain, and woe, +breaks the hush a second time this night: + +"Bertzi, is it you? Are you all right? So late? Has there been another +accident? And the cart and the horse, wu senen?" + +"All right, all right! A happy holiday!" + +His voice is rough, hoarse, and muffled. + +She lets him into the passage, and opens the inner door. + +But scarcely is he conscious of the light, warmth, and cleanliness of +the room, when he gives a strange, wild cry, takes one leap, like a +hare, onto the "eating-couch" spread for him on the red-painted, wooden +sofa, and--he lies already in a deep sleep. + + +II + +The whole dwelling, consisting of one nice, large, low room, is clean, +tidy, and bright. The bits of furniture and all the household essentials +are poor, but so clean and polished that one can mirror oneself in them, +if one cares to stoop down. The table is laid ready for Passover. The +bottles of red wine, the bottle of yellow Passover brandy, and the glass +goblets of different colors reflect the light of the thick tallow +candles, and shine and twinkle and sparkle. The oven, which stands in +the same room, is nearly out, there is one sleepy little bit of fire +still flickering. But the pots, ranged round the fire as though to watch +over it and encourage it, exhale such delicious, appetizing smells that +they would tempt even a person who had just eaten his fill. But no one +makes a move towards them. All five children lie stretched in a row on +the red-painted, wooden bed. Even they have not tasted of the precious +dishes, of which they have thought and talked for weeks previous to the +festival. They cried loud and long, waiting for their father's return, +and at last they went sweetly to sleep. Only one fly is moving about the +room: Rochtzi, Bertzi Wasserfuehrer's wife, and rivers of tears, large, +clear tears, salt with trouble and distress, flow from her eyes. + + +III + +Although Rochtzi has not seen more than thirty summers, she looks like +an old woman. Once upon a time she was pretty, she was even known as one +of the prettiest of the Kamenivke girls, and traces of her beauty are +still to be found in her uncommonly large, dark eyes, and even in her +lined face, although the eyes have long lost their fire, and her cheeks, +their color and freshness. She is dressed in clean holiday attire, but +her eyes are red from the hot, salt tears, and her expression is +darkened and sad. + +"Such a festival, such a great, holy festival, and then when it +comes...." The pale lips tremble and quiver. + +How many days and nights, beginning before Purim, has she sat with her +needle between her fingers, so that the children should have their +holiday frocks--and all depending on her hands and head! How much +thought and care and strength has she spent on preparing the room, their +poor little possessions, and the food? How many were the days, Sabbaths +excepted, on which they went without a spoonful of anything hot, so that +they might be able to give a becoming reception to that dear, great, and +holy visitor, the Passover? Everything (the Almighty forbid that she +should sin with her tongue!) of the best, ready and waiting, and then, +after all.... + +He, his sheepskin, his fur cap, and his great boots are soaked with rain +and steeped in thick mud, and there, in this condition, lies he, Bertzi +Wasserfuehrer, her husband, her Passover "king," like a great black lump, +on the nice, clean, white, draped "eating-couch," and snores. + + +IV + +The brief tale I am telling you happened in the days before Kamenivke +had joined itself on, by means of the long, tall, and beautiful bridge, +to the great high hill that has stood facing it from everlasting, +thickly wooded, and watered by quantities of clear, crystal streams, +which babble one to another day and night, and whisper with their +running tongues of most important things. So long as the bridge had not +been flung from one of the giant rocks to the other rock, the Kamenivke +people had not been able to procure the good, wholesome water of the +wild hill, and had to content themselves with the thick, impure water of +the river Smotritch, which has flowed forever round the eminence on +which Kamenivke is built. But man, and especially the Jew, gets used to +anything, and the Kamenivke people, who are nearly all Grandfather +Abraham's grandchildren, had drunk Smotritch water all their lives, and +were conscious of no grievance. + +But the lot of the Kamenivke water-carriers was hard and bitter. +Kamenivke stands high, almost in the air, and the river Smotritch runs +deep down in the valley. + +In summer, when the ground is dry, it was bearable, for then the +Kamenivke water-carrier was merely bathed in sweat as he toiled up the +hill, and the Jewish breadwinner has been used to that for ages. But in +winter, when the snow was deep and the frost tremendous, when the steep +Skossny hill with its clay soil was covered with ice like a hill of +glass! Or when the great rains were pouring down, and the town and +especially the clay hill are confounded with the deep, thick mud! + +Our Bertzi Wasserfuehrer was more alive to the fascinations of this +Parnosseh than any other water-carrier. He was, as though in his own +despite, a pious Jew and a great man of his word, and he had to carry +water for almost all the well-to-do householders. True, that in face of +all his good luck he was one of the poorest Jews in the Poor People's +Street, only---- + + +V + +Lord of the World, may there never again be such a winter as there was +then! + +Not the oldest man there could recall one like it. The snow came down in +drifts, and never stopped. One could and might have sworn on a scroll of +the Law, that the great Jewish God was angry with the Kamenivke Jews, +and had commanded His angels to shovel down on Kamenivke all the snow +that had lain by in all the seven heavens since the sixth day of +creation, so that the sinful town might be a ruin and a desolation. + +And the terrible, fiery frosts! + +Frozen people were brought into the town nearly every day. + +Oi, Jews, how Bertzi Wasserfuehrer struggled, what a time he had of it! +Enemies of Zion, it was nearly the death of him! + +And suddenly the snow began to stop falling, all at once, and then +things were worse than ever--there was a sea of water, an ocean of mud. + +And Passover coming on with great strides! + +For three days before Passover he had not come home to sleep. Who talks +of eating, drinking, and sleeping? He and his man toiled day and night, +like six horses, like ten oxen. + +The last day before Passover was the worst of all. His horse suddenly +came to the conclusion that sooner than live such a life, it would die. +So it died and vanished somewhere in the depths of the Kamenivke clay. + +And Bertzi the water-carrier and his man had to drag the cart with the +great water-barrel themselves, the whole day till long after dark. + + +VI + +It is already eleven, twelve, half past twelve at night, and Bertzi's +chest, throat, and nostrils continue to pipe and to whistle, to sob and +to sigh. + +The room is colder and darker, the small fire in the oven went out long +ago, and only little stumps of candles remain. + +Rochtzi walks and runs about the room, she weeps and wrings her hands. + +But now she runs up to the couch by the table, and begins to rouse her +husband with screams and cries fit to make one's blood run cold and the +hair stand up on one's head: + +"No, no, you're not going to sleep any longer, I tell you! Bertzi, do +you hear me? Get up, Bertzi, aren't you a Jew?--a man?--the father of +children?--Bertzi, have you God in your heart? Bertzi, have you said +your prayers? My husband, what about the Seder? I won't have it!--I feel +very ill--I am going to faint!--Help!--Water!" + +"Have I forgotten somebody's water?--Whose?--Where?..." + +But Rochtzi is no longer in need of water: she beholds her "king" on his +feet, and has revived without it. With her two hands, with all the +strength she has, she holds him from falling back onto the couch. + +"Don't you see, Bertzi? The candles are burning down, the supper is cold +and will spoil. I fancy it's already beginning to dawn. The children, +long life to them, went to sleep without any food. Come, please, begin +to prepare for the Seder, and I will wake the two elder ones." + +Bertzi stands bent double and treble. His breathing is labored and loud, +his face is smeared with mud and swollen from the cold, his beard and +earlocks are rough and bristly, his eyes sleepy and red. He looks +strangely wild and unkempt. Bertzi looks at Rochtzi, at the table, he +looks round the room, and sees nothing. But now he looks at the bed: his +little children, washed, and in their holiday dresses, are all lying in +a row across the bed, and--he remembers everything, and understands +what Rochtzi is saying, and what it is she wants him to do. + +"Give me some water--I said Minchah and Maariv by the way, while I was +at work." + +"I'm bringing it already! May God grant you a like happiness! Good +health to you! Hershele, get up, my Kaddish, father has come home +already! Shmuelkil, my little son, go and ask father the Four +Questions." + +Bertzi fills a goblet with wine, takes it up in his left hand, places it +upon his right hand, and begins: + +"Savri Moronon, ve-Rabbonon, ve-Rabbosai--with the permission of the +company."--His head goes round.--"Lord of the World!--I am a +Jew.--Blessed art Thou. Lord our God, King of the Universe--" It grows +dark before his eyes: "The first night of Passover--I ought to make +Kiddush--Thou who dost create the fruit of the vine"--his feet fail him, +as though they had been cut off--"and I ought to give the Seder--This is +the bread of the poor.... Lord of the World, you know how it is: I can't +do it!--Have mercy!--Forgive me!" + + +VII + +A nasty smell of sputtered-out candles fills the room. Rochtzi weeps. +Bertzi is back on the couch and snores. + +Different sounds, like the voices of winds, cattle, and wild beasts, and +the whirr of a mill, are heard in his snoring. And her weeping--it seems +as if the whole room were sighing and quivering and shaking.... + + + + +EZRIELK THE SCRIBE + + +Forty days before Ezrielk descended upon this sinful world, his +life-partner was proclaimed in Heaven, and the Heavenly Council decided +that he was to transcribe the books of the Law, prayers, and Mezuzehs +for the Kabtzonivke Jews, and thereby make a living for his wife and +children. But the hard word went forth to him that he should not +disclose this secret decree to anyone, and should even forget it himself +for a goodly number of years. A glance at Ezrielk told one that he had +been well lectured with regard to some important matter, and was to tell +no tales out of school. Even Minde, the Kabtzonivke Bobbe, testified to +this: + +"Never in all my life, all the time I've been bringing Jewish children +into God's world, have I known a child scream so loud at birth as +Ezrielk--a sign that he'd had it well rubbed into him!" + +Either the angel who has been sent to fillip little children above the +lips when they are being born, was just then very sleepy (Ezrielk was +born late at night), or some one had put him out of temper, but one way +or another little Ezrielk, the very first minute of his Jewish +existence, caught such a blow that his top lip was all but split in two. + +After this kindly welcome, when God's angel himself had thus received +Ezrielk, slaps, blows, and stripes rained down upon his head, body, and +life, all through his days, without pause or ending. + +Ezrielk began to attend Cheder when he was exactly three years old. His +first teacher treated him very badly, beat him continually, and took all +the joy of his childhood from him. By the time this childhood of his had +passed, and he came to be married (he began to wear the phylacteries and +the prayer-scarf on the day of his marriage), he was a very poor +specimen, small, thin, stooping, and yellow as an egg-pudding, his +little face dark, dreary, and weazened, like a dried Lender herring. The +only large, full things about him were his earlocks, which covered his +whole face, and his two blue eyes. He had about as much strength as a +fly, he could not even break the wine-glass under the marriage canopy by +himself, and had to ask for help of Reb Yainkef Butz, the beadle of the +Old Shool. + +Among the German Jews a boy like that would have been left unwed till he +was sixteen or even seventeen, but our Ezrielk was married at thirteen, +for his bride had been waiting for him seventeen years. + +It was this way: Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk's father, and Reb Selig +Tachshit, his father-in-law, were Hostre Chassidim, and used to drive +every year to spend the Solemn Days at the Hostre Rebbe's. They both +(not of you be it spoken!) lost all their children in infancy, and, as +you can imagine, they pressed the Rebbe very closely on this important +point, left him no peace, till he should bestir himself on their behalf, +and exercise all his influence in the Higher Spheres. Once, on the Eve +of Yom Kippur, before daylight, after the waving of the scape-fowls, +when the Rebbe, long life to him, was in somewhat high spirits, our two +Chassidim made another set upon him, but this time they had quite a new +plan, and it simply _had_ to work out! + +"Do you know what? Arrange a marriage between your children! Good luck +to you!" The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates, and actually +drew up the marriage contract. It was a little difficult to draw up the +contract, because they did not know which of our two friends would have +the boy (the Rebbe, long life to him, was silent on this head), and +which, the girl, but--a learned Jew is never at a loss, and they wrote +out the contract with conditions. + +For three years running after this their wives bore them each a child, +but the children were either both boys or both girls, so that their vow +to unite the son of one to a daughter of the other born in the same year +could not be fulfilled, and the documents lay on the shelf. + +True, the little couples departed for the "real world" within the first +month, but the Rebbe consoled the father by saying: + +"We may be sure they were not true Jewish children, that is, not true +Jewish souls. The true Jewish soul once born into the world holds on, +until, by means of various troubles and trials, it is cleansed from +every stain. Don't worry, but wait." + +The fourth year the Rebbe's words were established: Reb Selig Tachshit +had a daughter born to him, and Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk. + +Channehle, Ezrielk's bride, was tall, when they married, as a young +fir-tree, beautiful as the sun, clever as the day is bright, and white +as snow, with sky-blue, star-like eyes. Her hair was the color of ripe +corn--in a word, she was fair as Abigail and our Mother Rachel in one, +winning as Queen Esther, pious as Leah, and upright as our Grandmother +Sarah. + +But although the bride was beautiful, she found no fault with her +bridegroom; on the contrary, she esteemed it a great honor to have him +for a husband. All the Kabtzonivke girls envied her, and every +Kabtzonivke woman who was "expecting" desired with all her heart that +she might have such a son as Ezrielk. The reason is quite plain: First, +what true Jewish maiden looks for beauty in her bridegroom? Secondly, +our Ezrielk was as full of excellencies as a pomegranate is of seeds. + +His teachers had not broken his bones for nothing. The blows had been of +great and lasting good to him. Even before his wedding, Seinwill +Bassis's Ezrielk was deeply versed in the Law, and could solve the +hardest "questions," so that you might have made a Rabbi of him. He was, +moreover, a great scribe. His "in-honor-ofs," and his "blessed bes" were +known, not only in Kabtzonivke, but all over Kamenivke, and as for his +singing--! + +When Ezrielk began to sing, poor people forgot their hunger, thirst, and +need, the sick, their aches and pains, the Kabtzonivke Jews in general, +their bitter exile. + +He mostly sang unfamiliar tunes and whole "things." + +"Where do you get them, Ezrielk?" + +The little Ezrielk would open his eyes (he kept them shut while he +sang), his two big blue eyes, and answer wonderingly: + +"Don't you hear how everything sings?" + +After a little while, when Ezrielk had been singing so well and so +sweetly and so wonderfully that the Kabtzonivke Jews began to feel too +happy, people fell athinking, and they grew extremely uneasy and +disturbed in their minds: + +"It's not all so simple as it looks, there is something behind it. +Suppose a not-good one had introduced himself into the child (which God +forbid!)? It would do no harm to take him to the Aleskev Rebbe, long +life to him." + +As good luck would have it, the Hostre Rebbe came along just then to +Kabtzonivke, and, after all, Ezrielk belonged to _him_, he was born +through the merit of the Rebbe's miracle-working! So the Chassidim told +him the story. The Rebbe, long life to him, sent for him. Ezrielk came +and began to sing. The Rebbe listened a long, long time to his sweet +voice, which rang out like a hundred thousand crystal and gold bells +into every corner of the room. + +"Do not be alarmed, he may and he must sing. He gets his tunes there +where he got his soul." + +And Ezrielk sang cheerful tunes till he was ten years old, that is, till +he fell into the hands of the teacher Reb Yainkel Vittiss. + +Now, the end and object of Reb Yainkel's teaching was not merely that +his pupils should know a lot and know it well. Of course, we know that +the Jew only enters this sinful world in order that he may more or less +perfect himself, and that it is therefore needful he should, and, +indeed, he _must_, sit day and night over the Torah and the +Commentaries. Yainkel Vittiss's course of instruction began and ended +with trying to imbue his pupils with a downright, genuine, +Jewish-Chassidic enthusiasm. + +The first day Ezrielk entered his Cheder, Reb Yainkel lifted his long, +thick lashes, and began, while he gazed fixedly at him, to shake his +head, saying to himself: "No, no, he won't do like that. There is +nothing wrong with the vessel, a goodly vessel, only the wine is still +very sharp, and the ferment is too strong. He is too cocky, too lively +for me. A wonder, too, for he's been in good hands (tell me, weren't you +under both Moisheh-Yusis?), and it's a pity, when you come to think, +that such a goodly vessel should be wasted. Yes, he wants treating in +quite another way." + +And Yainkel Vittiss set himself seriously to the task of shaping and +working up Ezrielk. + +Reb Yainkel was not in the least concerned when he beat a pupil and the +latter cried and screamed at the top of his voice. He knew what he was +about, and was convinced that, when one beats and it hurts, even a +Jewish child (which must needs get used to blows) may cry and scream, +and the more the better; it showed that his method of instruction was +taking effect. And when he was thrashing Ezrielk, and the boy cried and +yelled, Reb Yainkel would tell him: "That's right, that's the way! Cry, +scream--louder still! That's the way to get a truly contrite Jewish +heart! You sing too merrily for me--a true Jew should weep even while he +sings." + +When Ezrielk came to be twelve years old, his teacher declared that he +might begin to recite the prayers in Shool before the congregation, as +he now had within him that which beseems a good Chassidic Jew. + +So Ezrielk began to davven in the Kabtzonivke Old Shool, and a crowd of +people, not only from Kabtzonivke, but even from Kamenivke and +Ebionivke, used to fill and encircle the Shool to hear him. + +Reb Yainkel was not mistaken, he knew what he was saying. Ezrielk was +indeed fit to davven: life and the joy of life had vanished from his +singing, and the terrorful weeping, the fearful wailing of a nation's +two thousand years of misfortune, might be heard and felt in his voice. + +Ezrielk was very weakly, and too young to lead the service often, but +what a stir he caused when he lifted up his voice in the Shool! + +Kabtzonivke, Kamenivke, and Ebionivke will never forget the first +U-mipne Chatoenu led by the twelve-year-old Ezrielk, standing before the +precentor's desk in a long, wide prayer-scarf. + +The men, women, and children who were listening inside and outside the +Old Shool felt a shudder go through them, their hair stood on end, and +their hearts wept and fluttered in their breasts. + +Ezrielk's voice wept and implored, "on account of our sins." + + * * * * * + +At the time when Ezrielk was distinguishing himself on this fashion with +his chanting, the Jewish doctor from Kamenivke happened to be in the +place. He saw the crowd round the Old Shool, and he went in. As you may +suppose, he was much longer in coming out. He was simply riveted to the +spot, and it is said that he rubbed his eyes more than once while he +listened and looked. On coming away, he told them to bring Ezrielk to +see him on the following day, saying that he wished to see him, and +would take no fee. + +Next day Ezrielk came with his mother to the doctor's house. + +"A blow has struck me! A thunder has killed me! Reb Yainkel, do you know +what the doctor said?" + +"You silly woman, don't scream so! He cannot have said anything bad +about Ezrielk. What is the matter? Did he hear him intone the Gemoreh, +or perhaps sing? Don't cry and lament like that!" + +"Reb Yainkel, what are you talking about? The doctor said that my +Ezrielk is in danger, that he's ill, that he hasn't a sound organ--his +heart, his lungs, are all sick. Every little bone in him is broken. He +mustn't sing or study--the bath will be his death--he must have a long +cure--he must be sent away for air. God (he said to me) has given you a +precious gift, such as Heaven and earth might envy. Will you go and bury +it with your own hands?" + +"And you were frightened and believed him? Nonsense! I've had Ezrielk in +my Cheder two years. Do I want _him_ to come and tell me what goes on +there? If _he_ were a really good doctor, and had one drop of Jewish +blood left in his veins, wouldn't he know that every true Jew has a sick +heart, a bad lung, broken bones, and deformed limbs, and is well and +strong in spite of it, because the holy Torah is the best medicine for +all sicknesses? Ha, ha, ha! And _he_ wants Ezrielk to give up learning +and the bath? Do you know what? Go home and send Ezrielk to Cheder at +once!" + +The Kamenivke doctor made one or two more attempts at alarming Ezrielk's +parents; he sent his assistant to them more than once, but it was no +use, for after what Reb Yainkel had said, nobody would hear of any +doctoring. + +So Ezrielk continued to study the Talmud and occasionally to lead the +service in Shool, like the Chassidic child he was, had a dip nearly +every morning in the bath-house, and at thirteen, good luck to him, he +was married. + +The Hostre Rebbe himself honored the wedding with his presence. The +Rebbe, long life to him, was fond of Ezrielk, almost as though he had +been his own child. The whole time the saint stayed in Kabtzonivke, +Kamenivke, and Ebionivke, Ezrielk had to be near him. + +When they told the Rebbe the story of the doctor, he remarked, "Ett! +what do _they_ know?" + +And Ezrielk continued to recite the prayers after his marriage, and to +sing as before, and was the delight of all who heard him. + +Agreeably to the marriage contract, Ezrielk and his Channehle had a +double right to board with their parents "forever"; when they were born +and the written engagements were filled in, each was an only child, and +both Reb Seinwill and Reb Selig undertook to board them "forever." True, +when the parents wedded their "one and only children," they had both of +them a houseful of little ones and no Parnosseh (they really hadn't!), +but they did not go back upon their word with regard to the "board +forever." + +Of course, it is understood that the two "everlasting boards" lasted +nearly one whole year, and Ezrielk and his wife might well give thanks +for not having died of hunger in the course of it, such a bad, bitter +year as it was for their poor parents. It was the year of the great +flood, when both Reb Seinwill Bassis and Reb Selig Tachshit had their +houses ruined. + +Ezrielk, Channehle, and their little son had to go and shift for +themselves. But the other inhabitants of Kabtzonivke, regardless of +this, now began to envy them in earnest: what other couple of their age, +with a child and without a farthing, could so easily make a livelihood +as they? + +Hardly had it come to the ears of the three towns that Ezrielk was +seeking a Parnosseh when they were all astir. All the Shools called +meetings, and sought for means and money whereby they might entice the +wonderful cantor and secure him for themselves. There was great +excitement in the Shools. Fancy finding in a little, thin Jewish lad all +the rare and precious qualities that go to make a great cantor! The +trustees of all the Shools ran about day and night, and a fierce war +broke out among them. + +The war raged five times twenty-four hours, till the Great Shool in +Kamenivke carried the day. Not one of the others could have dreamed of +offering him such a salary--three hundred rubles and everything found! + +"God is my witness"--thus Ezrielk opened his heart, as he sat afterwards +with the company of Hostre Chassidim over a little glass of +brandy--"that I find it very hard to leave our Old Shool, where my +grandfather and great-grandfather used to pray. Believe me, brothers, I +would not do it, only they give me one hundred and fifty rubles +earnest-money, and I want to pass it on to my father and father-in-law, +so that they may rebuild their houses. To your health, brothers! Drink +to my remaining an honest Jew, and wish that my head may not be turned +by the honor done to me!" + +And Ezrielk began to davven and to sing (again without a choir) in the +Great Shool, in the large town of Kamenivke. There he intoned the +prayers as he had never done before, and showed who Ezrielk was! The Old +Shool in Kabtzonivke had been like a little box for his voice. + +In those days Ezrielk and his household lived in happiness and plenty, +and he and Channehle enjoyed the respect and consideration of all men. +When Ezrielk led the service, the Shool was filled to overflowing, and +not only with Jews, even the richest Gentiles (I beg to distinguish!) +came to hear him, and wondered how such a small and weakly creature as +Ezrielk, with his thin chest and throat, could bring out such wonderful +tunes and whole compositions of his own! Money fell upon the lucky +couple, through circumcisions, weddings, and so on, like snow. Only one +thing began, little by little, to disturb their happiness: Ezrielk took +to coughing, and then to spitting blood. + +He used to complain that he often felt a kind of pain in his throat and +chest, but they did not consult a doctor. + +"What, a doctor?" fumed Reb Yainkel. "Nonsense! It hurts, does it? +Where's the wonder? A carpenter, a smith, a tailor, a shoemaker works +with his hands, and his hands hurt. Cantors and teachers and +match-makers work with their throat and chest, and _these_ hurt, they +are bound to do so. It is simply hemorrhoids." + +So Ezrielk went on intoning and chanting, and the Kamenivke Jews licked +their fingers, and nearly jumped out of their skin for joy when they +heard him. + +Two years passed in this way, and then came a change. + +It was early in the morning of the Fast of the Destruction of the +Temple, all the windows of the Great Shool were open, and all the +tables, benches, and desks had been carried out from the men's hall and +the women's hall the evening before. Men and women sat on the floor, so +closely packed a pin could not have fallen to the floor between them. +The whole street in which was the Great Shool was chuck full with a +terrible crowd of men, women, and children, although it just happened to +be cold, wet weather. The fact is, Ezrielk's Lamentations had long been +famous throughout the Jewish world in those parts, and whoever had ears, +a Jewish heart, and sound feet, came that day to hear him. The sad +epidemic disease that (not of our days be it spoken!) swallows men up, +was devastating Kamenivke and its surroundings that year, and everyone +sought a place and hour wherein to weep out his opprest and bitter +heart. + +Ezrielk also sat on the floor reciting Lamentations, but the man who sat +there was not the same Ezrielk, and the voice heard was not his. +Ezrielk, with his sugar-sweet, honeyed voice, had suddenly been +transformed into a strange being, with a voice that struck terror into +his hearers; the whole people saw, heard, and felt, how a strange +creature was flying about among them with a fiery sword in his hand. He +slashes, hews, and hacks at their hearts, and with a terrible voice he +cries out and asks: "Sinners! Where is your holy land that flowed with +milk and honey? Slaves! Where is your Temple? Accursed slaves! You sold +your freedom for money and calumny, for honors and worldly greatness!" + +The people trembled and shook and were all but entirely dissolved in +tears. "Upon Zion and her cities!" sang out once more Ezrielk's +melancholy voice, and suddenly something snapped in his throat, just as +when the strings of a good fiddle snap when the music is at its best. +Ezrielk coughed, and was silent. A stream of blood poured from his +throat, and he grew white as the wall. + +The doctor declared that Ezrielk had lost his voice forever, and would +remain hoarse for the rest of his life. + +"Nonsense!" persisted Reb Yainkel. "His voice is breaking--it's nothing +more!" + +"God will help!" was the comment of the Hostre saint. A whole year went +by, and Ezrielk's voice neither broke nor returned to him. The Hostre +Chassidim assembled in the house of Elkoneh the butcher to consider and +take counsel as to what Ezrielk should take to in order to earn a +livelihood for wife and children. They thought it over a long, long +time, talked and gave their several opinions, till they hit upon this: +Ezrielk had still one hundred and fifty rubles in store--let him spend +one hundred rubles on a house in Kabtzonivke, and begin to traffic with +the remainder. + +Thus Ezrielk became a trader. He began driving to fairs, and traded in +anything and everything capable of being bought or sold. + +Six months were not over before Ezrielk was out of pocket. He mortgaged +his property, and with the money thus obtained he opened a grocery shop +for Channehle. He himself (nothing satisfies a Jew!) started to drive +about in the neighborhood, to collect the contributions subscribed for +the maintenance of the Hostre Rebbe, long life to him! + +Ezrielk was five months on the road, and when, torn, worn, and +penniless, he returned home, he found Channehle brought to bed of her +fourth child, and the shop bare of ware and equally without a groschen. +But Ezrielk was now something of a trader, and is there any strait in +which a Jewish trader has not found himself? Ezrielk had soon disposed +of the whole of his property, paid his debts, rented a larger lodging, +and started trading in several new and more ambitious lines: he pickled +gherkins, cabbages, and pumpkins, made beet soup, both red and white, +and offered them for sale, and so on. It was Channehle again who had to +carry on most of the business, but, then, Ezrielk did not sit with his +hands in his pockets. Toward Passover he had Shmooreh Matzes; he baked +and sold them to the richest householders in Kamenivke, and before the +Solemn Days he, as an expert, tried and recommended cantors and +prayer-leaders for the Kamenivke Shools. When it came to Tabernacles, +he trafficked in citrons and "palms." + +For three years Ezrielk and his Channehle struggled at their trades, +working themselves nearly to death (of Zion's enemies be it spoken!), +till, with the help of Heaven, they came to be twenty years old. + +By this time Ezrielk and Channehle were the parents of four living and +two dead children. Channehle, the once so lovely Channehle, looked like +a beaten Hoshanah, and Ezrielk--you remember the picture drawn at the +time of his wedding?--well, then try to imagine what he was like now, +after those seven years we have described for you! It's true that he was +not spitting blood any more, either because Reb Yainkel had been right, +when he said that would pass away, or because there was not a drop of +blood in the whole of his body. + +So that was all right--only, how were they to live? Even Reb Yainkel and +all the Hostre Chassidim together could not tell him! + +The singing had raised him and lifted him off his feet, and let him +fall. And do you know why it was and how it was that everything Ezrielk +took to turned out badly? It was because the singing was always there, +in his head and his heart. He prayed and studied, singing. He bought and +sold, singing. He sang day and night. No one heard him, because he was +hoarse, but he sang without ceasing. Was it likely he would be a +successful trader, when he was always listening to what Heaven and earth +and everything around him were singing, too? He only wished he could +have been a slaughterer or a Rav (he was apt enough at study), only, +first, Rabbonim and slaughterers don't die every day, and, second, they +usually leave heirs to take their places; third, even supposing there +were no such heirs, one has to pay "privilege-money," and where is it to +come from? No, there was nothing to be done. Only God could and must +have pity on him and his wife and children, and help them somehow. + +Ezrielk struggled and fought his need hard enough those days. One good +thing for him was this--his being a Hostre Chossid; the Hostre +Chassidim, although they have been famed from everlasting as the direst +poor among the Jews, yet they divide their last mouthful with their +unfortunate brethren. But what can the gifts of mortal men, and of such +poor ones into the bargain, do in a case like Ezrielk's? And God alone +knows what bitter end would have been his, if Reb Shmuel Baer, the +Kabtzonivke scribe, had not just then (blessed be the righteous Judge!) +met with a sudden death. Our Ezrielk was not long in feeling that he, +and only he, should, and, indeed, must, step into Reb Shmuel's shoes. +Ezrielk had been an expert at the scribe's work for years and years. +Why, his father's house and the scribe's had been nearly under one roof, +and whenever Ezrielk, as a child, was let out of Cheder, he would go and +sit any length of time in Reb Shmuel's room (something in the occupation +attracted him) and watch him write. And the little Ezrielk had more than +once tried to make a piece of parchment out of a scrap of skin; and what +Jewish boy cannot prepare the veins that are used to sew the +phylacteries and the scrolls of the Law? Nor was the scribe's ink a +secret to Ezrielk. + +So Ezrielk became scribe in Kabtzonivke. + +Of course, he did not make a fortune. Reb Shmuel Baer, who had been a +scribe all his days, died a very poor man, and left a roomful of hungry, +half-naked children behind him, but then--what Jew, I ask you (or has +Messiah come?), ever expected to find a Parnosseh with enough, really +enough, to eat? + + + + +YITZCHOK-YOSSEL BROITGEBER + + +At the time I am speaking of, the above was about forty years old. He +was a little, thin Jew with a long face, a long nose, two large, black, +kindly eyes, and one who would sooner be silent and think than talk, no +matter what was being said to him. Even when he was scolded for +something (and by whom and when and for what was he _not_ scolded?), he +used to listen with a quiet, startled, but sweet smile, and his large, +kindly eyes would look at the other with such wonderment, mingled with a +sort of pity, that the other soon stopped short in his abuse, and stood +nonplussed before him. + +"There, you may talk! You might as well argue with a horse, or a donkey, +or the wall, or a log of wood!" and the other would spit and make off. + +But if anyone observed that smile attentively, and studied the look in +his eyes, he would, to a certainty, have read there as follows: + +"O man, man, why are you eating your heart out? Seeing that you don't +know, and that you don't understand, why do you undertake to tell me +what I ought to do?" + +And when he was obliged to answer, he used to do so in a few measured +and gentle words, as you would speak to a little, ignorant child, +smiling the while, and then he would disappear and start thinking again. + +They called him "breadwinner," because, no matter how hard the man +worked, he was never able to earn a living. He was a little tailor, but +not like the tailors nowadays, who specialize in one kind of garment, +for Yitzchok-Yossel made everything: trousers, cloaks, waistcoats, +top-coats, fur-coats, capes, collars, bags for prayer-books, "little +prayer-scarfs," and so on. Besides, he was a ladies' tailor as well. +Summer and winter, day and night, he worked like an ox, and yet, when +the Kabtzonivke community, at the time of the great cholera, in order to +put an end to the plague, led him, aged thirty, out to the cemetery, and +there married him to Malkeh the orphan, she cast him off two weeks +later! She was still too young (twenty-eight), she said, to stay with +him and die of hunger. She went out into the world, together with a +large band of poor, after the great fire that destroyed nearly the whole +town, and nothing more was heard of Malkeh the orphan from that day +forward. And Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber betook himself, with needle and +flat-iron, into the women's chamber in the New Shool, the community +having assigned it to him as a workroom. + +How came it about, you may ask, that so versatile a tailor as +Yitzchok-Yossel should be so poor? + +Well, if you do, it just shows you didn't know him! + +Wait and hear what I shall tell you. + +The story is on this wise: Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber was a tailor who +could make anything, and who made nothing at all, that is, since he +displayed his imagination in cutting out and sewing on the occasion I am +referring to, nobody would trust him. + +I can remember as if it were to-day what happened in Kabtzonivke, and +the commotion there was in the little town when Yitzchok-Yossel made Reb +Yecheskel the teacher a pair of trousers (begging your pardon!) of such +fantastic cut that the unfortunate teacher had to wear them as a vest, +though he was not then in need of one, having a brand new sheepskin not +more than three years old. + +And now listen! Binyomin Droibnik the trader's mother died (blessed be +the righteous Judge!), and her whole fortune went, according to the Law, +to her only son Binyomin. She had to be buried at the expense of the +community. If she was to be buried at all, it was the only way. But the +whole town was furious with the old woman for having cheated them out of +their expectations and taken her whole fortune away with her to the real +world. None knew exactly _why_, but it was confidently believed that old +"Aunt" Leah had heaps of treasure somewhere in hiding. + +It was a custom with us in Kabtzonivke to say, whenever anyone, man or +woman, lived long, ate sicknesses by the clock, and still did not die, +that it was a sign that he had in the course of his long life gathered +great store of riches, that somewhere in a cellar he kept potsful of +gold and silver. + +The Funeral Society, the younger members, had long been whetting their +teeth for "Aunt" Leah's fortune, and now she had died (may she merit +Paradise!) and had fooled them. + +"What about her money?" + +"A cow has flown over the roof and laid an egg!" + +In that same night Reb Binyomin's cow (a real cow) calved, and the +unfortunate consequence was that she died. The Funeral Society took the +calf, and buried "Aunt" Leah at its own expense. + +Well, money or no money, inheritance or no inheritance, Reb Binyomin's +old mother left him a quilt, a large, long, wide, wadded quilt. As an +article of house furniture, a quilt is a very useful thing, especially +in a house where there is a wife (no evil eye!) and a goodly number of +children, little and big. Who doesn't see that? It looks simple enough! +Either one keeps it for oneself and the two little boys (with whom Reb +Binyomin used to sleep), or else one gives it to the wife and the two +little girls (who also sleep all together), or, if not, then to the two +bigger boys or the two bigger girls, who repose on the two bench-beds in +the parlor and kitchen respectively. But this particular quilt brought +such perplexity into Reb Binyomin's rather small head that he (not of +you be it spoken!) nearly went mad. + +"Why I and not she? Why she and not I? Or they? Or the others? Why they +and not I? Why them and not us? Why the others and not them? Well, well, +what is all this fuss? What did we cover them with before?" + +Three days and three nights Reb Binyomin split his head and puzzled his +brains over these questions, till the Almighty had pity on his small +skull and feeble intelligence, and sent him a happy thought. + +"After all, it is an inheritance from one's one and only mother (peace +be upon her!), it is a thing from Thingland! I must adapt it to some +useful purpose, so that Heaven and earth may envy me its possession!" +And he sent to fetch Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, the tailor, who could +make every kind of garment, and said to him: + +"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, you see this article?" + +"I see it." + +"Yes, you see it, but do you understand it, really and truly understand +it?" + +"I think I do." + +"But do you know what this is, ha?" + +"A quilt." + +"Ha, ha, ha! A quilt? I could have told you that myself. But the stuff, +the material?" + +"It's good material, beautiful stuff." + +"Good material, beautiful stuff? No, I beg your pardon, you are not an +expert in this, you don't know the value of merchandise. The real +artisan, the true expert, would say: The material is light, soft, and +elastic, like a lung, a sound and healthy lung. The stuff--he would say +further--is firm, full, and smooth as the best calf's leather. And +durable? Why, it's a piece out of the heart of the strongest ox, or the +tongue of the Messianic ox itself! Do you know how many winters this +quilt has lasted already? But enough! That is not why I have sent for +you. We are neither of us, thanks to His blessed Name, do-nothings. The +long and short of it is this: I wish to make out of this--you understand +me?--out of this material, out of this piece of stuff, a thing, an +article, that shall draw everybody to it, a fruit that is worth saying +the blessing over, something superfine. An instance: what, for example, +tell me, what would you do, if I gave this piece of goods into your +hands, and said to you: Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, as you are (without sin be +it spoken!) an old workman, a good workman, and, besides that, a good +comrade, and a Jew as well, take this material, this stuff, and deal +with it as you think best. Only let it be turned into a sort of costume, +a sort of garment, so that not only Kabtzonivke, but all Kamenivke, +shall be bitten and torn with envy. Eh? What would you turn it into?" + +Yitzchok-Yossel was silent, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel went nearly out of his +mind, nearly fainted for joy at these last words. He grew pale as death, +white as chalk, then burning red like a flame of fire, and sparkled and +shone. And no wonder: Was it a trifle? All his life he had dreamed of +the day when he should be given a free hand in his work, so that +everyone should see who Yitzchok-Yossel is, and at the end came--the +trousers, Reb Yecheskel Melammed's trousers! How well, how cleverly he +had made them! Just think: trousers and upper garment in one! He had +been so overjoyed, he had felt so happy. So sure that now everyone would +know who Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber is! He had even begun to think and +wonder about Malkeh the orphan--poor, unfortunate orphan! Had she ever +had one single happy day in her life? Work forever and next to no food, +toil till she was exhausted and next to no drink, sleep where she could +get it: one time in Elkoneh the butcher's kitchen, another time in +Yisroel Dintzis' attic ... and when at last she got married (good luck +to her!), she became the wife of Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber! And the +wedding took place in the burial-ground. On one side they were digging +graves, on the other they were bringing fresh corpses. There was weeping +and wailing, and in the middle of it all, the musicians playing and +fiddling and singing, and the relations dancing!... Good luck! Good +luck! The orphan and her breadwinner are being led to the marriage +canopy in the graveyard! + +He will never forget with what gusto, she, his bride, the first night +after their wedding, ate, drank, and slept--the whole of the +wedding-supper that had been given them, bridegroom and bride: a nice +roll, a glass of brandy, a tea-glass full of wine, and a heaped-up plate +of roast meat was cut up and scraped together and eaten (no evil eye!) +by _her_, by the bride herself. He had taken great pleasure in watching +her face. He had known her well from childhood, and had no need to look +at her to know what she was like, but he wanted to see what kind of +feelings her face would express during this occupation. When they led +him into the bridal chamber--she was already there--the companions of +the bridegroom burst into a shout of laughter, for the bride was already +snoring. He knew quite well why she had gone to sleep so quickly and +comfortably. Was there not sufficient reason? For the first time in her +life she had made a good meal and lain down in a bed with bedclothes! + +The six groschen candle burnt, the flies woke and began to buzz, the +mills clapt, and swung, and groaned, and he, Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber, +the bridegroom, sat beside the bridal bed on a little barrel of pickled +gherkins, and looked at Malkeh the orphan, his bride, his wife, listened +to her loud thick snores, and thought. + +The town dogs howled strangely. Evidently the wedding in the cemetery +had not yet driven away the Angel of Death. From some of the +neighboring houses came a dreadful crying and screaming of women and +children. + +Malkeh the orphan heard nothing. She slept sweetly, and snored as loud +(I beg to distinguish!) as Caspar, the tall, stout miller, the owner of +both mills. + +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber sits on the little barrel, looks at her face, +and thinks. Her face is dark, roughened, and nearly like that of an old +woman. A great, fat fly knocked against the wick, the candle suddenly +began to burn brighter, and Yitzchok-Yossel saw her face become +prettier, younger, and fresher, and overspread by a smile. That was all +the effect of the supper and the soft bed. Then it was that he had +promised himself, that he had sworn, once and for all, to show the +Kabtzonivke Jews who he is, and then Malkeh the orphan will have food +and a bed every day. He would have done this long ago, had it not been +for those trousers. The people are so silly, they don't understand! That +is the whole misfortune! And it's quite the other way about: let someone +else try and turn out such an ingenious contrivance! But because it was +he, and not someone else, they laughed and made fun of him. How Reb +Yecheskel, his wife and children, did abuse him! That was his reward for +all his trouble. And just because they themselves are cattle, horses, +boors, who don't understand the tailor's art! Ha, if only they +understood that tailoring is a noble, refined calling, limitless and +bottomless as (with due distinction!) the holy Torah! + +But all is not lost. Who knows? For here comes Binyomin Droibnik, an +intelligent man, a man of brains and feeling. And think how many years +he has been a trader! A retail trader, certainly, a jobber, but still-- + +"Come, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, make an end! What will you turn it into?" + +"Everything." + +"That is to say?" + +"A dressing-gown for your Dvoshke,--" + +"And then?" + +"A morning-gown with tassels,--" + +"After that?" + +"A coat." + +"Well?" + +"A dress--" + +"And besides that?" + +"A pair of trousers and a jacket--" + +"Nothing more?" + +"Why not? A--" + +"For instance?" + +"Pelisse, a wadded winter pelisse for you." + +"There, there! Just that, and only that!" said Reb Binyomin, delighted. + +Yitzchok-Yossel Broitgeber tucked away the quilt under his arm, and was +preparing to be off. + +"Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! And what about taking my measure? And how about +your charge?" + +Yitzchok-Yossel dearly loved to take anyone's measure, and was an expert +at so doing. He had soon pulled a fair-sized sheet of paper out of one +of his deep pockets, folded it into a long paper stick, and begun to +measure Reb Binyomin Droibnik's limbs. He did not even omit to note the +length and breadth of his feet. + +"What do you want with that? Are you measuring me for trousers?" + +"Ett, don't you ask! No need to teach a skilled workman his trade!" + +"And what about the charge?" + +"We shall settle that later." + +"No, that won't do with me; I am a trader, you understand, and must have +it all pat." + +"Five gulden." + +"And how much less?" + +"How should I know? Well, four." + +"Well, and half a ruble?" + +"Well, well--" + +"Remember, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel, it must be a masterpiece!" + +"Trust me!" + + * * * * * + +For five days and five nights Yitzchok-Yossel set his imagination to +work on Binyomin Droibnik's inheritance. There was no eating for him, no +drinking, and no sleeping. The scissors squeaked, the needle ran hither +and thither, up and down, the inheritance sighed and almost sobbed under +the hot iron. But how happy was Yitzchok-Yossel those lightsome days and +merry nights? Who could compare with him? Greater than the Kabtzonivke +village elder, richer than Yisroel Dintzis, the tax-gatherer, and more +exalted than the bailiff himself was Yitzchok-Yossel, that is, in his +own estimation. All that he wished, thought, and felt was forthwith +created by means of his scissors and iron, his thimble, needle, and +cotton. No more putting on of patches, sewing on of pockets, cutting +out of "Tefillin-Saecklech" and "little prayer-scarfs," no more doing up +of old dresses. Freedom, freedom--he wanted one bit of work of the right +sort, and that was all! Ha, now he would show them, the Kabtzonivke +cripples and householders, now he would show them who Yitzchok-Yossel +Broitgeber is! They would not laugh at him or tease him any more! His +fame would travel from one end of the world to the other, and Malkeh the +orphan, his bride, his wife, she also would hear of it, and-- + +She will come back to him! He feels it in every limb. It was not him she +cast off, only his bad luck. He will rent a lodging (money will pour in +from all sides)--buy a little furniture: a bed, a sofa, a table--in time +he will buy a little house of his own--she will come, she has been +homeless long enough--it is time she should rest her weary, aching +bones--it is high time she should have her own corner! + +She will come back, he feels it, she will certainly come home! + +The last night! The work is complete. Yitzchok-Yossel spread it out on +the table of the women's Shool, lighted a second groschen candle, sat +down in front of it with wide open, sparkling eyes, gazed with delight +at the product of his imagination and--was wildly happy! + +So he sat the whole night. + +It was very hard for him to part with his achievement, but hardly was it +day when he appeared with it at Reb Binyomin Droibnik's. + +"A good morning, a good year, Reb Yitzchok-Yossel! I see by your eyes +that you have been successful. Is it true?" + +"You can see for yourself, there--" + +"No, no, there is no need for me to see it first. Dvoshke, Cheike, +Shprintze, Dovid-Hershel, Yitzchok-Yoelik! You understand, I want them +all to be present and see." + +In a few minutes the whole family had appeared on the scene. Even the +four little ones popped up from behind the heaps of ragged covering. + +Yitzchok-Yossel untied his parcel and-- + +"_Wuus is duuuusss???!!!_" + +"A pair of trousers with sleeves!" + + + + +JUDAH STEINBERG + + +Born, 1863, in Lipkany, Bessarabia; died, 1907, in Odessa; education +Hasidic; entered business in a small Roumanian village for a short time; +teacher, from 1889 in Jedency and from 1896 in Leowo, Bessarabia; +removed to Odessa, in 1905, to become correspondent of New York Warheit; +writer of fables, stories, and children's tales in Hebrew, and poems in +Yiddish; historical drama, Ha-Sotah; collected works in Hebrew, 3 vols., +Cracow, 1910-1911 (in course of publication). + + + + +A LIVELIHOOD + + +The two young fellows Maxim Klopatzel and Israel Friedman were natives +of the same town in New Bessarabia, and there was an old link existing +between them: a mutual detestation inherited from their respective +parents. Maxim's father was the chief Gentile of the town, for he rented +the corn-fields of its richest inhabitant; and as the lawyer of the rich +citizen was a Jew, little Maxim imagined, when his father came to lose +his tenantry, that it was owing to the Jews. Little Struli was the only +Jewish boy he knew (the children were next door neighbors), and so a +large share of their responsibility was laid on Struli's shoulders. +Later on, when Klopatzel, the father, had abandoned the plough and taken +to trade, he and old Friedman frequently came in contact with each other +as rivals. + +They traded and traded, and competed one against the other, till they +both become bankrupt, when each argued to himself that the other was at +the bottom of his misfortune--and their children grew on in mutual +hatred. + +A little later still, Maxim put down to Struli's account part of the +nails which were hammered into his Savior, over at the other end of the +town, by the well, where the Government and the Church had laid out +money and set up a crucifix with a ladder, a hammer, and all other +necessary implements. + +And Struli, on his part, had an account to settle with Maxim respecting +certain other nails driven in with hammers, and torn scrolls of the +Law, and the history of the ten martyrs of the days of Titus, not to +mention a few later ones. + +Their hatred grew with them, its strength increased with theirs. + +When Krushevan began to deal in anti-Semitism, Maxim learned that +Christian children were carried off into the Shool, Struli's Shool, for +the sake of their blood. + +Thenceforth Maxim's hatred of Struli was mingled with fear. He was +terrified when he passed the Shool at night, and he used to dream that +Struli stood over him in a prayer robe, prepared to slaughter him with a +ram's horn trumpet. + +This because he had once passed the Shool early one Jewish New Year's +Day, had peeped through the window, and seen the ram's horn blower +standing in his white shroud, armed with the Shofar, and suddenly a +heartrending voice broke out with Min ha-Mezar, and Maxim, taking his +feet on his shoulders, had arrived home more dead than alive. There was +very nearly a commotion. The priest wanted to persuade him that the Jews +had tried to obtain his blood. + +So the two children grew into youth as enemies. Their fathers died, and +the increased difficulties of their position increased their enmity. + +The same year saw them called to military service, from which they had +both counted on exemption as the only sons of widowed mothers; only +Israel's mother had lately died, bequeathing to the Czar all she had--a +soldier; and Maxim's mother had united herself to a second +provider--and there was an end of the two "only sons!" + +Neither of them wished to serve; they were too intellectually capable, +too far developed mentally, too intelligent, to be turned all at once +into Russian soldiers, and too nicely brought up to march from Port +Arthur to Mukden with only one change of shirt. They both cleared out, +and stowed themselves away till they 'fell separately into the hands of +the military. + +They came together again under the fortress walls of Mukden. + +They ate and hungered sullenly round the same cooking pot, received +punches from the same officer, and had the same longing for the same +home. + +Israel had a habit of talking in his sleep, and, like a born +Bessarabian, in his Yiddish mixed with a large portion of Roumanian +words. + +One night, lying in the barracks among the other soldiers, and sunk in +sleep after a hard day, Struli began to talk sixteen to the dozen. He +called out names, he quarrelled, begged pardon, made a fool of +himself--all in his sleep. + +It woke Maxim, who overheard the homelike names and phrases, the name of +his native town. + +He got up, made his way between the rows of sleepers, and sat down by +Israel's pallet, and listened. + +Next day Maxim managed to have a large helping of porridge, more than he +could eat, and he found Israel, and set it before him. + +"Maltzimesk!" said the other, thanking him in Roumanian, and a thrill of +delight went through Maxim's frame. + +The day following, Maxim was hit by a Japanese bullet, and there +happened to be no one beside him at the moment. + +The shock drove all the soldier-speech out of his head. "Help, I am +killed!" he called out, and fell to the ground. + +Struli was at his side like one sprung from the earth, he tore off his +Four-Corners, and made his comrade a bandage. + +The wound turned out to be slight, for the bullet had passed through, +only grazing the flesh of the left arm. A few days later Maxim was back +in the company. + +"I wanted to see you again, Struli," he said, greeting his comrade in +Roumanian. + +A flash of brotherly affection and gratitude lighted Struli's Semitic +eyes, and he took the other into his arms, and pressed him to his heart. + +They felt themselves to be "countrymen," of one and the same native +town. + +Neither of them could have told exactly when their union of spirit had +been accomplished, but each one knew that he thanked God for having +brought him together with so near a compatriot in a strange land. + +And when the battle of Mukden had made Maxim all but totally blind, and +deprived Struli of one foot, they started for home together, according +to the passage in the Midrash, "Two men with one pair of eyes and one +pair of feet between them." Maxim carried on his shoulders a wooden box, +which had now became a burden in common for them, and Struli limped a +little in front of him, leaning lightly against his companion, so as to +keep him in the smooth part of the road and out of other people's way. + +Struli had become Maxim's eyes, and Maxim, Struli's feet; they were two +men grown into one, and they provided for themselves out of one pocket, +now empty of the last ruble. + +They dragged themselves home. "A kasa, a kasa!" whispered Struli into +Maxim's ear, and the other turned on him his two glazed eyes looking +through a red haze, and set in swollen red lids. + +A childlike smile played on his lips: + +"A kasa, a kasa!" he repeated, also in a whisper. + +Home appeared to their fancy as something holy, something consoling, +something that could atone and compensate for all they had suffered and +lost. They had seen such a home in their dreams. + +But the nearer they came to it in reality, the more the dream faded. +They remembered that they were returning as conquered soldiers and +crippled men, that they had no near relations and but few friends, while +the girls who had coquetted with Maxim before he left would never waste +so much as a look on him now he was half-blind; and Struli's plans for +marrying and emigrating to America were frustrated: a cripple would not +be allowed to enter the country. + +All their dreams and hopes finally dissipated, and there remained only +one black care, one all-obscuring anxiety: how were they to earn a +living? + +They had been hoping all the while for a pension, but in their service +book was written "on sick-leave." The Russo-Japanese war was +distinguished by the fact that the greater number of wounded soldiers +went home "on sick-leave," and the money assigned by the Government for +their pension would not have been sufficient for even a hundredth part +of the number of invalids. + +Maxim showed a face with two wide open eyes, to which all the passers-by +looked the same. He distinguished with difficulty between a man and a +telegraph post, and wore a smile of mingled apprehension and confidence. +The sound feet stepped hesitatingly, keeping behind Israel, and it was +hard to say which steadied himself most against the other. Struli limped +forward, and kept open eyes for two. Sometimes he would look round at +the box on Maxim's shoulders, as though he felt its weight as much as +Maxim. + +Meantime the railway carriages had emptied and refilled, and the +locomotive gave a great blast, received an answer from somewhere a long +way off, a whistle for a whistle, and the train set off, slowly at +first, and then gradually faster and faster, till all that remained of +it were puffs of smoke hanging in the air without rhyme or reason. + +The two felt more depressed than ever. "Something to eat? Where are we +to get a bite?" was in their minds. + +Suddenly Yisroel remembered with a start: this was the anniversary of +his mother's death--if he could only say one Kaddish for her in a Klaus! + +"Is it far from here to a Klaus?" he inquired of a passer-by. + +"There is one a little way down that side-street," was the reply. + +"Maxim!" he begged of the other, "come with me!" + +"Where to?" + +"To the synagogue." + +Maxim shuddered from head to foot. His fear of a Jewish Shool had not +left him, and a thousand foolish terrors darted through his head. + +But his comrade's voice was so gentle, so childishly imploring, that he +could not resist it, and he agreed to go with him into the Shool. + +It was the time for Afternoon Prayer, the daylight and the dark held +equal sway within the Klaus, the lamps before the platform increasing +the former to the east and the latter to the west. Maxim and Yisroel +stood in the western part, enveloped in shadow. The Cantor had just +finished "Incense," and was entering upon Ashre, and the melancholy +night chant of Minchah and Maariv gradually entranced Maxim's emotional +Roumanian heart. + +The low, sad murmur of the Cantor seemed to him like the distant surging +of a sea, in which men were drowned by the hundreds and suffocating with +the water. Then, the Ashre and the Kaddish ended, there was silence. The +congregation stood up for the Eighteen Benedictions. Here and there you +heard a half-stifled sigh. And now it seemed to Maxim that he was in the +hospital at night, at the hour when the groans grow less frequent, and +the sufferers fall one by one into a sweet sleep. + +Tears started into his eyes without his knowing why. He was no longer +afraid, but a sudden shyness had come over him, and he felt, as he +watched Yisroel repeating the Kaddish, that the words, which he, Maxim, +could not understand, were being addressed to someone unseen, and yet +mysteriously present in the darkening Shool. + +When the prayers were ended, one of the chief members of the +congregation approached the "Mandchurian," and gave Yisroel a coin into +his hand. + +Yisroel looked round--he did not understand at first what the donor +meant by it. + +Then it occurred to him--and the blood rushed to his face. He gave the +coin to his companion, and explained in a half-sentence or two how they +had come by it. + +Once outside the Klaus, they both cried, after which they felt better. + +"A livelihood!" the same thought struck them both. + +"We can go into partnership!" + + + + +AT THE MATZES + + +It was quite early in the morning, when Sossye, the scribe's daughter, a +girl of seventeen, awoke laughing; a sunbeam had broken through the +rusty window, made its way to her underneath the counterpane, and there +opened her eyes. + +It woke her out of a deep dream which she was ashamed to recall, but the +dream came back to her of itself, and made her laugh. + +Had she known whom she was going to meet in her dreams, she would have +lain down in her clothes, occurs to her, and she laughs aloud. + +"Got up laughing!" scolds her mother. "There's a piece of good luck for +you! It's a sign of a black year for her (may it be to my enemies!)." + +Sossye proceeds to dress herself. She does not want to fall out with her +mother to-day, she wants to be on good terms with everyone. + +In the middle of dressing she loses herself in thought, with one naked +foot stretched out and an open stocking in her hands, wondering how the +dream would have ended, if she had not awoke so soon. + +Chayyimel, a villager's son, who boards with her mother, passes the open +doors leading to Sossye's room, and for the moment he is riveted to the +spot. His eyes dance, the blood rushes to his cheeks, he gets all he can +by looking, and then hurries away to Cheder without his breakfast, to +study the Song of Songs. + +And Sossye, fresh and rosy from sleep, her brown eyes glowing under the +tumbled gold locks, betakes herself to the kitchen, where her mother, +with her usual worried look, is blowing her soul out before the oven +into a smoky fire of damp wood. + +"Look at the girl standing round like a fool! Run down to the cellar, +and fetch me an onion and some potatoes!" + +Sossye went down to the cellar, and found the onions and potatoes +sprouting. + +At sight of a green leaf, her heart leapt. Greenery! greenery! summer is +coming! And the whole of her dream came back to her! + +"Look, mother, green sprouts!" she cried, rushing into the kitchen. + +"A thousand bad dreams on your head! The onions are spoilt, and she +laughs! My enemies' eyes will creep out of their lids before there will +be fresh greens to eat, and all this, woe is me, is only fit to throw +away!" + +"Greenery, greenery!" thought Sossye, "summer is coming!" + +Greenery had got into her head, and there it remained, and from greenery +she went on to remember that to-day was the first Passover-cake baking +at Gedalyeh the baker's, and that Shloimeh Shieber would be at work +there. + +Having begged of her mother the one pair of boots that stood about in +the room and fitted everyone, she put them on, and was off to the +Matzes. + +It was, as we have said, the first day's work at Gedalyeh the baker's, +and the sack of Passover flour had just been opened. Gravely, the +flour-boy, a two weeks' orphan, carried the pot of flour for the +Mehereh, and poured it out together with remembrances of his mother, who +had died in the hospital of injuries received at _their_ hands, and the +water-boy came up behind him, and added recollections of his own. + +"The hooligans threw his father into the water off the bridge--may they +pay for it, suesser Gott! May they live till he is a man, and can settle +his account with them!" + +Thus the grey-headed old Henoch, the kneader, and he kneaded it all into +the dough, with thoughts of his own grandchildren: this one fled abroad, +the other in the regiment, and a third in prison. + +The dough stiffens, the horny old hands work it with difficulty. The +dough gets stiffer every year, and the work harder, it is time for him +to go to the asylum! + +The dough is kneaded, cut up in pieces, rolled and riddled--is that a +token for the whole Congregation of Israel? And now appear the round +Matzes, which must wander on a shovel into the heated oven of Shloimeh +Shieber, first into one corner, and then into another, till another +shovel throws them out into a new world, separated from the old by a +screen thoroughly scoured for Passover, which now rises and now falls. +There they are arranged in columns, a reminder of Pithom and Rameses. +Kuk-ruk, kuk-ruk, ruk-ruk, whisper the still warm Matzes one to another; +they also are remembering, and they tell the tale of the Exodus after +their fashion, the tale of the flight out of Egypt--only they have seen +more flights than one. + +Thus are the Matzes kneaded and baked by the Jews, with "thoughts." The +Gentiles call them "blood," and assert that Jews need blood for their +Matzes, and they take the trouble to supply us with fresh "thoughts" +every year! + +But at Gedalyeh the baker's all is still cheerfulness. Girls and boys, +in their unspent vigor, surround the tables, there is rolling and +riddling and cleaning of clean rolling-pins with pieces of broken glass +(from where ever do Jews get so much broken glass?), and the whole town +is provided with kosher Matzes. Jokes and silver trills escape the +lively young workers, the company is as merry as though the Exodus were +to-morrow. + +But it won't be to-morrow. Look at them well, because another day you +will not find them so merry, they will not seem like the same. + +One of the likely lads has left his place, and suddenly appeared at a +table beside a pretty, curly-haired girl. He has hurried over his +Matzes, and now he wants to help her. + +She thanks him for his attention with a rolling-pin over the fingers, +and there is such laughter among the spectators that Berke, the old +overseer, exclaims, "What impertinence!" + +But he cannot finish, because he has to laugh himself. There is a spark +in the embers of his being which the girlish merriment around him +kindles anew. + +And the other lads are jealous of the beaten one. They know very well +that no girl would hit a complete stranger, and that the blow only +meant, "Impudent boy, why need the world know of anything between us?" + +Shloimehle Shieber, armed with the shovels, stands still for a minute +trying to distinguish Sossye's voice in the peals of laughter. The +Matzes under his care are browning in the oven. + +And Sossye takes it into her head to make her Matzes with one pointed +corner, so that he may perhaps know them for hers, and laughs to herself +as she does so. + +There is one table to the side of the room which was not there last +year; it was placed there for the formerly well-to-do housemistresses, +who last year, when they came to bake their Matzes, gave Yom-tov money +to the others. Here all goes on quietly; the laughter of the merry +people breaks against the silence, and is swallowed up. + +The work grows continually pleasanter and more animated. The riddler +stamps two or three Matzes with hieroglyphs at once, in order to show +off. Shloimeh at the oven cannot keep pace with him, and grows angry: + +"May all bad...." + +The wish is cut short in his mouth, he has caught a glance of Sossye's +through the door of the baking-room, he answers with two, gets three +back, Sossye pursing her lips to signify a kiss. Shloimeh folds his +hands, which also means something. + +Meantime ten Matzes get scorched, and one of Sossye's is pulled in two. +"Brennen brennt mir mein Harz," starts a worker singing in a plaintive +key. + +"Come! hush, hush!" scolds old Berke. "Songs, indeed! What next, you +impudent boy?" + +"My sorrows be on their head!" sighs a neighbor of Sossye's. "They'd +soon be tired of their life, if they were me. I've left two children at +home fit to scream their hearts out. The other is at the breast, I have +brought it along. It is quiet just now, by good luck." + +"What is the use of a poor woman's having children?" exclaims another, +evidently "expecting" herself. Indeed, she has a child a year--and a +seven-days' mourning a year afterwards. + +"Do you suppose I ask for them? Do you think I cry my eyes out for them +before God?" + +"If she hasn't any, who's to inherit her place at the Matzes-baking--a +hundred years hence?" + +"All very well for you to talk, _you're_ a grass-widow (to no Jewish +daughter may it apply!)!" + +"May such a blow be to my enemies as he'll surely come back again!" + +"It's about time! After three years!" + +"Will you shut up, or do you want another beating?" + +Sossye went off into a fresh peal of laughter, and the shovel fell out +of Shloimeh's hand. + +Again he caught a glance, but this time she wrinkled her nose at him, as +much as to say, "Fie, you shameless boy! Can't you behave yourself even +before other people?" + +Hereupon the infant gave account of itself in a small, shrill voice, and +the general commotion went on increasing. The overseer scolded, the +Matzes-printing-wheel creaked and squeaked, the bits of glass were +ground against the rolling-pins, there was a humming of songs and a +proclaiming of secrets, followed by bursts of laughter, Sossye's voice +ringing high above the rest. + +And the sun shone into the room through the small window--a white spot +jumped around and kissed everyone there. + +Is it the Spirit of Israel delighting in her young men and maidens and +whispering in their ears: "What if it _is_ Matzes-kneading, and what if +it _is_ Exile? Only let us be all together, only let us all be merry!" + +Or is it the Spring, transformed into a white patch of sunshine, in +which all have equal share, and which has not forgotten to bring good +news into the house of Gedalyeh the Matzeh-baker? + +A beautiful sun was preparing to set, and promised another fine day for +the morrow. + +"Ding-dong, gul-gul-gul-gul-gul-gul!" + +It was the convent bells calling the Christians to confession! + +All tongues were silenced round the tables at Gedalyeh the baker's. + +A streak of vapor dimmed the sun, and gloomy thoughts settled down upon +the hearts of the workers. + +"Easter! _Their_ Easter is coming on!" and mothers' eyes sought their +children. + +The white patch of sunshine suddenly gave a terrified leap across the +ceiling and vanished in a corner. + +"Kik-kik, kik-rik, kik-rik," whispered the hot Matzes. Who is to know +what they say? + +Who can tell, now that the Jews have baked this year's Matzes, how soon +_they_ will set about providing them with material for the +next?--"thoughts," and broken glass for the rolling-pins. + + + + +DAVID FRISCHMANN + + +Born, 1863, in Lodz, Russian Poland, of a family of merchants; +education, Jewish and secular, the latter with special attention to +foreign languages and literatures; has spent most of his life in Warsaw; +Hebrew critic, editor, poet, satirist, and writer of fairy tales; +translator of George Eliot's Daniel Deronda into Hebrew; contributor to +Sholom-Alechem's Juedische Volksbibliothek, Spektor's Hausfreund, and +various periodicals; editor of monthly publication Reshafim; collected +works in Hebrew, Ketabim Nibharim, 2 vols., Warsaw, 1899-1901, and +Reshimot, 4 parts, Warsaw, 1911. + + + + +THREE WHO ATE + + +Once upon a time three people ate. I recall the event as one recalls a +dream. Black clouds obscure the men, because it happened long ago. + +Only sometimes it seems to me that there are no clouds, but a pillar of +fire lighting up the men and their doings, and the fire grows bigger and +brighter, and gives light and warmth to this day. + +I have only a few words to tell you, two or three words: once upon a +time three people ate. Not on a workday or an ordinary Sabbath, but on a +Day of Atonement that fell on a Sabbath. + +Not in a corner where no one sees or hears, but before all the people in +the great Shool, in the principal Shool of the town. + +Neither were they ordinary men, these three, but the chief Jews of the +community: the Rabbi and his two Dayonim. + +The townsfolk looked up to them as if they had been angels, and +certainly held them to be saints. And now, as I write these words, I +remember how difficult it was for me to understand, and how I sometimes +used to think the Rabbi and his Dayonim had done wrong. But even then I +felt that they were doing a tremendous thing, that they were holy men +with holy instincts, and that it was not easy for them to act thus. Who +knows how hard they fought with themselves, who knows how they +suffered, and what they endured? + +And even if I live many years and grow old, I shall never forget the day +and the men, and what was done on it, for they were no ordinary men, but +great heroes. + +Those were bitter times, such as had not been for long, and such as will +not soon return. + +A great calamity had descended on us from Heaven, and had spread abroad +among the towns and over the country: the cholera had broken out. + +The calamity had reached us from a distant land, and entered our little +town, and clutched at young and old. + +By day and by night men died like flies, and those who were left hung +between life and death. + +Who can number the dead who were buried in those days! Who knows the +names of the corpses which lay about in heaps in the streets! + +In the Jewish street the plague made great ravages: there was not a +house where there lay not one dead--not a family in which the calamity +had not broken out. + +In the house where we lived, on the second floor, nine people died in +one day. In the basement there died a mother and four children, and in +the house opposite we heard wild cries one whole night through, and in +the morning we became aware that there was no one left in it alive. + +The grave-diggers worked early and late, and the corpses lay about in +the streets like dung. They stuck one to the other like clay, and one +walked over dead bodies. + +The summer broke up, and there came the Solemn Days, and then the most +dreadful day of all--the Day of Atonement. + +I shall remember that day as long as I live. + +The Eve of the Day of Atonement--the reciting of Kol Nidre! + +At the desk before the ark there stands, not as usual the precentor and +two householders, but the Rabbi and his two Dayonim. + +The candles are burning all round, and there is a whispering of the +flames as they grow taller and taller. The people stand at their +reading-desks with grave faces, and draw on the robes and prayer-scarfs, +the Spanish hoods and silver girdles; and their shadows sway this way +and that along the walls, and might be the ghosts of the dead who died +to-day and yesterday and the day before yesterday. Evidently they could +not rest in their graves, and have also come into the Shool. + +Hush!... the Rabbi has begun to say something, and the Dayonim, too, and +a groan rises from the congregation. + +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to pray with them that have transgressed." + +And a great fear fell upon me and upon all the people, young and old. In +that same moment I saw the Rabbi mount the platform. Is he going to +preach? Is he going to lecture the people at a time when they are +falling dead like flies? But the Rabbi neither preached nor lectured. He +only called to remembrance the souls of those who had died in the +course of the last few days. But how long it lasted! How many names he +mentioned! The minutes fly one after the other, and the Rabbi has not +finished! Will the list of souls never come to an end? Never? And it +seems to me the Rabbi had better call out the names of those who are +left alive, because they are few, instead of the names of the dead, who +are without number and without end. + +I shall never forget that night and the praying, because it was not +really praying, but one long, loud groan rising from the depth of the +human heart, cleaving the sky and reaching to Heaven. Never since the +world began have Jews prayed in greater anguish of soul, never have +hotter tears fallen from human eyes. + +_That_ night no one left the Shool. + +After the prayers they recited the Hymn of Unity, and after that the +Psalms, and then chapters from the Mishnah, and then ethical books.... + +And I also stand among the congregation and pray, and my eyelids are +heavy as lead, and my heart beats like a hammer. + +"U-Malochim yechofezun--and the angels fly around." + +And I fancy I see them flying in the Shool, up and down, up and down. +And among them I see the bad angel with the thousand eyes, full of eyes +from head to feet. + +That night no one left the Shool, but early in the morning there were +some missing--two of the congregation had fallen during the night, and +died before our eyes, and lay wrapped in their prayer-scarfs and white +robes--nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead. + +They kept on bringing messages into the Shool from the Gass, but nobody +wanted to listen or to ask questions, lest he should hear what had +happened in his own house. No matter how long I live, I shall never +forget that night, and all I saw and heard. + +But the Day of Atonement, the day that followed, was more awful still. + +And even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole picture, and I think +I am standing once more among the people in the Shool. + +It is Atonement Day in the afternoon. + +The Rabbi stands on the platform in the centre of the Shool, tall and +venerable, and there is a fascination in his noble features. And there, +in the corner of the Shool, stands a boy who never takes his eyes off +the Rabbi's face. + +In truth I never saw a nobler figure. + +The Rabbi is old, seventy or perhaps eighty years, but tall and straight +as a fir-tree. His long beard is white like silver, but the thick, long +hair of his head is whiter still, and his face is blanched, and his lips +are pale, and only his large black eyes shine and sparkle like the eyes +of a young lion. + +I stood in awe of him when I was a little child. I knew he was a man of +God, one of the greatest authorities in the Law, whose advice was sought +by the whole world. + +I knew also that he inclined to leniency in all his decisions, and that +none dared oppose him. + +The sight I saw that day in Shool is before my eyes now. + +The Rabbi stands on the platform, and his black eyes gleam and shine in +the pale face and in the white hair and beard. + +The Additional Service is over, and the people are waiting to hear what +the Rabbi will say, and one is afraid to draw one's breath. + +And the Rabbi begins to speak. + +His weak voice grows stronger and higher every minute, and at last it is +quite loud. + +He speaks of the sanctity of the Day of Atonement and of the holy Torah; +of repentance and of prayer, of the living and of the dead, and of the +pestilence that has broken out and that destroys without pity, without +rest, without a pause--for how long? for how much longer? + +And by degrees his pale cheeks redden and his lips also, and I hear him +say: "And when trouble comes to a man, he must look to his deeds, and +not only to those which concern him and the Almighty, but to those which +concern himself, to his body, to his flesh, to his own health." + +I was a child then, but I remember how I began to tremble when I heard +these words, because I had understood. + +The Rabbi goes on speaking. He speaks of cleanliness and wholesome air, +of dirt, which is dangerous to man, and of hunger and thirst, which are +men's bad angels when there is a pestilence about, devouring without +pity. + +And the Rabbi goes on to say: + +"And men shall live by My commandments, and not die by them. There are +times when one must turn aside from the Law, if by so doing a whole +community may be saved." + +I stand shaking with fear. What does the Rabbi want? What does he mean +by his words? What does he think to accomplish? And suddenly I see that +he is weeping, and my heart beats louder and louder. What has happened? +Why does he weep? And there I stand in the corner, in the silence, and I +also begin to cry. + +And to this day, if I shut my eyes, I see him standing on the platform, +and he makes a sign with his hand to the two Dayonim to the left and +right of him. He and they whisper together, and he says something in +their ear. What has happened? Why does his cheek flame, and why are +theirs as white as chalk? + +And suddenly I hear them talking, but I cannot understand them, because +the words do not enter my brain. And yet all three are speaking so +sharply and clearly! + +And all the people utter a groan, and after the groan I hear the words, +"With the consent of the All-Present and with the consent of this +congregation, we give leave to eat and drink on the Day of Atonement." + +Silence. Not a sound is heard in the Shool, not an eyelid quivers, not a +breath is drawn. + +And I stand in my corner and hear my heart beating: one--two--one--two. +A terror comes over me, and it is black before my eyes. The shadows move +to and fro on the wall, and amongst the shadows I see the dead who died +yesterday and the day before yesterday and the day before the day +before yesterday--a whole people, a great assembly. + +And suddenly I grasp what it is the Rabbi asks of us. The Rabbi calls on +us to eat, to-day! The Rabbi calls on Jews to eat on the Day of +Atonement--not to fast, because of the cholera--because of the +cholera--because of the cholera ... and I begin to cry loudly. And it is +not only I--the whole congregation stands weeping, and the Dayonim on +the platform weep, and the greatest of all stands there sobbing like a +child. + +And he implores like a child, and his words are soft and gentle, and +every now and then he weeps so that his voice cannot be heard. + +"Eat, Jews, eat! To-day we must eat. This is a time to turn aside from +the Law. We are to live through the commandments, and not die through +them!" + +But no one in the Shool has stirred from his place, and there he stands +and begs of them, weeping, and declares that he takes the whole +responsibility on himself, that the people shall be innocent. But no one +stirs. And presently he begins again in a changed voice--he does not +beg, he commands: + +"I give you leave to eat--I--I--I!" + +And his words are like arrows shot from the bow. + +But the people are deaf, and no one stirs. + +Then he begins again with his former voice, and implores like a child: + +"What would you have of me? Why will you torment me till my strength +fails? Think you I have not struggled with myself from early this +morning till now?" + +And the Dayonim also plead with the people. + +And of a sudden the Rabbi grows as white as chalk, and lets his head +fall on his breast. There is a groan from one end of the Shool to the +other, and after the groan the people are heard to murmur among +themselves. + +Then the Rabbi, like one speaking to himself, says: + +"It is God's will. I am eighty years old, and have never yet +transgressed a law. But this is also a law, it is a precept. Doubtless +the Almighty wills it so! Beadle!" + +The beadle comes, and the Rabbi whispers a few words into his ear. + +He also confers with the Dayonim, and they nod their heads and agree. + +And the beadle brings cups of wine for Sanctification, out of the +Rabbi's chamber, and little rolls of bread. And though I should live +many years and grow very old, I shall never forget what I saw then, and +even now, when I shut my eyes, I see the whole thing: three Rabbis +standing on the platform in Shool, and eating before the whole people, +on the Day of Atonement! + +The three belong to the heroes. + +Who shall tell how they fought with themselves, who shall say how they +suffered, and what they endured? + +"I have done what you wished," says the Rabbi, and his voice does not +shake, and his lips do not tremble. + +"God's Name be praised!" + +And all the Jews ate that day, they ate and wept. + +Rays of light beam forth from the remembrance, and spread all around, +and reach the table at which I sit and write these words. + +Once again: three people ate. + +At the moment when the awesome scene in the Shool is before me, there +are three Jews sitting in a room opposite the Shool, and they also are +eating. + +They are the three "enlightened" ones of the place: the tax-collector, +the inspector, and the teacher. + +The window is wide open, so that all may see; on the table stands a +samovar, glasses of red wine, and eatables. And the three sit with +playing-cards in their hands, playing Preference, and they laugh and eat +and drink. + +Do they also belong to the heroes? + + + + +MICHA JOSEPH BERDYCZEWSKI + + +Born, 1865, in Berschad, Podolia, Southwestern Russia; educated in +Yeshibah of Volozhin; studied also modern literatures in his youth; has +been living alternately in Berlin and Breslau; Hebrew, Yiddish, and +German writer, on philosophy, aesthetics, and Jewish literary, spiritual, +and timely questions; contributor to Hebrew periodicals; editor of +Bet-Midrash, supplement to Bet-Ozar ha-Sifrut; contributed Ueber den +Zusammenhang zwischen Ethik und Aesthetik to Berner Studien zur +Philosophie und ihrer Geschichte; author of two novels, Mibayit u-Mihuz, +and Mahanaim; a book on the Hasidim, Warsaw, 1900; Juedische Ketobim vun +a weiten Korov, Warsaw; Hebrew essays on miscellaneous subjects, eleven +parts, Warsaw and Breslau (in course of publication). + + + + +MILITARY SERVICE + + +"They look as if they'd enough of me!" + +So I think to myself, as I give a glance at my two great top-boots, my +wide trousers, and my shabby green uniform, in which there is no whole +part left. + +I take a bit of looking-glass out of my box, and look at my reflection. +Yes, the military cap on my head is a beauty, and no mistake, as big as +Og king of Bashan, and as bent and crushed as though it had been sat +upon for years together. + +Under the cap appears a small, washed-out face, yellow and weazened, +with two large black eyes that look at me somewhat wildly. + +I don't recognize myself; I remember me in a grey jacket, narrow, +close-fitting trousers, a round hat, and a healthy complexion. + +I can't make out where I got those big eyes, why they shine so, why my +face should be yellow, and my nose, pointed. + +And yet I know that it is I myself, Chayyim Blumin, and no other; that I +have been handed over for a soldier, and have to serve only two years +and eight months, and not three years and eight months, because I have a +certificate to the effect that I have been through the first four +classes in a secondary school. + +Though I know quite well that I am to serve only two years and eight +months, I feel the same as though it were to be forever; I can't, +somehow, believe that my time will some day expire, and I shall once +more be free. + +I have tried from the very beginning not to play any tricks, to do my +duty and obey orders, so that they should not say, "A Jew won't work--a +Jew is too lazy." + +Even though I am let off manual labor, because I am on "privileged +rights," still, if they tell me to go and clean the windows, or polish +the flooring with sand, or clear away the snow from the door, I make no +fuss and go. I wash and clean and polish, and try to do the work well, +so that they should find no fault with me. + +They haven't yet ordered me to carry pails of water. + +Why should I not confess it? The idea of having to do that rather +frightens me. When I look at the vessel in which the water is carried, +my heart begins to flutter: the vessel is almost as big as I am, and I +couldn't lift it even if it were empty. + +I often think: What shall I do, if to-morrow, or the day after, they +wake me at three o'clock in the morning and say coolly: + +"Get up, Blumin, and go with Ossadtchok to fetch a pail of water!" + +You ought to see my neighbor Ossadtchok! He looks as if he could squash +me with one finger. It is as easy for him to carry a pail of water as to +drink a glass of brandy. How can I compare myself with him? + +I don't care if it makes my shoulder swell, if I could only carry the +thing. I shouldn't mind about that. But God in Heaven knows the truth, +that I won't be able to lift the pail off the ground, only they won't +believe me, they will say: + +"Look at the lazy Jew, pretending he is a poor creature that can't lift +a pail!" + +There--I mind that more than anything. + +I don't suppose they _will_ send me to fetch water, for, after all, I am +on "privileged rights," but I can't sleep in peace: I dream all night +that they are waking me at three o'clock, and I start up bathed in a +cold sweat. + +Drill does not begin before eight in the morning, but they wake us at +six, so that we may have time to clean our rifles, polish our boots and +leather girdle, brush our coat, and furbish the brass buttons with +chalk, so that they should shine like mirrors. + +I don't mind the getting up early, I am used to rising long before +daylight, but I am always worrying lest something shouldn't be properly +cleaned, and they should say that a Jew is so lazy, he doesn't care if +his things are clean or not, that he's afraid of touching his rifle, and +pay me other compliments of the kind. + +I clean and polish and rub everything all I know, but my rifle always +seems in worse condition than the other men's. I can't make it look the +same as theirs, do what I will, and the head of my division, a corporal, +shouts at me, calls me a greasy fellow, and says he'll have me up before +the authorities because I don't take care of my arms. + +But there is worse than the rifle, and that is the uniform. Mine is +_years_ old--I am sure it is older than I am. Every day little pieces +fall out of it, and the buttons tear themselves out of the cloth, +dragging bits of it after them. + +I never had a needle in my hand in all my life before, and now I sit +whole nights and patch and sew on buttons. And next morning, when the +corporal takes hold of a button and gives a pull, to see if it's firmly +sewn, a pang goes through my heart: the button is dragged out, and a +piece of the uniform follows. + +Another whole night's work for me! + +After the inspection, they drive us out into the yard and teach us to +stand: it must be done so that our stomachs fall in and our chests stick +out. I am half as one ought to be, because my stomach is flat enough +anyhow, only my chest is weak and narrow and also flat--flat as a board. + +The corporal squeezes in my stomach with his knee, pulls me forward by +the flaps of the coat, but it's no use. He loses his temper, and calls +me greasy fellow, screams again that I am pretending, that I _won't_ +serve, and this makes my chest fall in more than ever. + +I like the gymnastics. + +In summer we go out early into the yard, which is very wide and covered +with thick grass. + +It smells delightfully, the sun warms us through, it feels so pleasant. + +The breeze blows from the fields, I open my mouth and swallow the +freshness, and however much I swallow, it's not enough, I should like to +take in all the air there is. Then, perhaps, I should cough less, and +grow a little stronger. + +We throw off the old uniforms, and remain in our shirts, we run and leap +and go through all sorts of performances with our hands and feet, and +it's splendid! At home I never had so much as an idea of such fun. + +At first I was very much afraid of jumping across the ditch, but I +resolved once and for all--I've _got_ to jump it. If the worst comes to +the worst, I shall fall and bruise myself. Suppose I do? What then? Why +do all the others jump it and don't care? One needn't be so very strong +to jump! + +And one day, before the gymnastics had begun, I left my comrades, took +heart and a long run, and when I came to the ditch, I made a great +bound, and, lo and behold, I was over on the other side! I couldn't +believe my own eyes that I had done it so easily. + +Ever since then I have jumped across ditches, and over mounds, and down +from mounds, as well as any of them. + +Only when it comes to climbing a ladder or swinging myself over a high +bar, I know it spells misfortune for me. + +I spring forward, and seize the first rung with my right hand, but I +cannot reach the second with my left. + +I stretch myself, and kick out with my feet, but I cannot reach any +higher, not by so much as a vershok, and so there I hang and kick with +my feet, till my right arm begins to tremble and hurt me. My head goes +round, and I fall onto the grass. The corporal abuses me as usual, and +the soldiers laugh. + +I would give ten years of my life to be able to get higher, if only +three or four rungs, but what can I do, if my arms won't serve me? + +Sometimes I go out to the ladder by myself, while the soldiers are still +asleep, and stand and look at it: perhaps I can think of a way to +manage? But in vain. Thinking, you see, doesn't help you in these cases. + +Sometimes they tell one of the soldiers to stand in the middle of the +yard with his back to us, and we have to hop over him. He bends down a +little, lowers his head, rests his hands on his knees, and we hop over +him one at a time. One takes a good run, and when one comes to him, one +places both hands on his shoulders, raises oneself into the air, +and--over! + +I know exactly how it ought to be done; I take the run all right, and +plant my hands on his shoulders, only I can't raise myself into the air. +And if I do lift myself up a little way, I remain sitting on the +soldier's neck, and were it not for his seizing me by the feet, I should +fall, and perhaps kill myself. + +Then the corporal and another soldier take hold of me by the arms and +legs, and throw me over the man's head, so that I may see there is +nothing dreadful about it, as though I did not jump right over him +because I was afraid, while it is that my arms are so weak, I cannot +lean upon them and raise myself into the air. + +But when I say so, they only laugh, and don't believe me. They say, "It +won't help you; you will have to serve anyhow!" + + * * * * * + +When, on the other hand, it comes to "theory," the corporal is very +pleased with me. + +He says that except himself no one knows "theory" as I do. + +He never questions me now, only when one of the others doesn't know +something, he turns to me: + +"Well, Blumin, _you_ tell me!" + +I stand up without hurrying, and am about to answer, but he is +apparently not pleased with my way of rising from my seat, and orders me +to sit down again. + +"When your superior speaks to you," says he, "you ought to jump up as +though the seat were hot," and he looks at me angrily, as much as to +say, "You may know theory, but you'll please to know your manners as +well, and treat me with proper respect." + +"Stand up again and answer!" + +I start up as though I felt a prick from a needle, and answer the +question as he likes it done: smartly, all in one breath, and word for +word according to the book. + +He, meanwhile, looks at the primer, to make sure I am not leaving +anything out, but as he reads very slowly, he cannot catch me up, and +when I have got to the end, he is still following with his finger and +reading. And when he has finished, he gives me a pleased look, and says +enthusiastically "Right!" and tells me to sit down again. + +"Theory," he says, "that you _do_ know!" + +Well, begging his pardon, it isn't much to know. And yet there are +soldiers who are four years over it, and don't know it then. For +instance, take my comrade Ossadtchok; he says that, when it comes to +"theory", he would rather go and hang or drown himself. He says, he +would rather have to carry three pails of water than sit down to +"theory." + +I tell him, that if he would learn to read, he could study the whole +thing by himself in a week; but he won't listen. + +"Nobody," he says, "will ever ask _my_ advice." + +One thing always alarmed me very much: However was I to take part in the +manoeuvres? + +I cannot lift a single pud (I myself only weigh two pud and thirty +pounds), and if I walk three versts, my feet hurt, and my heart beats so +violently that I think it's going to burst my side. + +At the manoeuvres I should have to carry as much as fifty pounds' +weight, and perhaps more: a rifle, a cloak, a knapsack with linen, +boots, a uniform, a tent, bread, and onions, and a few other little +things, and should have to walk perhaps thirty to forty versts a day. + +But when the day and the hour arrived, and the command was given +"Forward, march!" when the band struck up, and two thousand men set +their feet in motion, something seemed to draw me forward, and I went. +At the beginning I found it hard, I felt weighted to the earth, my left +shoulder hurt me so, I nearly fainted. But afterwards I got very hot, I +began to breathe rapidly and deeply, my eyes were starting out of my +head like two cupping-glasses, and I not only walked, I ran, so as not +to fall behind--and so I ended by marching along with the rest, forty +versts a day. + +Only I did not sing on the march like the others. First, because I did +not feel so very cheerful, and second, because I could not breathe +properly, let alone sing. + +At times I felt burning hot, but immediately afterwards I would grow +light, and the marching was easy, I seemed to be carried along rather +than to tread the earth, and it appeared to me as though another were +marching in my place, only that my left shoulder ached, and I was hot. + +I remember that once it rained a whole night long, it came down like a +deluge, our tents were soaked through, and grew heavy. The mud was +thick. At three o'clock in the morning an alarm was sounded, we were +ordered to fold up our tents and take to the road again. So off we went. + +It was dark and slippery. It poured with rain. I was continually +stepping into a puddle, and getting my boot full of water. I shivered +and shook, and my teeth chattered with cold. That is, I was cold one +minute and hot the next. But the marching was no difficulty to me, I +scarcely felt that I was on the march, and thought very little about it. +Indeed, I don't know what I _was_ thinking about, my mind was a blank. + +We marched, turned back, and marched again. Then we halted for half an +hour, and turned back again. + +And this went on a whole night and a whole day. + +Then it turned out that there had been a mistake: it was not we who +ought to have marched, but another regiment, and we ought not to have +moved from the spot. But there was no help for it then. + +It was night. We had eaten nothing all day. The rain poured down, the +mud was ankle-deep, there was no straw on which to pitch our tents, but +we managed somehow. And so the days passed, each like the other. But I +got through the manoeuvres, and was none the worse. + +Now I am already an old soldier; I have hardly another year and a half +to serve--about sixteen months. I only hope I shall not be ill. It seems +I got a bit of a chill at the manoeuvres, I cough every morning, and +sometimes I suffer with my feet. I shiver a little at night till I get +warm, and then I am very hot, and I feel very comfortable lying abed. +But I shall probably soon be all right again. + +They say, one may take a rest in the hospital, but I haven't been there +yet, and don't want to go at all, especially now I am feeling better. +The soldiers are sorry for me, and sometimes they do my work, but not +just for love. I get three pounds of bread a day, and don't eat more +than one pound. The rest I give to my comrade Ossadtchok. He eats it +all, and his own as well, and then he could do with some more. In return +for this he often cleans my rifle, and sometimes does other work for me, +when he sees I have no strength left. + +I am also teaching him and a few other soldiers to read and write, and +they are very pleased. + +My corporal also comes to me to be taught, but he never gives me a word +of thanks. + +The superior of the platoon, when he isn't drunk, and is in good humor, +says "you" to me instead of "thou," and sometimes invites me to share +his bed--I can breathe easier there, because there is more air, and I +don't cough so much, either. + +Only it sometimes happens that he comes back from town tipsy, and makes +a great to-do: How do I, a common soldier, come to be sitting on his +bed? + +He orders me to get up and stand before him "at attention," and declares +he will "have me up" for it. + +When, however, he has sobered down, he turns kind again, and calls me to +him; he likes me to tell him "stories" out of books. + +Sometimes the orderly calls me into the orderly-room, and gives me a +report to draw up, or else a list or a calculation to make. He himself +writes badly, and is very poor at figures. + +I do everything he wants, and he is very glad of my help, only it +wouldn't do for him to confess to it, and when I have finished, he +always says to me: + +"If the commanding officer is not satisfied, he will send you to fetch +water." + +I know it isn't true, first, because the commanding officer mustn't know +that I write in the orderly-room, a Jew can't be an army secretary; +secondly, because he is certain to be satisfied: he once gave me a note +to write himself, and was very pleased with it. + +"If you were not a Jew," he said to me then, "I should make a corporal +of you." + +Still, my corporal always repeats his threat about the water, so that I +may preserve a proper respect for him, although I not only respect him, +I tremble before his size. When _he_ comes back tipsy from town, and +finds me in the orderly-room, he commands me to drag his muddy boots off +his feet, and I obey him and drag off his boots. + +Sometimes I don't care, and other times it hurts my feelings. + + + + +ISAIAH BERSCHADSKI + + +Pen name of Isaiah Domaschewitski; born, 1871, near Derechin, Government +of Grodno (Lithuania), White Russia; died, 1909, in Warsaw; education, +Jewish and secular; teacher of Hebrew in Ekaterinoslav, Southern Russia; +in business, in Ekaterinoslav and Baku; editor, in 1903, of Ha-Zeman, +first in St. Petersburg, then in Wilna; after a short sojourn in Riga +removed to Warsaw; writer of novels and short stories, almost +exclusively in Hebrew; contributor to Ha-Meliz, Ha-Shiloah, and other +periodicals; pen names besides Berschadski: Berschadi, and Shimoni; +collected works in Hebrew, Tefusim u-Zelalim, Warsaw, 1899, and Ketabim +Aharonim, Warsaw, 1909. + + + + +FORLORN AND FORSAKEN + + +Forlorn and forsaken she was in her last years. Even when she lay on the +bed of sickness where she died, not one of her relations or friends came +to look after her; they did not even come to mourn for her or accompany +her to the grave. There was not even one of her kin to say the first +Kaddish over her resting-place. My wife and I were the only friends she +had at the close of her life, no one but us cared for her while she was +ill, or walked behind her coffin. The only tears shed at the lonely old +woman's grave were ours. I spoke the only Kaddish for her soul, but we, +after all, were complete strangers to her! + +Yes, we were strangers to her, and she was a stranger to us! We made her +acquaintance only a few years before her death, when she was living in +two tiny rooms opposite the first house we settled in after our +marriage. Nobody ever came to see her, and she herself visited nowhere, +except at the little store where she made her necessary purchases, and +at the house-of-study near by, where she prayed twice every day. She was +about sixty, rather undersized, and very thin, but more lithesome in her +movements than is common at that age. Her face was full of creases and +wrinkles, and her light brown eyes were somewhat dulled, but her ready +smile and quiet glance told of a good heart and a kindly temper. Her +simple old gown was always neat, her wig tastefully arranged, her +lodging and its furniture clean and tidy--and all this attracted us to +her from the first day onward. We were still more taken with her +retiring manner, the quiet way in which she kept herself in the +background and the slight melancholy of her expression, telling of a +life that had held much sadness. + +We made advances. She was very willing to become acquainted with us, and +it was not very long before she was like a mother to us, or an old aunt. +My wife was then an inexperienced "housemistress" fresh to her duties, +and found a great help in the old woman, who smilingly taught her how to +proceed with the housekeeping. When our first child was born, she took +it to her heart, and busied herself with its upbringing almost more than +the young mother. It was evident that dandling the child in her arms was +a joy to her beyond words. At such moments her eyes would brighten, her +wrinkles grew faint, a curiously satisfied smile played round her lips, +and a new note of joy came into her voice. + +At first sight all this seemed quite simple, because a woman is +naturally inclined to care for little children, and it may have been so +with her to an exceptional degree, but closer examination convinced me +that here lay yet another reason; her attentions to the child, so it +seemed, awakened pleasant memories of a long-ago past, when she herself +was a young mother caring for children of her own, and looking at this +strange child had stirred a longing for those other children, further +from her eyes, but nearer to her heart, although perhaps quite unknown +to her--who perhaps existed only in her imagination. + +And when we were made acquainted with the details of her life, we knew +our conjectures to be true. Her history was very simple and commonplace, +but very tragic. Perhaps the tragedy of such biographies lies in their +being so very ordinary and simple! + +She lived quietly and happily with her husband for twenty years after +their marriage. They were not rich, but their little house was a kingdom +of delight, where no good thing was wanting. Their business was farming +land that belonged to a Polish nobleman, a business that knows of good +times and of bad, of fat years and lean years, years of high prices and +years of low. But on the whole it was a good business and profitable, +and it afforded them a comfortable living. Besides, they were used to +the country, they could not fancy themselves anywhere else. The very +thing that had never entered their head is just what happened. In the +beginning of the "eighties" they were obliged to leave the estate they +had farmed for ten years, because the lease was up, and the recently +promulgated "temporary laws" forbade them to renew it. This was bad for +them from a material point of view, because it left them without regular +income just when their children were growing up and expenses had +increased, but their mental distress was so great, that, for the time, +the financial side of the misfortune was thrown into the shade. + +When we made her acquaintance, many years had passed since then, many +another trouble had come into her life, but one could hear tears in her +voice while she told the story of that first misfortune. It was a +bitter Tisho-b'ov for them when they left the house, the gardens, the +barns, and the stalls, their whole life, all those things concerning +which they had forgotten, and their children had hardly known, that they +were not their own possession. + +Their town surroundings made them more conscious of their altered +circumstances. She herself, the elder children oftener still, had been +used to drive into the town now and again, but that was on pleasure +trips, which had lasted a day or two at most; they had never tried +staying there longer, and it was no wonder if they felt cramped and +oppressed in town after their free life in the open. + +When they first settled there, they had a capital of about ten thousand +rubles, but by reason of inexperience in their new occupation they were +worsted in competition with others, and a few turns of bad luck brought +them almost to ruin. The capital grew less from year to year; everything +they took up was more of a struggle than the last venture; poverty came +nearer and nearer, and the father of the family began to show signs of +illness, brought on by town life and worry. This, of course, made their +material position worse, and the knowledge of it reacted disastrously on +his health. Three years after he came to town, he died, and she was left +with six children and no means of subsistence. Already during her +husband's life they had exchanged their first lodging for a second, a +poorer and cheaper one, and after his death they moved into a third, +meaner and narrower still, and sold their precious furniture, for which, +indeed, there was no place in the new existence. But even so the +question of bread and meat was not answered. They still had about six +hundred rubles, but, as they were without a trade, it was easy to +foresee that the little stock of money would dwindle day by day till +there was none of it left--and what then? + +The eldest son, Yossef, aged twenty-one, had gone from home a year +before his father's death, to seek his fortune elsewhere; but his first +letters brought no very good news, and now the second, Avrohom, a lad of +eighteen, and the daughter Rochel, who was sixteen, declared their +intention to start for America. The mother was against it, begged them +with tears not to go, but they did not listen to her. Parting with them, +forever most likely, was bad enough in itself, but worst of all was the +thought that her children, for whose Jewish education their father had +never grudged money even when times were hardest, should go to America, +and there, forgetting everything they had learned, become "ganze Goyim." +She was quite sure that her husband would never have agreed to his +children's being thus scattered abroad, and this encouraged her to +oppose their will with more determination. She urged them to wait at +least till their elder brother had achieved some measure of success, and +could help them. She held out this hope to them, because she believed in +her son Yossef and his capacity, and was convinced that in a little time +he would become their support. + +If only Avrohom and Rochel had not been so impatient (she would lament +to us), everything would have turned out differently! They would not +have been bustled off to the end of creation, and she would not have +been left so lonely in her last years, but--it had apparently been so +ordained! + +Avrohom and Rochel agreed to defer the journey, but when some months had +passed, and Yossef was still wandering from town to town, finding no +rest for the sole of his foot, she had to give in to her children and +let them go. They took with them two hundred rubles and sailed for +America, and with the remaining three hundred rubles she opened a tiny +shop. Her expenses were not great now, as only the three younger +children were left her, but the shop was not sufficient to support even +these. The stock grew smaller month by month, there never being anything +over wherewith to replenish it, and there was no escaping the fact that +one day soon the shop would remain empty. + +And as if this were not enough, there came bad news from the children in +America. They did not complain much; on the contrary, they wrote most +hopefully about the future, when their position would certainly, so they +said, improve; but the mother's heart was not to be deceived, and she +felt instinctively that meanwhile they were doing anything but well, +while later--who could foresee what would happen later? + +One day she got a letter from Yossef, who wrote that, convinced of the +impossibility of earning a livelihood within the Pale, he was about to +make use of an opportunity that offered itself, and settle in a distant +town outside of it. This made her very sad, and she wept over her +fate--to have a son living in a Gentile city, where there were hardly +any Jews at all. And the next letter from America added sorrow to +sorrow. Avrohom and Rochel had parted company, and were living in +different towns. She could not bear the thought of her young daughter +fending for herself among strangers--a thought that tortured her all the +more as she had a peculiar idea of America. She herself could not +account for the terror that would seize her whenever she remembered that +strange, distant life. + +But the worst was nearly over; the turn for the better came soon. She +received word from Yossef that he had found a good position in his new +home, and in a few weeks he proved his letter true by sending her money. +From America, too, the news that came was more cheerful, even joyous. +Avrohom had secured steady work with good pay, and before long he wrote +for his younger brother to join him in America, and provided him with +all the funds he needed for travelling expenses. Rochel had engaged +herself to a young man, whose praises she sounded in her letters. Soon +after her wedding, she sent money to bring over another brother, and her +husband added a few lines, in which he spoke of "his great love for his +new relations," and how he "looked forward with impatience to having one +of them, his dear brother-in-law, come to live with him." + +This was good and cheering news, and it all came within a year's time, +but the mother's heart grieved over it more than it rejoiced. Her +delight at her daughter's marriage with a good man she loved was +anything but unmixed. Melancholy thoughts blended with it, whether she +would or not. The occasion was one which a mother's fancy had painted in +rainbow colors, on the preparations for which it had dwelt with untold +pleasure--and now she had had no share in it at all, and her heart +writhed under the disappointment. To make her still sadder, she was +obliged to part with two more children. She tried to prevent their +going, but they had long ago set their hearts on following their brother +and sister to America, and the recent letters had made them more anxious +to be off. + +So they started, and there remained only the youngest daughter, Rivkeh, +a girl of thirteen. Their position was materially not a bad one, for +every now and then the old woman received help from her children in +America and from her son Yossef, so that she was not even obliged to +keep up the shop, but the mother in her was not satisfied, because she +wanted to see her children's happiness with her own eyes. The good news +that continued to arrive at intervals brought pain as well as pleasure, +by reminding her how much less fortunate she was than other mothers, who +were counted worthy to live together with their children, and not at a +distance from them like her. + +The idea that she should go out to those of them who were in America, +never occurred to her, or to them, either! But Yossef, who had taken a +wife in his new town, and who, soon after, had set up for himself, and +was doing very well, now sent for his mother and little sister to come +and live with him. At first the mother was unwilling, fearing that she +might be in the way of her daughter-in-law, and thus disturb the +household peace; even later, when she had assured herself that the young +wife was very kind, and there was nothing to be afraid of, she could not +make up her mind to go, even though she longed to be with Yossef, her +oldest son, who had always been her favorite, and however much she +desired to see his wife and her little grandchildren. + +Why she would not fulfil his wish and her own, she herself was not +clearly conscious; but she shrank from the strange fashion of the life +they led, and she never ceased to hope, deep down in her heart, that +some day they would come back to her. And this especially with regard to +Yossef, who sometimes complained in his letters that his situation was +anything but secure, because the smallest circumstance might bring about +an edict of expulsion. She quite understood that her son would consider +this a very bad thing, but she herself looked at it with other eyes; +round about _here_, too, were people who made a comfortable living, and +Yossef was no worse than others, that he should not do the same. + +Six or seven years passed in this way; the youngest daughter was twenty, +and it was time to think of a match for her. Her mother felt sure that +Yossef would provide the dowry, but she thought best Rivkeh and her +brother should see each other, and she consented readily to let Rivkeh +go to him, when Yossef invited her to spend several months as his guest. +No sooner had she gone, than the mother realized what it meant, this +parting with her youngest and, for the last years, her only child. She +was filled with regret at not having gone with her, and waited +impatiently for her return. Suddenly she heard that Rivkeh had found +favor with a friend of Yossef's, the son of a well-to-do merchant, and +that Rivkeh and her brother were equally pleased with him. The two were +already engaged, and the wedding was only deferred till she, the mother, +should come and take up her abode with them for good. + +The longing to see her daughter overcame all her doubts. She resolved to +go to her son, and began preparations for the start. These were just +completed, when there came a letter from Yossef to say that the +situation had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and he and his family +might have to leave their town. + +This sudden news was distressing and welcome at one and the same time. +She was anxious lest the edict of expulsion should harm her son's +position, and pleased, on the other hand, that he should at last be +coming back, for God would not forsake him here, either; what with the +fortune he had, and his aptitude for trade, he would make a living right +enough. She waited anxiously, and in a few months had gone through all +the mental suffering inherent in a state of uncertainty such as hers, +when fear and hope are twined in one. + +The waiting was the harder to bear that all this time no letter from +Yossef or Rivkeh reached her promptly. And the end of it all was this: +news came that the danger was over, and Yossef would remain where he +was; but as far as she was concerned, it was best she should do +likewise, because trailing about at her age was a serious thing, and it +was not worth while her running into danger, and so on. + +The old woman was full of grief at remaining thus forlorn in her old +age, and she longed more than ever for her children after having hoped +so surely that she would be with them soon. She could not understand +Yossef's reason for suddenly changing his mind with regard to her +coming; but it never occurred to her for one minute to doubt her +children's affection. And we, when we had read the treasured bundle of +letters from Yossef and Rivkeh, we could not doubt it, either. There was +love and longing for the distant mother in every line, and several of +the letters betrayed a spirit of bitterness, a note of complaining +resentment against the hard times that had brought about the separation +from her. And yet we could not help thinking, "Out of sight, out of +mind," that which is far from the eyes, weighs lighter at the heart. It +was the only explanation we could invent, for why, otherwise, should the +mother have to remain alone among strangers? + +All these considerations moved me to interfere in the matter without the +old woman's knowledge. She could read Yiddish, but could not write it, +and before we made friends, her letters to the children were written by +a shopkeeper of her acquaintance. But from the time we got to know her, +I became her constant secretary, and one day, when writing to Yossef for +her, I made use of the opportunity to enclose a letter from myself. I +asked his forgiveness for mixing myself up in another's family affairs, +and tried to justify the interference by dwelling on our affectionate +relations with his mother. I then described, in the most touching words +at my command, how hard it was for her to live forlorn, how she pined +for the presence of her children and grandchildren, and ended by telling +them, that it was their duty to free their mother from all this mental +suffering. + +There was no direct reply to this letter of mine, but the next one from +the son to his mother gave her to understand that there are certain +things not to be explained, while the impossibility of explaining them +may lead to a misunderstanding. This hint made the position no clearer +to us, and the fact of Yossef's not answering me confirmed us in our +previous suspicions. + +Meanwhile our old friend fell ill, and quickly understood that she would +soon die. Among the things she begged me to do after her death and +having reference to her burial, there was one particular petition +several times repeated: to send a packet of Hebrew books, which had been +left by her husband, to her son Yossef, and to inform him of her death +by telegram. "My American children"--she explained with a sigh--"have +certainly forgotten everything they once learned, forgotten all their +Jewishness! But my son Yossef is a different sort; I feel sure of him, +that he will say Kaddish after me and read a chapter in the Mishnah, and +the books will come in useful for his children--Grandmother's legacy to +them." + +When I fulfilled the old woman's last wish, I learned how mistaken she +had been. The answer to my letter written during her lifetime came now +that she was dead. Her children thanked us warmly for our care of her, +and they also explained why she and they had remained apart. + +She had never known--and it was far better so--by what means her son had +obtained the right to live outside the Pale. It was enough that she +should have to live _forlorn_, where would have been the good of her +knowing that she was _forsaken_ as well--that the one of her children +who had gone altogether over to "them" was Yossef? + + + + +TASHRAK + + +Pen name of Israel Joseph Zevin; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government +of Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; came to New York in 1889; first +Yiddish sketch published in Juedisches Tageblatt, 1893; first English +story in The American Hebrew, 1906; associate editor of Juedisches +Tageblatt; writer of sketches, short stories, and biographies, in +Hebrew, Yiddish, and English; contributor to Ha-Ibri, Jewish Comment, +and numerous Yiddish periodicals; collected works, Geklibene Schriften, +1 vol., New York, 1910, and Tashrak's Beste Erzaehlungen, 4 vols., New +York, 1910. + + + + +THE HOLE IN A BEIGEL + + +When I was a little Cheder-boy, my Rebbe, Bunem-Breine-Gite's, a learned +man, who was always tormenting me with Talmudical questions and with +riddles, once asked me, "What becomes of the hole in a Beigel, when one +has eaten the Beigel?" + +This riddle, which seemed to me then very hard to solve, stuck in my +head, and I puzzled over it day and night. I often bought a Beigel, took +a bite out of it, and immediately replaced the bitten-out piece with my +hand, so that the hole should not escape. But when I had eaten up the +Beigel, the hole had somehow always disappeared, which used to annoy me +very much. I went about preoccupied, thought it over at prayers and at +lessons, till the Rebbe noticed that something was wrong with me. + +At home, too, they remarked that I had lost my appetite, that I ate +nothing but Beigel--Beigel for breakfast, Beigel for dinner, Beigel for +supper, Beigel all day long. They also observed that I ate it to the +accompaniment of strange gestures and contortions of both my mouth and +my hands. + +One day I summoned all my courage, and asked the Rebbe, in the middle of +a lesson on the Pentateuch: + +"Rebbe, when one has eaten a Beigel, what becomes of the hole?" + +"Why, you little silly," answered the Rebbe, "what is a hole in a +Beigel? Just nothing at all! A bit of emptiness! It's nothing _with_ the +Beigel and nothing _without_ the Beigel!" + +Many years have passed since then, and I have not yet been able to +satisfy myself as to what is the object of a hole in a Beigel. I have +considered whether one could not have Beigels without holes. One lives +and learns. And America has taught me this: One _can_ have Beigels +without holes, for I saw them in a dairy-shop in East Broadway. I at +once recited the appropriate blessing, and then I asked the shopman +about these Beigels, and heard a most interesting history, which shows +how difficult it is to get people to accept anything new, and what +sacrifices it costs to introduce the smallest reform. + +This is the story: + +A baker in an Illinois city took it into his head to make straight +Beigels, in the shape of candles. But this reform cost him dear, because +the united owners of the bakeries in that city immediately made a set at +him and boycotted him. + +They argued: "Our fathers' fathers baked Beigels with holes, the whole +world eats Beigels with holes, and here comes a bold coxcomb of a +fellow, upsets the order of the universe, and bakes Beigels _without_ +holes! Have you ever heard of such impertinence? It's just revolution! +And if a person like this is allowed to go on, he will make an end of +everything: to-day it's Beigels without holes, to-morrow it will be +holes without Beigels! Such a thing has never been known before!" + +And because of the hole in a Beigel, a storm broke out in that city that +grew presently into a civil war. The "bosses" fought on, and dragged the +bakers'-hands Union after them into the conflict. Now the Union +contained two parties, of which one declared that a hole and a Beigel +constituted together a private affair, like religion, and that everyone +had a right to bake Beigels as he thought best, and according to his +conscience. The other party maintained, that to sell Beigels without +holes was against the constitution, to which the first party replied +that the constitution should be altered, as being too ancient, and +contrary to the spirit of the times. At this the second party raised a +clamor, crying that the rules could not be altered, because they were +Toras-Lokshen and every letter, every stroke, every dot was a law in +itself! The city papers were obliged to publish daily accounts of the +meetings that were held to discuss the hole in a Beigel, and the papers +also took sides, and wrote fiery polemical articles on the subject. The +quarrel spread through the city, until all the inhabitants were divided +into two parties, the Beigel-with-a-hole party and the +Beigel-without-a-hole party. Children rose against their parents, wives +against their husbands, engaged couples severed their ties, families +were broken up, and still the battle raged--and all on account of the +hole in a Beigel! + + + + +AS THE YEARS ROLL ON + + +Rosalie laid down the cloth with which she had been dusting the +furniture in her front parlor, and began tapping the velvet covering of +the sofa with her fingers. The velvet had worn threadbare in places, and +there was a great rent in the middle. + +Had the rent been at one of the ends, it could have been covered with a +cushion, but there it was, by bad luck, in the very centre, and making a +shameless display of itself: Look, here I am! See what a rent! + +Yesterday she and her husband had invited company. The company had +brought children, and you never have children in the house without +having them leave some mischief behind them. + +To-day the sun was shining more brightly than ever, and lighting up the +whole room. Rosalie took the opportunity to inspect her entire set of +furniture. Eight years ago, when she was given the set at her marriage, +how happy, she had been! Everything was so fresh and new. + +She had noticed before that the velvet was getting worn, and the polish +of the chairs disappearing, and the seats losing their spring, but +to-day all this struck her more than formerly. The holes, the rents, the +damaged places, stared before them with such malicious mockery--like a +poor man laughing at his own evil plight. + +Rosalie felt a painful melancholy steal over her. Now she could not but +see that her furniture was old, that she would soon be ashamed to +invite people into her parlor. And her husband will be in no hurry to +present her with a new one--he has grown so parsimonious of late! + +She replaced the holland coverings of the sofa and chairs, and went out +to do her bedroom. There, on a chair, lay her best dress, the one she +had put on yesterday for her guests. + +She considered the dress: that, too, was frayed in places; here and +there even drawn together and sewn over. The bodice was beyond ironing +out again--and this was her best dress. She opened the wardrobe, for she +wanted to make a general survey of her belongings. It was such a light +day, one could see even in the back rooms. She took down one dress after +another, and laid them out on the made beds, observing each with a +critical eye. Her sense of depression increased the while, and she felt +as though stone on stone were being piled upon her heart. + +She began to put the clothes back into the wardrobe, and she hung up +every one of them with a sigh. When she had finished with the bedroom, +she went into the dining-room, and stood by the sideboard on which were +set out her best china service and colored plates. She looked them over. +One little gold-rimmed cup had lost its handle, a bowl had a piece glued +in at the side. On the top shelf stood the statuette of a little god +with a broken bow and arrow in his hand, and here there was one little +goblet missing out of a whole service. + +As soon as everything was in order, Rosalie washed her face and hands, +combed up her hair, and began to look at herself in a little +hand-glass, but the bath-room, to which she had retired, was dark, and +she betook herself back into the front parlor, towel in hand, where she +could see herself in the big looking-glass on the wall. Time, which had +left traces on the furniture, on the contents of the wardrobe, and on +the china, had not spared the woman, though she had been married only +eight years. She looked at the crow's-feet by her eyes, and the lines in +her forehead, which the worrying thoughts of this day had imprinted +there even more sharply than usual. She tried to smile, but the smile in +the glass looked no more attractive than if she had given her mouth a +twist. She remembered that the only way to remain young is to keep free +from care. But how is one to set about it? She threw on a scarlet +Japanese kimono, and stuck an artificial flower into her hair, after +which she lightly powdered her face and neck. The scarlet kimono lent a +little color to her cheeks, and another critical glance at the mirror +convinced her that she was still a comely woman, only no more a young +one. + +The bloom of youth had fled, never to return. Verfallen! And the desire +to live was stronger than ever, even to live her life over again from +the beginning, sorrows and all. + +She began to reflect what she should cook for supper. There was time +enough, but she must think of something new: her husband was tired of +her usual dishes. He said her cooking was old-fashioned, that it was +always the same thing, day in and day out. His taste was evidently +getting worn-out, too. + +And she wondered what she could prepare, so as to win back her husband's +former good temper and affectionate appreciation. + +At one time he was an ardent young man, with a fiery tongue. He had +great ideals, and he strove high. He talked of making mankind happy, +more refined, more noble and free. He had dreamt of a world without +tears and troubles, of a time when men should live as brothers, and +jealousy and hatred should be unknown. In those days he loved with all +the warmth of his youth, and when he talked of love, it was a delight to +listen. The world grew to have another face for her then, life, another +significance, Paradise was situated on the earth. + +Gradually his ideals lost their freshness, their shine wore off, and he +became a business man, racking his brain with speculations, trying to +grow rich without the necessary qualities and capabilities, and he was +left at last with prematurely grey hair as the only result of his +efforts. + +Eight years after their marriage he was as worn as their furniture in +the front parlor. + +Rosalie looked out of the window. It was even much brighter outside than +indoors. She saw people going up and down the street with different +anxieties reflected in their faces, with wrinkles telling different +histories of the cares of life. She saw old faces, and the young faces +of those who seemed to have tasted of age ere they reached it. +"Everything is old and worn and shabby," whispered a voice in her ear. + +A burst of childish laughter broke upon her meditations. Round the +corner came with a rush a lot of little boys with books under their +arms, their faces full of the zest of life, and dancing and jumping till +the whole street seemed to be jumping and dancing, too. Elder people +turned smilingly aside to make way for them. Among the children Rosalie +espied two little girls, also with books under their arms, her little +girls! And the mother's heart suddenly brimmed with joy, a delicious +warmth stole into her limbs and filled her being. + +Rosalie went to the door to meet her two children on their return from +school, and when she had given each little face a motherly kiss, she +felt a breath of freshness and new life blowing round her. + +She took off their cloaks, and listened to their childish prattle about +their teachers and the day's lessons. + +The clear voices rang through the rooms, awaking sympathetic echoes in +every corner. The home wore a new aspect, and the sun shone even more +brightly than before and in more friendly, kindly fashion. + +The mother spread a little cloth at the edge of the table, gave them +milk and sandwiches, and looked at them as they ate--each child the +picture of the mother, her eyes, her hair, her nose, her look, her +gestures--they ate just as she would do. + +And Rosalie feels much better and happier. She doesn't care so much now +about the furniture being old, the dresses worn, the china service not +being whole, about the wrinkles round her eyes and in her forehead. She +only minds about her husband's being so worn-out, so absent-minded that +he cannot take pleasure in the children as she can. + + + + +DAVID PINSKI + + +Born, 1872, in Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; refused admission to +Gymnasium in Moscow under percentage restrictions; 1889-1891, secretary +to Bene Zion in Vitebsk; 1891-1893, student in Vienna; 1893, co-editor +of Spektor's Hausfreund and Perez's Yom-tov Blaettlech; 1893, first +sketch published in New York Arbeiterzeitung; 1896, studied philosophy +in Berlin; 1899, came to New York, and edited Das Abendblatt, a daily, +and Der Arbeiter, a weekly; 1912, founder and co-editor of Die Yiddishe +Wochenschrift; author of short stories, sketches, an essay on the +Yiddish drama, and ten dramas, among them Yesurun, Eisik Scheftel, Die +Mutter, Die Familie Zwie, Der Oitzer, Der eibiger Jued (first part of a +series of Messiah dramas), Der stummer Moschiach, etc.; one volume of +collected dramas, Dramen, Warsaw, 1909. + + + + +REB SHLOIMEH + + +The seventy-year-old Reb Shloimeh's son, whose home was in the country, +sent his two boys to live with their grandfather and acquire town, that +is, Gentile, learning. + +"Times have changed," considered Reb Shloimeh; "it can't be helped!" and +he engaged a good teacher for the children, after making inquiries here +and there. + +"Give me a teacher who can tell the whole of _their_ Law, as the saying +goes, standing on one leg!" he would say to his friends, with a smile. + +At seventy-one years of age, Reb Shloimeh lived more indoors than out, +and he used to listen to the teacher instructing his grandchildren. + +"I shall become a doctor in my old age!" he would say, laughing. + +The teacher was one day telling his pupils about mathematical geography. +Reb Shloimeh sat with a smile on his lips, and laughing in his heart at +the little teacher who told "such huge lies" with so much earnestness. + +"The earth revolves," said the teacher to his pupils, and Reb Shloimeh +smiles, and thinks, "He must have seen it!" But the teacher shows it to +be so by the light of reason, and Reb Shloimeh becomes graver, and +ceases smiling; he is endeavoring to grasp the proofs; he wants to ask +questions, but can find none that will do, and he sits there as if he +had lost his tongue. + +The teacher has noticed his grave look, and understands that the old man +is interested in the lesson, and he begins to tell of even greater +wonders. He tells how far the sun is from the earth, how big it is, how +many earths could be made out of it--and Reb Shloimeh begins to smile +again, and at last can bear it no longer. + +"Look here," he exclaimed, "that I cannot and will not listen to! You +may tell me the earth revolves--well, be it so! Very well, I'll allow +you, that, perhaps, according to reason--even--the size of the +earth--the appearance of the earth--do you see?--all that sort of thing. +But the sun! Who has measured the sun! Who, I ask you! Have _you_ been +on it? A pretty thing to say, upon my word!" Reb Shloimeh grew very +excited. The teacher took hold of Reb Shloimeh's hand, and began to +quiet him. He told him by what means the astronomers had discovered all +this, that it was no matter of speculation; he explained the telescope +to him, and talked of mathematical calculations, which he, Reb Shloimeh, +was not able to understand. Reb Shloimeh had nothing to answer, but he +frowned and remained obstinate. "He" (he said, and made a contemptuous +motion with his hand), "it's nothing to me, not knowing that or being +able to understand it! Science, indeed! Fiddlesticks!" + +He relapsed into silence, and went on listening to the teacher's +"stories." "We even know," the teacher continued, "what metals are to be +found in the sun." + +"And suppose I won't believe you?" and Reb Shloimeh smiled maliciously. + +"I will explain directly," answered the teacher. + +"And tell us there's a fair in the sky!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, +impatiently. He was very angry, but the teacher took no notice of his +anger. + +"Two hundred years ago," began the teacher, "there lived, in England, a +celebrated naturalist and mathematician, Isaac Newton. It was told of +him that when God said, Let there be light, Newton was born." + +"Psh! I should think, very likely!" broke in Reb Shloimeh. "Why not?" + +The teacher pursued his way, and gave an explanation of spectral +analysis. He spoke at some length, and Reb Shloimeh sat and listened +with close attention. "Now do you understand?" asked the teacher, coming +to an end. + +Reb Shloimeh made no reply, he only looked up from under his brows. + +The teacher went on: + +"The earth," he said, "has stood for many years. Their exact number is +not known, but calculation brings it to several million--" + +"E," burst in the old man, "I should like to know what next! I thought +everyone knew _that_--that even _they_--" + +"Wait a bit, Reb Shloimeh," interrupted the teacher, "I will explain +directly." + +"Ma! It makes me sick to hear you," was the irate reply, and Reb +Shloimeh got up and left the room. + + * * * * * + +All that day Reb Shloimeh was in a bad temper, and went about with +knitted brows. He was angry with science, with the teacher, with +himself, because he must needs have listened to it all. + +"Chatter and foolishness! And there I sit and listen to it!" he said to +himself with chagrin. But he remembered the "chatter," something begins +to weigh on his heart and brain, he would like to find a something to +catch hold of, a proof of the vanity and emptiness of their teaching, to +invent some hard question, and stick out a long red tongue at them +all--those nowadays barbarians, those nowadays Newtons. + +"After all, it's mere child's play," he reflects. "It's ridiculous to +take their nonsense to heart." + +"Only their proofs, their proofs!" and the feeling of helplessness comes +over him once more. + +"Ma!" He pulls himself together. "Is it all over with us? Is it all up?! +All up?! The earth revolves! Gammon! As to their explanations--very +wonderful, to be sure! O, of course, it's all of the greatest +importance! Dear me, yes!" + +He is very angry, tears the buttons off his coat, puts his hat straight +on his head, and spits. + +"Apostates, nothing but apostates nowadays," he concludes. Then he +remembers the teacher--with what enthusiasm he spoke! + +His explanations ring in Reb Shloimeh's head, and prove things, and once +more the old gentleman is perplexed. + +Preoccupied, cross, with groans and sighs, he went to bed. But he was +restless all night, turning from one side to the other, and groaning. +His old wife tried to cheer him. + +"Such weather as it is to-day," she said, and coughed. "I have a pain in +the side, too." + +Next morning when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh inquired with a +displeased expression: + +"Well, are you going to tell stories again to-day?" + +"We shall not take geography to-day," answered the teacher. + +"Have your 'astronomers' found out by calculation on which days we may +learn geography?" asked Reb Shloimeh, with malicious irony. + +"No, that's a discovery of mine!" and the teacher smiled. + +"And when have 'your' astronomers decreed the study of geography?" +persisted Reb Shloimeh. + +"To-morrow." + +"To-morrow!" he repeated crossly, and left the room, missing a lesson +for the first time. + +Next day the teacher explained the eclipses of the sun and moon to his +pupils. Reb Shloimeh sat with his chair drawn up to the table, and +listened without a movement. + +"It is all so exact," the teacher wound up his explanation, "that the +astronomers are able to calculate to a minute _when_ there will be an +eclipse, and have never yet made a mistake." + +At these last words Reb Shloimeh nodded in a knowing way, and looked at +the pupils as much as to say, "You ask _me_ about that!" + +The teacher went on to tell of comets, planets, and other suns. Reb +Shloimeh snorted, and was continually interrupting the teacher with +exclamations. "If you don't believe me, go and measure for +yourself!"--"If it is not so, call me a liar!"--"Just so!"--"Within one +yard of it!" + +Reb Shloimeh repaid his Jewish education with interest. There were not +many learned men in the town like Reb Shloimeh. The Rabbis without +flattery called him "a full basket," and Reb Shloimeh could not picture +to himself the existence of sciences other than "Jewish," and when at +last he did picture it, he would not allow that they were right, +unfalsified and right. He was so far intelligent, he had received a so +far enlightened education, that he could understand how among non-Jews +also there are great men. He would even have laughed at anyone who had +maintained the contrary. But that among non-Jews there should be men as +great as any Jewish ones, that he did _not_ believe!--let alone, of +course, still greater ones. + +And now, little by little, Reb Shloimeh began to believe that "their" +learning was not altogether insignificant, for he, "the full basket," +was not finding it any too easy to master. And what he had to deal with +were not empty speculations, unfounded opinions. No, here were +mathematical computations, demonstrations which almost anyone can test +for himself, which impress themselves on the mind! And Reb Shloimeh is +vexed in his soul. He endeavored to cling to his old thoughts, his old +conceptions. He so wished to cry out upon the clear reasoning, the +simple explanations, with the phrases that are on the lips of every +ignorant obstructionist. And yet he felt that he was unjust, and he gave +up disputing with the teacher, as he paid close attention to the +latter's demonstrations. And the teacher would say quite simply: + +"One _can_ measure," he would say, "why not? Only it takes a lot of +learning." + +When the teacher was at the door, Reb Shloimeh stayed him with a +question. + +"Then," he asked angrily, "the whole of 'your' learning is nothing but +astronomy and geography?" + +"Oh, no!" said the teacher, "there's a lot besides--a lot!" + +"For instance?" + +"Do you want me to tell you standing on one leg?" + +"Well, yes, 'on one leg,'" he answered impatiently, as though in anger. + +"But one can't tell you 'on one leg,'" said the teacher. "If you like, I +shall come on Sabbath, and we can have a chat." + +"Sabbath?" repeated Reb Shloimeh in a dissatisfied tone. + +"Sabbath, because I can't come at any other time," said the teacher. + +"Then let it be Sabbath," said Reb Shloimeh, reflectively. + +"But soon after dinner," he called after the teacher, who was already +outside the door. "And everything else is as right as your astronomy?" +he shouted, when the teacher had already gone a little way. + +"You will see!" and the teacher smiled. + + * * * * * + +Never in his whole life had Reb Shloimeh waited for a Sabbath as he +waited for this one, and the two days that came before it seemed very +long to him; he never relaxed his frown, or showed a cheerful face the +whole time. And he was often seen, during those two days, to lift his +hands to his forehead. He went about as though there lay upon him a +heavy weight, which he wanted to throw off; or as if he had a very +disagreeable bit of business before him, and wished he could get it +over. + +On Sabbath he could hardly wait for the teacher's appearance. "You +wanted a lot of asking," he said to him reproachfully. + +The old lady went to take her nap, the grandchildren to their play, and +Reb Shloimeh took the snuff-box between his fingers, leant against the +back of the "grandfather's chair" in which he was sitting, and listened +with close attention to the teacher's words. + +The teacher talked a long time, mentioned the names of sciences, and +explained their meaning, and Reb Shloimeh repeated each explanation in +brief. "Physics, then, is the science of--" "That means, then, that we +have here--that physiology explains--" + +The teacher would help him, and then immediately begin to talk of +another branch of science. By the time the old lady woke up, the teacher +had given examples of anatomy, physiology, physics, chemistry, zoology, +and sociology. + +It was quite late; people were coming back from the Afternoon Service, +and those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the sky. But +Reb Shloimeh had forgotten in what sort of world he was living. He sat +with wrinkled forehead and drawn brows, listening attentively, seeing +nothing before him but the teacher's face, only catching up his every +word. + +"You are still talking?" asked the old lady, in astonishment, rubbing +her eyes. + +Reb Shloimeh turned his head toward his wife with a dazed look, as +though wondering what she meant by her question. + +"Oho!" said the old lady, "you only laugh at us women!" + +Reb Shloimeh drew his brows closer together, wrinkled his forehead still +more, and once more fastened his eyes on the teacher's lips. + +"It will soon be time to light the fire," muttered the old lady. + +The teacher glanced at the clock. "It's late," he said. + +"I should think it was!" broke in the old lady. "Why I was allowed to +sleep so long, I'm sure I don't know! People get to talking and even +forget about tea." + +Reb Shloimeh gave a look out of the window. + +"O wa!" he exclaimed, somewhat vexed, "they are already coming out of +Shool, the service is over! What a thing it is to sit talking! O wa!" + +He sprang from his seat, gave the pane a rub with his hand, and began to +recite the Afternoon Prayer. The teacher put on his things, but "Wait!" +Reb Shloimeh signed to him with his hand. + +Reb Shloimeh finished reciting "Incense." + +"When shall you teach the children all that?" he asked then, looking +into the prayer-book with a scowl. + +"Not for a long time, not so quickly," answered the teacher. "The +children cannot understand everything." + +"I should think not, anything so wonderful!" replied Reb Shloimeh, +ironically, gazing at the prayer-book and beginning "Happy are we." He +swallowed the prayers as he said them, half of every word; no matter how +he wrinkled his forehead, he could not expel the stranger thoughts from +his brain, and fix his attention on the prayers. After the service he +tried taking up a book, but it was no good, his head was a jumble of +all the new sciences. By means of the little he had just learned, he +wanted to understand and know everything, to fashion a whole body out of +a single hair, and he thought, and thought, and thought.... + +Sunday, when the teacher came, Reb Shloimeh told him that he wished to +have a little talk with him. Meantime he sat down to listen. The hour +during which the teacher taught the children was too long for him, and +he scarcely took his eyes off the clock. + +"Do you want another pupil?" he asked the teacher, stepping with him +into his own room. He felt as though he were getting red, and he made a +very angry face. + +"Why not?" answered the teacher, looking hard into Reb Shloimeh's face. +Reb Shloimeh looked at the floor, his brows, as was usual with him in +those days, drawn together. + +"You understand me--a pupil--" he stammered, "you understand--not a +little boy--a pupil--an elderly man--you understand--quite another +sort--" + +"Well, well, we shall see!" answered the teacher, smiling. + +"I mean myself!" he snapped out with great displeasure, as if he had +been forced to confess some very evil deed. "Well, I have sinned--what +do you want of me?" + +"Oh, but I should be delighted!" and the teacher smiled. + +"I always said I meant to be a doctor!" said Reb Shloimeh, trying to +joke. But his features contracted again directly, and he began to talk +about the terms, and it was arranged that every day for an hour and a +half the teacher should read to him and explain the sciences. To begin +with, Reb Shloimeh chose physiology, sociology, and mathematical +geography. + + * * * * * + +Days, weeks, and months have gone by, and Reb Shloimeh has become +depressed, very depressed. He does not sleep at night, he has lost his +appetite, doesn't care to talk to people. + +Bad, bitter thoughts oppress him. + +For seventy years he had not only known nothing, but, on the contrary, +he had known everything wrong, understood head downwards. And it seemed +to him that if he had known in his youth what he knew now, he would have +lived differently, that his years would have been useful to others. + +He could find no stain on his life--it was one long record of deeds of +charity; but they appeared to him now so insignificant, so useless, and +some of them even mischievous. Looking round him, he saw no traces of +them left. The rich man of whom he used to beg donations is no poorer +for them, and the pauper for whom he begged them is the same pauper as +before. It is true, he had always thought of the paupers as sacks full +of holes, and had only stuffed things into them because he had a soft +heart, and could not bear to see a look of disappointment, or a tear +rolling down the pale cheek of a hungry pauper. His own little world, as +he had found it and as it was now, seemed to him much worse than before, +in spite of all the good things he had done in it. + +Not one good rich man! Not one genuine pauper! They are all just as +hungry and their palms itch--there is no easing them. Times get harder, +the world gets poorer. Now he understands the reason of it all, now it +all lies before him as clear as on a map--he would be able to make every +one understand. Only now--now it was getting late--he has no strength +left. His spent life grieves him. If he had not been so active, such a +"father of the community," it would not have grieved him so much. But he +_had_ had a great influence in the town, and this influence had been +badly, blindly used! And Reb Shloimeh grew sadder day by day. + +He began to feel a pain at his heart, a stitch in the side, a burning in +his brain, and he was wrapt in his thoughts. Reb Shloimeh was +philosophizing. + +To be of use to somebody, he reflected, means to leave an impress of +good in their life. One ought to help once for all, so that the other +need never come for help again. That can be accomplished by wakening and +developing a man's intelligence, so that he may always know for himself +wherein his help lies. + +And in such work he would have spent his life. If he had only understood +long ago, ah, how useful he would have been! And a shudder runs through +him. + +Tears of vexation come more than once into his eyes. + + * * * * * + +It was no secret in the town that old Reb Shloimeh spent two to three +hours daily sitting with the teacher, only what they did together, that +nobody knew. They tried to worm something out of the maid, but what was +to be got out of a "glomp with two eyes," whose one reply was, "I don't +know." They scolded her for it. "How can you not know, glomp?" they +exclaimed. "Aren't you sometimes in the room with them?" + +"Look here, good people, what's the use of coming to me?" the maid would +cry. "How can I know, sitting in the kitchen, what they are about? When +I bring in the tea, I see them talking, and I go!" + +"Dull beast!" they would reply. Then they left her, and betook +themselves to the grandchildren, who knew nothing, either. + +"They have tea," was their answer to the question, "What does +grandfather do with the teacher?" + +"But what do they talk about, sillies?" + +"We haven't heard!" the children answered gravely. + +They tried the old lady. + +"Is it my business?" she answered. + +They tried to go in to Reb Shloimeh's house, on the pretext of some +business or other, but that didn't succeed, either. At last, a few near +and dear friends asked Reb Shloimeh himself. + +"How people do gossip!" he answered. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"We just sit and talk!" + +There it remained. The matter was discussed all over the town. Of +course, nobody was satisfied. But he pacified them little by little. + +The apostate teacher must turn hot and cold with him! + +They imagined that they were occupied with research, and that Reb +Shloimeh was opening the teacher's eyes for him--and they were pacified. +When Reb Shloimeh suddenly fell on melancholy, it never came into +anyone's head that there might be a connection between this and the +conversations. The old lady settled that it was a question of the +stomach, which had always troubled him, and that perhaps he had taken a +chill. At his age such things were frequent. "But how is one to know, +when he won't speak?" she lamented, and wondered which would be best, +cod-liver oil or dried raspberries. + +Every one else said that he was already in fear of death, and they +pitied him greatly. "That is a sickness which no doctor can cure," +people said, and shook their heads with sorrowful compassion. They +talked to him by the hour, and tried to prevent him from being alone +with his thoughts, but it was all no good; he only grew more depressed, +and would often not speak at all. + +"Such a man, too, what a pity!" they said, and sighed. "He's pining +away--given up to the contemplation of death." + +"And if you come to think, why should he fear death?" they wondered. "If +_he_ fears it, what about us? Och! och! och! Have we so much to show in +the next world?" And Reb Shloimeh had a lot to show. Jews would have +been glad of a tenth part of his world-to-come, and Christians declared +that he was a true Christian, with his love for his fellow-men, and +promised him a place in Paradise. "Reb Shloimeh is goodness itself," the +town was wont to say. His one lifelong occupation had been the affairs +of the community. "They are my life and my delight," he would repeat to +his intimate friends, "as indispensable to me as water to a fish." He +was a member of all the charitable societies. The Talmud Torah was +established under his own roof, and pretty nearly maintained at his +expense. The town called him the "father of the community," and all +unfortunate, poor, and bitter hearts blessed him unceasingly. + +Reb Shloimeh was the one person in the town almost without an enemy, +perhaps the one in the whole province. Rich men grumbled at him. He was +always after their money--always squeezing them for charities. They +called him the old fool, the old donkey, but without meaning what they +said. They used to laugh at him, to make jokes upon him, of course among +themselves; but they had no enmity against him. They all, with a full +heart, wished him joy of his tranquil life. + +Reb Shloimeh was born, and had spent years, in wealth. After making an +excellent marriage, he set up a business. His wife was the leading +spirit within doors, the head of the household, and his whole life had +been apparently a success. + +When he had married his last child, and found himself a grandfather, he +retired from business, and lived his last years on the interest of his +fortune. + +Free from the hate and jealousy of neighbors, pleasant and satisfactory +in every respect, such was Reb Shloimeh's life, and for all that he +suddenly became melancholy! It can be nothing but the fear of death! + + * * * * * + +But very soon Reb Shloimeh, as it were with a wave of the hand, +dismissed the past altogether. + +He said to himself with a groan that what had been was over and done; he +would never grow young again, and once more a shudder went through him +at the thought, and there came again the pain in his side and caught his +breath, but Reb Shloimeh took no notice, and went on thinking. +"Something must be done!" he said to himself, in the tone of one who has +suddenly lost his whole fortune--the fortune he has spent his life in +getting together, and there is nothing for him but to start work again +with his five fingers. + +And Reb Shloimeh started. He began with the Talmud Torah, where he had +already long provided for the children's bodily needs--food and +clothing. + +Now he would supply them with spiritual things--instruction and +education. + +He dismissed the old teachers, and engaged young ones in their stead, +even for Jewish subjects. Out of the Talmud Torah he wanted to make a +little university. He already fancied it a success. He closed his eyes, +laid his forehead on his hands, and a sweet, happy smile parted his +lips. He pictured to himself the useful people who would go forth out of +the Talmud Torah. Now he can die happy, he thinks. But no, he does not +want to die! He wants to live! To live and to work, work, work! He will +not and cannot see an end to his life! Reb Shloimeh feels more and more +cheerful, lively, and fresh--to work----to work--till-- + +The whole town was in commotion. + +There was a perfect din in the Shools, in the streets, in the houses. +Hypocrites and crooked men, who had never before been seen or heard of, +led the dance. + +"To make Gentiles out of the children, forsooth! To turn the Talmud +Torah into a school! That we won't allow! No matter if we have to turn +the world upside down, no matter what happens!" + +Reb Shloimeh heard the cries, and made as though he heard nothing. He +thought it would end there, that no one would venture to oppose him +further. + +"What do you say to that?" he asked the teachers. "Fanaticism has broken +out already!" + +"It will give trouble," replied the teachers. + +"Eh, nonsense!" said Reb Shloimeh, with conviction. But on Sabbath, at +the Reading of the Law, he saw that he had been mistaken. The opposition +had collected, and they got onto the platform, and all began speaking at +once. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, beyond a word +here and there, or the fragment of a sentence: "--none of it!" "we won't +allow--!" "--made into Gentiles!" + +Reb Shloimeh sat in his place by the east wall, his hands on the desk +where lay his Pentateuch. He had taken off his spectacles, and glanced +at the platform, put them on again, and was once more reading the +Pentateuch. They saw this from the platform, and began to shout louder +than ever. Reb Shloimeh stood up, took off his prayer-scarf, and was +moving toward the door, when he heard some one call out, with a bang of +his fist on the platform: + +"With the consent of the Rabbis and the heads of the community, and in +the name of the Holy Torah, it is resolved to take the children away +from the Talmud Torah, seeing that in place of the Torah there is +uncleanness----" + +Reb Shloimeh grew pale, and felt a rent in his heart. He stared at the +platform with round eyes and open mouth. + +"The children are to be made into Gentiles," shouted the person on the +platform meantime, "and we have plenty of Gentiles, thank God, already! +Thus may they perish, with their name and their remembrance! We are not +short of Gentiles--there are more every day! And hatred increases, and +God knows what the Jews are coming to! Whoso has God in his heart, and +is jealous for the honor of the Law, let him see to it that the children +cease going to the place of peril!" + +Reb Shloimeh wanted to call out, "Silence, you scoundrel!" The words all +but rolled off his tongue, but he contained himself, and moved on. + +"The one who obeys will be blessed," proclaimed the individual on the +platform, "and whoso despises the decree, his end shall be Gehenna, with +that of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who sinned and made Israel to sin!" + +With these last words the speaker threw a fiery glance at Reb Shloimeh. + +A quiver ran through the Shool, and all eyes were turned on Reb +Shloimeh, expecting him to begin abusing the speaker. A lively scene was +anticipated. But Reb Shloimeh smiled. + +He quietly handed his prayer-scarf to the beadle, wished the bystanders +"good Sabbath," and walked out of Shool, leaving them all disconcerted. + + * * * * * + +That Sabbath Reb Shloimeh was the quietest man in the whole town. He was +convinced that the interdict would have no effect on anyone. "People +are not so foolish as all that," he thought, "and they wouldn't treat +_him_ in that way!" He sat and laid plans for carrying on the education +in the Talmud Torah, and he felt so light of heart that he sang to +himself for very pleasure. + +The old wife, meanwhile, was muttering and moaning. She had all her life +been quite content with her husband and everything he did, and had +always done her best to help him, hoping that in the world to come she +would certainly share his portion of immortality. And now she saw with +horror that he was like to throw away his future. But how ever could it +be? she wondered, and was bathed in tears: "What has come over you? What +has happened to make you like that? They are not just to you, are they, +when they say that about taking children and making Gentiles of them?" +Reb Shloimeh smiled. "Do you think," he said to her, "that I have gone +mad in my old age? Don't be afraid. I'm in my right mind, and you shall +not lose your place in Paradise." + +But the wife was not satisfied with the reply, and continued to mutter +and to weep. There were goings-on in the town, too. The place was aboil +with excitement. Of course they talked about Reb Shloimeh; nobody could +make out what had come to him all of a sudden. + +"That is the teacher's work!" explained one of a knot of talkers. + +"And we thought Reb Shloimeh such a sage, such a clever man, so +book-learned. How can the teacher (may his name perish!) have talked him +over?" + +"It's a pity on the children's account!" one would exclaim here and +there. "In the Talmud Torah, under his direction, they wanted for +nothing, and what's to become of them now! They'll be running wild in +the streets!" + +"What then? Do you mean it would be better to make Gentiles of them?" + +"Well, there! Of course, I understand!" he would hasten to say, +penitently. And a resolution was passed, to the effect that the children +should not be allowed to attend the Talmud Torah. + +Reb Shloimeh stood at his window, and watched the excited groups in the +street, saw how the men threw themselves about, rocked themselves, bit +their beards, described half-circles with their thumbs, and he smiled. + +In the evening the teachers came and told him what had been said in the +town, and how all held that the children were not to be allowed to go to +the Talmud Torah. Reb Shloimeh was a little disturbed, but he composed +himself again and thought: + +"Eh, they will quiet down, never mind! They won't do it to _me_!----" + +Entering the Talmud Torah on Sunday, he was greeted by four empty walls. +Even two orphans, who had no relations or protector in the town, had not +come. They had been frightened and talked at and not allowed to attend, +and free meals had been secured for all of them, so that they should not +starve. + +For the moment Reb Shloimeh lost his head. He glanced at the teachers as +though ashamed in their presence, and his glance said, "What is to be +done now?" + +Suddenly he pulled himself together. + +"No!" he exclaimed, "they shall not get the better of me," and he ran +out of the Talmud Torah, and was gone. + +He ran from house to house, to the parents and relations of the +children. But they all looked askance at him, and he accomplished +nothing: they all kept to it--"No!" + +"Come, don't be silly! Send, send the children to the Talmud Torah," he +begged. "You will see, you will not regret it!" + +And he drew a picture for them of the sort of people the children would +become. + +But it was no use. + +"_We_ haven't got to manage the world," they answered him. "We have +lived without all that, and our children will live as we are living now. +We have no call to make Gentiles of them!" + +"We know, we know! People needn't come to us with stories," they would +say in another house. "We don't intend to sell our souls!" was the cry +in a third. + +"And who says I have sold mine?" Reb Shloimeh would ask sharply. + +"How should we know? Besides, who was talking of you?" they answered +with a sweet smile. + +Reb Shloimeh reached home tired and depressed. The old wife had a shock +on seeing him. + +"Dear Lord!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "What is the matter with +you? What makes you look like that?" + +The teachers, who were there waiting for him, asked no questions: they +had only to look at his ghastly appearance to know what had happened. + +Reb Shloimeh sank into his arm-chair. + +"Nothing," he said, looking sideways, but meaning it for the teachers. + +"Nothing is nothing!" and they betook themselves to consoling him. "We +will find something else to do, get hold of some other children, or else +wait a little--they'll ask to be taken back presently." + +Reb Shloimeh did not hear them. He had let his head sink on to his +breast, turned his look sideways, and thoughts he could not piece +together, fragments of thoughts, went round and round in the drooping +head. + +"Why? Why?" He asked himself over and over. "To do such a thing to _me_! +Well, there you are! There you have it!--You've lived your life--like a +man!--" + +His heart felt heavy and hurt him, and his brain grew warm, warm. In one +minute there ran through his head the impression which his so nearly +finished life had made on him of late, and immediately after it all the +plans he had thought out for setting to right his whole past life by +means of the little bit left him. And now it was all over and done! +"Why? Why?" he asked himself without ceasing, and could not understand +it. + +He felt his old heart bursting with love to all men. It beat more and +more strongly, and would not cease from loving; and he would fain have +seen everyone so happy, so happy! He would have worked with his last bit +of strength, he would have drawn his last breath for the cause to which +he had devoted himself. He is no longer conscious of the whereabouts of +his limbs, he feels his head growing heavier, his feet cold, and it is +dark before his eyes. + +When he came to himself again, he was in bed; on his head was a bandage +with ice; the old wife was lamenting; the teachers stood not far from +the bed, and talked among themselves. He wanted to lift his hand and +draw it across his forehead, but somehow he does not feel his hand at +all. He looks at it--it lies stretched out beside him. And Reb Shloimeh +understood what had happened to him. + +"A stroke!" he thought, "I am finished, done for!" + +He tried to give a whistle and make a gesture with his hand: +"Verfallen!" but the lips would not meet properly, and the hand never +moved. + +"There you are, done for!" the lips whispered. He glanced round, and +fixed his eyes on the teachers, and then on his wife, wishing to read in +their faces whether there was danger, whether he was dying, or whether +there was still hope. He looked, and could not make out anything. Then, +whispering, he called one of the teachers, whose looks had met his, to +his side. + +The teacher came running. + +"Done for, eh?" asked Reb Shloimeh. + +"No, Reb Shloimeh, the doctors give hope," the teacher replied, so +earnestly that Reb Shloimeh's spirits revived. + +"Nu, nu," said Reb Shloimeh, as though he meant, "So may it be! Out of +your mouth into God's ears!" + +The other teachers all came nearer. + +"Good?" whispered Reb Shloimeh, "good, ha? There's a hero for you!" he +smiled. + +"Never mind," they said cheeringly, "you will get well again, and work, +and do many things yet!" + +"Well, well, please God!" he answered, and looked away. + +And Reb Shloimeh really got better every day. The having lived wisely +and the will to live longer saved him. + +The first time that he was able to move a hand or lift a foot, a broad, +sweet smile spread itself over his face, and a fire kindled in his all +but extinguished eyes. + +"Good luck to you!" he cried out to those around. He was very cheerful +in himself, and began to think once more about doing something or other. +"People must be taught, they must be taught, even if the world turn +upside down," he thought, and rubbed his hands together with impatience. + +"If it's not to be in the Talmud Torah, it must be somewhere else!" And +he set to work thinking where it should be. He recalled all the +neighbors to his memory, and suddenly grew cheerful. + +Not far away there lived a bookbinder, who employed as many as ten +workmen. They work sometimes from fifteen to sixteen hours, and have no +strength left for study. One must teach _them_, he thinks. The master is +not likely to object. Reb Shloimeh was the making of him, he it was who +protected him, introduced him into all the best families, and finally +set him on his feet. + +Reb Shloimeh grows more and more lively, and is continually trying to +rise from his couch. + +Once out of bed, he could hardly endure to stay in the room, and how +happy he felt, when, leaning on a stick, he stept out into the street! +He hurried in the direction of the bookbinder's. + +He was convinced that people's feelings toward him had changed for the +better, that they would rejoice on seeing him. + +How he looked forward to seeing a friendly smile on every face! He would +have counted himself the happiest of men, if he had been able to hope +that now everything was different, and would come right. + +But he did not see the smile. + +The town looked upon the apoplectic stroke as God's punishment--it was +obvious. "Aha!" they had cried on hearing of it, and everyone saw in it +another proof, and it also was "obvious"--of the fact that there is a +God in the world, and that people cannot do just what they like. The +great fanatics overflowed with eloquence, and saw in it an act of +Heavenly vengeance. "Serves him right! Serves him right!" they thought. +"Whose fault is it?" people replied, when some one reminded them that it +was very sad--such a man as he had been, "Who told him to do it? He has +himself to thank for his misfortunes." + +The town had never ceased talking of him the whole time. Every one was +interested in knowing how he was, and what was the matter with him. And +when they heard that he was better, that he was getting well, they +really were pleased; they were sure that he would give up all his +foolish plans, and understand that God had punished him, and that he +would be again as before. + +But it soon became known that he clung to his wickedness, and people +ceased to rejoice. + +The Rabbi and his fanatical friends came to see him one day by way of +visiting the sick. Reb Shloimeh felt inclined to ask them if they had +come to stare at him as one visited by a miracle, but he refrained, and +surveyed them with indifference. + +"Well, how are you, Reb Shloimeh?" they asked. + +"Gentiles!" answered Reb Shloimeh, almost in spite of himself, and +smiled. + +The Rabbi and the others became confused. + +They sat a little while, couldn't think of anything to say, and got up +from their seats. Then they stood a bit, wished him a speedy return to +health, and went away, without hearing any answer from Reb Shloimeh to +their "good night." + +It was not long before the whole town knew of the visit, and it began to +boil like a kettle. + +To commit such sin is to play with destiny. Once you are in, there is no +getting out! Give the devil a hair, and he'll snatch at the whole beard. + +So when Reb Shloimeh showed himself in the street, they stared at him +and shook their heads, as though to say, "Such a man--and gone to ruin!" + +Reb Shloimeh saw it, and it cut him to the heart. Indeed, it brought the +tears to his eyes, and he began to walk quicker in the direction of the +bookbinder's. + +At the bookbinder's they received him in friendly fashion, with a hearty +"Welcome!" but he fancied that here also they looked at him askance, +and therefore he gave a reason for his coming. + +"Walking is hard work," he said, "one must have stopping-places." + +With this same excuse he went there every day. He would sit for an hour +or two, talking, telling stories, and at last he began to tell the +"stories" which the teacher had told. + +He sat in the centre of the room, and talked away merrily, with a pun +here and a laugh there, and interested the workmen deeply. Sometimes +they would all of one accord stop working, open their mouths, fix their +eyes, and hang on his lips with an intelligent smile. + +Or else they stood for a few minutes tense, motionless as statues, till +Reb Shloimeh finished, before the master should interpose. + +"Work, work--you will hear it all in time!" he would say, in a cross, +dissatisfied tone. + +And the workmen would unwillingly bend their backs once more over their +task, but Reb Shloimeh remained a little thrown out. He lost the thread +of what he was telling, began buttoning and unbuttoning his coat, and +glanced guiltily at the binder. + +But he went his own way nevertheless. + +As to his hearers, he was overjoyed with them. When he saw that the +workmen began to take interest in every book that was brought them to be +bound, he smiled happily, and his eyes sparkled with delight. + +And if it happened to be a book treating of the subjects on which they +had heard something from Reb Shloimeh, they threw themselves upon it, +nearly tore it to pieces, and all but came to blows as to who should +have the binding of it. + +Reb Shloimeh began to feel that he was doing something, that he was +being really useful, and he was supremely happy. + +The town, of course, was aware of Reb Shloimeh's constant visits to the +bookbinder's, and quickly found out what he did there. + +"He's just off his head!" they laughed, and shrugged their shoulders. +They even laughed in Reb Shloimeh's face, but he took no notice of it. + +His pleasure, however, came to a speedy end. One day the binder spoke +out. + +"Reb Shloimeh," he said shortly, "you prevent us from working with your +stories. What do you mean by it? You come and interfere with the work." + +"But do I disturb?" he asked. "They go on working all the time----" + +"And a pretty way of working," answered the bookbinder. "The boys are +ready enough at finding an excuse for idling as it is! And why do you +choose me? There are plenty of other workshops----" + +It was an honest "neck and crop" business, and there was nothing left +for Reb Shloimeh but to take up his stick and go. + +"Nothing--again!" he whispered. + +There was a sting in his heart, a beating in his temples, and his head +burned. + +"Nothing--again! This time it's all over. I must die--die--a story +_with_ an end." + +Had he been young, he would have known what to do. He would never have +begun to think about death, but now--where was the use of living on? +What was there to wait for? All over!--all over!-- + +It was as much as he could do to get home. He sat down in the arm-chair, +laid his head back, and thought. + +He pictured to himself the last weeks at the bookbinder's and the change +that had taken place in the workmen; how they had appeared +better-mannered, more human, more intelligent. It seemed to him that he +had implanted in them the love of knowledge and the inclination to +study, had put them in the way of viewing more rightly what went on +around them. He had been of some account with them--and all of a +sudden--! + +"No!" he said to himself. "They will come to me--they must come!" he +thought, and fixed his eyes on the door. + +He even forgot that they worked till nine o'clock at night, and the +whole evening he never took his eyes off the door. + +The time flew, it grew later and later, and the book-binders did not +come. + +At last he could bear it no longer, and went out into the street; +perhaps he would see them, and then he would call them in. + +It was dark in the street; the gas lamps, few and far between, scarcely +gave any light. A chilly autumn night; the air was saturated with +moisture, and there was dreadful mud under foot. There were very few +passers-by, and Reb Shloimeh remained standing at his door. + +When he heard a sound of footsteps or voices, his heart began to beat +quicker. His old wife came out three times to call him into the house +again, but he did not hear her, and remained standing outside. + +The street grew still. There was nothing more to be heard but the +rattles of the night-watchmen. Reb Shloimeh gave a last look into the +darkness, as though trying to see someone, and then, with a groan, he +went indoors. + +Next morning he felt very weak, and stayed in bed. He began to feel that +his end was near, that he was but a guest tarrying for a day. + +"It's all the same, all the same!" he said to himself, thinking quietly +about death. + +All sorts of ideas went through his head. He thought as it were +unconsciously, without giving himself a clear account of what he was +thinking of. + +A variety of images passed through his mind, scenes out of his long +life, certain people, faces he had seen here and there, comrades of his +childhood, but they all had no interest for him. He kept his eyes fixed +on the door of his room, waiting for death, as though it would come in +by the door. + +He lay like that the whole day. His wife came in continually, and asked +him questions, and he was silent, not taking his eyes off the door, or +interrupting the train of his thoughts. It seemed as if he had ceased +either to see or to hear. In the evening the teachers began coming. + +"Finished!" said Reb Shloimeh, looking at the door. Suddenly he heard a +voice he knew, and raised his head. + +"We have come to visit the sick," said the voice. + +The door opened, and there came in four workmen at once. + +At first Reb Shloimeh could not believe his eyes, but soon a smile +appeared upon his lips, and he tried to sit up. + +"Come, come!" he said joyfully, and his heart beat rapidly with +pleasure. + +The workmen remained standing some way from the bed, not venturing to +approach the sick man, but Reb Shloimeh called them to him. + +"Nearer, nearer, children!" he said. + +They came a little nearer. + +"Come here, to me!" and he pointed to the bed. + +They came up to the bed. + +"Well, what are you all about?" he asked with a smile. + +The workmen were silent. + +"Why did you not come last night?" he asked, and looked at them smiling. + +The workmen were silent, and shuffled with their feet. + +"How are you, Reb Shloimeh?" asked one of them. + +"Very well, very well," answered Reb Shloimeh, still smiling. "Thank +you, children! Thank you!" + +"Sit down, children, sit down." he said after a pause. "I will tell you +some more stories." + +"It will tire you, Reb Shloimeh," said a workman. "When you are +better----" + +"Sit down, sit down!" said Reb Shloimeh, impatiently. "That's _my_ +business!" + +The workmen exchanged glances with the teachers and the teachers signed +to them _not_ to sit down. + +"Not to-day, Reb Shloimeh, another time, when you--" + +"Sit down, sit down!" interrupted Reb Shloimeh, "Do me the pleasure!" + +Once more the workmen exchanged looks with the teachers, and, at a sign +from them, they sat down. + +Reb Shloimeh began telling them the long story of the human race, he +spoke with ardor, and it was long since his voice had sounded as it +sounded then. + +He spoke for a long, long time. + +They interrupted him two or three times, and reminded him that it was +bad for him to talk so much. But he only signified with a gesture that +they were to let him alone. + +"I am getting better," he said, and went on. + +At length the workmen rose from their seats. + +"Let us go, Reb Shloimeh. It's getting late for us," they begged. + +"True, true," he replied, "but to-morrow, do you hear? Look here, +children, to-morrow!" he said, giving them his hand. + +The workmen promised to come. They moved away a few steps, and then Reb +Shloimeh called them back. + +"And the others?" he inquired feebly, as though he were ashamed of +asking. + +"They were lazy, they wouldn't come," was the reply. + +"Well, well," he said, in a tone that meant "Well, well, I know, you +needn't say any more, but look here, to-morrow!" + +"Now I am well again," he whispered as the workmen went out. He could +scarcely move a limb, but he was very cheerful, looked at every one with +a happy smile, and his eyes shone. + +"Now I am well," he whispered when they had been obliged to put him into +bed and cover him up. "Now I am well," he repeated, feeling the while +that his head was strangely heavy, his heart faint, and that he was very +poorly. Before many minutes he had fallen into a state of +unconsciousness. + +A dreadful, heartbreaking cry recalled him to himself. He opened his +eyes. The room was full of people. In many eyes were tears. + +"Soon, then," he thought, and began to remember something. + +"What o'clock is it?" he asked of the person who stood beside him. + +"Five." + +"They stop work at nine," he whispered to himself, and called one of the +teachers to him. + +"When the workmen come, they are to let them in, do you hear!" he said. +The teacher promised. + +"They will come at nine," added Reb Shloimeh. + +In a little while he asked to write his will. After writing the will, he +undressed and closed his eyes. + +They thought he had fallen asleep, but Reb Shloimeh was not asleep. He +lay and thought, not about his past life, but about the future, the +future in which men would live. He thought of what man would come to be. +He pictured to himself a bright, glad world, in which all men would be +equal in happiness, knowledge, and education, and his dying heart beat a +little quicker, while his face expressed joy and contentment. He opened +his eyes, and saw beside him a couple of teachers. + +"And will it really be?" he asked and smiled. + +"Yes, Reb Shloimeh," they answered, without knowing to what his question +referred, for his face told them it was something good. The smile +accentuated itself on his lips. + +Once again he lost himself in thought. + +He wanted to imagine that happy world, and see with his mind's eye +nothing but happy people, educated people, and he succeeded. + +The picture was not very distinct. He was imagining a great heap of +happiness--happiness with a body and soul, and he felt _himself_ so +happy. + +A sound of lamentation disturbed him. + +"Why do they weep?" he wondered. "Every one will have a good +time--everyone!" + +He opened his eyes; there were already lights burning. The room was +packed with people. Beside him stood all his children, come together to +take leave of their father. + +He fixed his gaze on the little grandchildren, a gaze of love and +gladness. + +"_They_ will see the happy time," he thought. + +He was just going to ask the people to stop lamenting, but at that +moment his eye caught the workmen of the evening before. + +"Come here, come here, children!" and he raised his voice a little, and +made a sign with his head. People did not know what he meant. He begged +them to send the workmen to him, and it was done. + +He tried to sit up; those around helped him. + +"Thank you--children--for coming--thank you!" he said. "Stop--weeping!" +he implored of the bystanders. "I want to die quietly--I want every one +to--to--be as happy--as I am! Live, all of you, in the--hope of a--good +time--as I die--in--that hope. Dear chil--dren--" and he turned to the +workmen, "I told you--last night--how man has lived so far. How he lives +now, you know for yourselves--but the coming time will be a very happy +one: all will be happy--all! Only work honestly, and learn! Learn, +children! Everything will be all right! All will be hap----" + +A sweet smile appeared on his lips, and Reb Shloimeh died. + +In the town they--but what else _could_ they say in the town of a man +who had died without repeating the Confession, without a tremor at his +heart, without any sign of repentance? What else _could_ they say of a +man who spent his last minutes in telling people to learn, to educate +themselves? What else _could_ they say of a man who left his whole +capital to be devoted to educational purposes and schools? + +What was to be expected of them, when his own family declared in court +that their father was not responsible when he made his last will? + + * * * * * + +Forgive them, Reb Shloimeh, for they mean well--they know not what they +say and do. + + + + +S. LIBIN + + +Pen name of Israel Hurewitz; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government of +Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; assistant to a druggist at thirteen; +went to London at twenty, and, after seven months there, to New York +(1893); worked as capmaker; first sketch, "A Sifz vun a Arbeiterbrust"; +contributor to Die Arbeiterzeitung, Das Abendblatt, Die Zukunft, +Vorwaerts, etc.; prolific Yiddish playwright and writer of sketches on +New York Jewish life; dramas to the number of twenty-six produced on the +stage; collected works, Geklibene Skizzen, 1 vol., New York, 1902, and 2 +vols., New York, 1907. + + + + +A PICNIC + + +Ask Shmuel, the capmaker, just for a joke, if he would like to come for +a picnic! He'll fly out at you as if you had invited him to a swing on +the gallows. The fact is, he and his Sarah once _went_ for a picnic, and +the poor man will remember it all his days. + +It was on a Sabbath towards the end of August. Shmuel came home from +work, and said to his wife: + +"Sarah, dear!" + +"Well, husband?" was her reply. + +"I want to have a treat," said Shmuel, as though alarmed at the boldness +of the idea. + +"What sort of a treat? Shall you go to the swimming-bath to-morrow?" + +"Ett! What's the fun of that?" + +"Then, what have you thought of by way of an exception? A glass of ice +water for supper?" + +"Not that, either." + +"A whole siphon?" + +Shmuel denied with a shake of the head. + +"Whatever can it be!" wondered Sarah. "Are you going to fetch a pint of +beer?" + +"What should I want with beer?" + +"Are you going to sleep on the roof?" + +"Wrong again!" + +"To buy some more carbolic acid, and drive out the bugs?" + +"Not a bad idea," observed Shmuel, "but that is not it, either." + +"Well, then, whatever is it, for goodness' sake! The moon?" asked Sarah, +beginning to lose patience. "What have you been and thought of? Tell me +once for all, and have done with it!" + +And Shmuel said: + +"Sarah, you know, we belong to a lodge." + +"Of course I do!" and Sarah gave him a look of mingled astonishment and +alarm. "It's not more than a week since you took a whole dollar there, +and I'm not likely to have forgotten what it cost you to make it up. +What is the matter now? Do they want another?" + +"Try again!" + +"Out with it!" + +"I--want us, Sarah," stammered Shmuel,--"to go for a picnic." + +"A picnic!" screamed Sarah. "Is that the only thing you have left to +wish for?" + +"Look here, Sarah, we toil and moil the whole year through. It's nothing +but trouble and worry, trouble and worry. Call that living! When do we +ever have a bit of pleasure?" + +"Well, what's to be done?" said his wife, in a subdued tone. + +"The summer will soon be over, and we haven't set eyes on a green blade +of grass. We sit day and night sweating in the dark." + +"True enough!" sighed his wife, and Shmuel spoke louder: + +"Let us have an outing, Sarah. Let us enjoy ourselves for once, and give +the children a breath of fresh air, let us have a change, if it's only +for five minutes!" + +"What will it cost?" asks Sarah, suddenly, and Shmuel has soon made the +necessary calculation. + +"A family ticket is only thirty cents, for Yossele, Rivele, Hannahle, +and Berele; for Resele and Doletzke I haven't to pay any carfare at all. +For you and me, it will be ten cents there and ten back--that makes +fifty cents. Then I reckon thirty cents for refreshments to take with +us: a pineapple (a damaged one isn't more than five cents), a few +bananas, a piece of watermelon, a bottle of milk for the children, and a +few rolls--the whole thing shouldn't cost us more than eighty cents at +the outside." + +"Eighty cents!" and Sarah clapped her hands together in dismay. "Why, +you can live on that two days, and it takes nearly a whole day's +earning. You can buy an old ice-box for eighty cents, you can buy a pair +of trousers--eighty cents!" + +"Leave off talking nonsense!" said Shmuel, disconcerted. "Eighty cents +won't make us rich. We shall get on just the same whether we have them +or not. We must live like human beings one day in the year! Come, Sarah, +let us go! We shall see lots of other people, and we'll watch them, and +see how _they_ enjoy themselves. It will do you good to see the world, +to go where there's a bit of life! Listen, Sarah, what have you been to +worth seeing since we came to America? Have you seen Brooklyn Bridge, or +Central Park, or the Baron Hirsch baths?" + +"You know I haven't!" Sarah broke in. "I've no time to go about +sight-seeing. I only know the way from here to the market." + +"And what do you suppose?" cried Shmuel. "I should be as great a +greenhorn as you, if I hadn't been obliged to look everywhere for work. +Now I know that America is a great big place. Thanks to the slack times, +I know where there's an Eighth Street, and a One Hundred and Thirtieth +Street with tin works, and an Eighty-Fourth Street with a match factory. +I know every single lane round the World Building. I know where the +cable car line stops. But you, Sarah, know nothing at all, no more than +if you had just landed. Let us go, Sarah, I am sure you won't regret +it!" + +"Well, you know best!" said his wife, and this time she smiled. "Let us +go!" + +And thus it was that Shmuel and his wife decided to join the lodge +picnic on the following day. + +Next morning they all rose much earlier than usual on a Sunday, and +there was a great noise, for they took the children and scrubbed them +without mercy. Sarah prepared a bath for Doletzke, and Doletzke screamed +the house down. Shmuel started washing Yossele's feet, but as Yossele +habitually went barefoot, he failed to bring about any visible +improvement, and had to leave the little pair of feet to soak in a basin +of warm water, and Yossele cried, too. It was twelve o'clock before the +children were dressed and ready to start, and then Sarah turned her +attention to her husband, arranged his trousers, took the spots out of +his coat with kerosene, sewed a button onto his vest. After that she +dressed herself, in her old-fashioned satin wedding dress. At two +o'clock they set forth, and took their places in the car. + +"Haven't we forgotten anything?" asked Sarah of her husband. + +Shmuel counted his children and the traps. "No, nothing, Sarah!" he +said. + +Doletzke went to sleep, the other children sat quietly in their places. +Sarah, too, fell into a doze, for she was tired out with the +preparations for the excursion. + +All went smoothly till they got some way up town, when Sarah gave a +start. + +"I don't feel very well--my head is so dizzy," she said to Shmuel. + +"I don't feel very well, either," answered Shmuel. "I suppose the fresh +air has upset us." + +"I suppose it has," said his wife. "I'm afraid for the children." + +Scarcely had she spoken when Doletzke woke up, whimpering, and was sick. +Yossele, who was looking at her, began to cry likewise. The mother +scolded him, and this set the other children crying. The conductor cast +a wrathful glance at poor Shmuel, who was so frightened that he dropped +the hand-bag with the provisions, and then, conscious of the havoc he +had certainly brought about inside the bag by so doing, he lost his head +altogether, and sat there in a daze. Sarah was hushing the children, but +the look in her eyes told Shmuel plainly enough what to expect once they +had left the car. And no sooner had they all reached the ground in +safety than Sarah shot out: + +"So, nothing would content him but a picnic? Much good may it do him! +You're a workman, and workmen have no call to go gadding about!" + +Shmuel was already weary of the whole thing, and said nothing, but he +felt a tightening of the heart. + +He took up Yossele on one arm and Resele on the other, and carried the +bag with the presumably smashed-up contents besides. + +"Hush, my dears! Hush, my babies!" he said. "Wait a little and mother +will give you some bread and sugar. Hush, be quiet!" He went on, but +still the children cried. + +Sarah carried Doletzke, and rocked her as she walked, while Berele and +Hannahle trotted alongside. + +"He has shortened my days," said Sarah, "may his be shortened likewise." + +Soon afterwards they turned into the park. + +"Let us find a tree and sit down in the shade," said Shmuel. "Come, +Sarah!" + +"I haven't the strength to drag myself a step further," declared Sarah, +and she sank down like a stone just inside the gate. Shmuel was about to +speak, but a glance at Sarah's face told him she was worn out, and he +sat down beside his wife without a word. Sarah gave Doletzke the breast. +The other children began to roll about in the grass, laughed and played, +and Shmuel breathed easier. + +Girls in holiday attire walked about the park, and there were groups +under the trees. Here was a handsome girl surrounded by admiring boys, +and there a handsome young man encircled by a bevy of girls. + +Out of the leafy distance of the park came the melancholy song of a +workman; near by stood a man playing on a fiddle. Sarah looked about her +and listened, and by degrees her vexation vanished. It is true that her +heart was still sore, but it was not with the soreness of anger. She was +taking her life to pieces and thinking it over, and it seemed a very +hard and bitter one, and when she looked at her husband and thought of +his life, she was near crying, and she laid her hands upon his knee. + +Shmuel also sat lost in thought. He was thinking about the trees and the +roses and the grass, and listening to the fiddle. And he also was sad at +heart. + +"O Sarah!" he sighed, and he would have said more, but just at that +moment it began to spot with rain, and before they had time to move +there came a downpour. People started to scurry in all directions, but +Shmuel stood like a statue. + +"Shlimm-mazel, look after the children!" commanded Sarah. Shmuel caught +up two of them, Sarah another two or three, and they ran to a shelter. +Doletzke began to cry afresh. + +"Mame, hungry!" began Berele. + +"Hungry, hungry!" wailed Yossele. "I want to eat!" + +Shmuel hastily opened the hand-bag, and then for the first time he saw +what had really happened: the bottle had broken, and the milk was +flooding the bag; the rolls and bananas were soaked, and the pineapple +(a damaged one to begin with) looked too nasty for words. Sarah caught +sight of the bag, and was so angry, she was at a loss how to wreak +vengeance on her husband. She was ashamed to scream and scold in the +presence of other people, but she went up to him, and whispered +fervently into his ear, "The same to you, my good man!" + +The children continued to clamor for food. + +"I'll go to the refreshment counter and buy a glass of milk and a few +rolls," said Shmuel to his wife. + +"Have you actually some money left?" asked Sarah. "I thought it had all +been spent on the picnic." + +"There are just five cents over." + +"Well, then go and be quick about it. The poor things are starving." + +Shmuel went to the refreshment stall, and asked the price of a glass of +milk and a few rolls. + +"Twenty cents, mister," answered the waiter. + +Shmuel started as if he had burnt his finger, and returned to his wife +more crestfallen than ever. + +"Well, Shlimm-mazel, where's the milk?" inquired Sarah. + +"He asked twenty cents." + +"Twenty cents for a glass of milk and a roll? Are you Montefiore?" Sarah +could no longer contain herself. "They'll be the ruin of us! If you want +to go for another picnic, we shall have to sell the bedding." + +The children never stopped begging for something to eat. + +"But what are we to do?" asked the bewildered Shmuel. + +"Do?" screamed Sarah. "Go home, this very minute!" + +Shmuel promptly caught up a few children, and they left the park. Sarah +was quite quiet on the way home, merely remarking to her husband that +she would settle her account with him later. + +"I'll pay you out," she said, "for my satin dress, for the hand-bag, for +the pineapple, for the bananas, for the milk, for the whole blessed +picnic, for the whole of my miserable existence." + +"Scold away!" answered Shmuel. "It is you who were right. I don't know +what possessed me. A picnic, indeed! You may well ask what next? A poor +wretched workman like me has no business to think of anything beyond the +shop." + +Sarah, when they reached home, was as good as her word. Shmuel would +have liked some supper, as he always liked it, even in slack times, but +there was no supper given him. He went to bed a hungry man, and all +through the night he repeated in his sleep: + +"A picnic, oi, a picnic!" + + + + +MANASSEH + + +It was a stifling summer evening. I had just come home from work, taken +off my coat, unbuttoned my waistcoat, and sat down panting by the window +of my little room. + +There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for my reply, in came +a woman with yellow hair, and very untidy in her dress. + +I judged from her appearance that she had not come from a distance. She +had nothing on her head, her sleeves were tucked up, she held a ladle in +her hand, and she was chewing something or other. + +"I am Manasseh's wife," said she. + +"Manasseh Gricklin's?" I asked. + +"Yes," said my visitor, "Gricklin's, Gricklin's." + +I hastily slipped on a coat, and begged her to be seated. + +Manasseh was an old friend of mine, he was a capmaker, and we worked +together in one shop. + +And I knew that he lived somewhere in the same tenement as myself, but +it was the first time I had the honor of seeing his wife. + +"Look here," began the woman, "don't you work in the same shop as my +husband?" + +"Yes, yes," I said. + +"Well, and now tell me," and the yellow-haired woman gave a bound like a +hyena, "how is it I see you come home from work with all other +respectable people, and my husband not? And it isn't the first time, +either, that he's gone, goodness knows where, and come home two hours +after everyone else. Where's he loitering about?" + +"I don't know," I replied gravely. + +The woman brandished her ladle in such a way that I began to think she +meant murder. + +"You don't know?" she exclaimed with a sinister flash in her eyes. "What +do you mean by that? Don't you two leave the shop together? How can you +help seeing what becomes of him?" + +Then I remembered that when Manasseh and I left the shop, he walked with +me a few blocks, and then went off in another direction, and that one +day, when I asked him where he was going, he had replied, "To some +friends." + +"He must go to some friends," I said to the woman. + +"To some friends?" she repeated, and burst into strange laughter. "Who? +Whose? Ours? We're greeners, we are, we have no friends. What friends +should he have, poor, miserable wretch?" + +"I don't know," I said, "but that is what he told me." + +"All right!" said Manasseh's wife. "I'll teach him a lesson he won't +forget in a hurry." + +With these words she departed. + +When she had left the room, I pictured to myself poor consumptive +Manasseh being taught a "lesson" by his yellow-haired wife, and I pitied +him. + +Manasseh was a man of about thirty. His yellowish-white face was set in +a black beard; he was very thin, always ailing and coughing, had never +learnt to write, and he read only Yiddish--a quiet, respectable man, I +might almost say the only hand in the shop who never grudged a +fellow-worker his livelihood. He had been only a year in the country, +and the others made sport of him, but I always stood up for him, because +I liked him very much. + +Wherever does he go, now? I wondered to myself, and I resolved to find +out. + +Next morning I met Manasseh as usual, and at first I intended to tell +him of his wife's visit to me the day before; but the poor operative +looked so low-spirited, so thoroughly unhappy, that I felt sure his wife +had already given him the promised "lesson," and I hadn't the courage to +mention her to him just then. + +In the evening, as we were going home from the workshop, Manasseh said +to me: + +"Did my wife come to see you yesterday?" + +"Yes, Brother Manasseh," I answered. "She seemed something annoyed with +you." + +"She has a dreadful temper," observed the workman. "When she is really +angry, she's fit to kill a man. But it's her bitter heart, poor +thing--she's had so many troubles! We're so poor, and she's far away +from her family." + +Manasseh gave a deep sigh. + +"She asked you where I go other days after work?" he continued. + +"Yes." + +"Would you like to know?" + +"Why not, Mister Gricklin!" + +"Come along a few blocks further," said Manasseh, "and I'll show you." + +"Come along!" I agreed, and we walked on together. + +A few more blocks and Manasseh led me into a narrow street, not yet +entirely built in with houses. + +Presently he stopped, with a contented smile. I looked round in some +astonishment. We were standing alongside a piece of waste ground, with a +meagre fencing of stones and burnt wire, and utilized as a garden. + +"Just look," said the workman, pointing at the garden, "how delightful +it is! One so seldom sees anything of the kind in New York." + +Manasseh went nearer to the fence, and his eyes wandered thirstily over +the green, flowering plants, just then in full beauty. I also looked at +the garden. The things that grew there were unknown to me, and I was +ignorant of their names. Only one thing had a familiar look--a few tall, +graceful "moons" were scattered here and there over the place, and stood +like absent-minded dreamers, or beautiful sentinels. And the roses were +in bloom, and their fragrance came in wafts over the fencing. + +"You see the 'moons'?" asked Manasseh, in rapt tones, but more to +himself than to me. "Look how beautiful they are! I can't take my eyes +off them. I am capable of standing and looking at them for hours. They +make me feel happy, almost as if I were at home again. There were a lot +of them at home!" + +The operative sighed, lost himself a moment in thought, and then said: + +"When I smell the roses, I think of old days. We had quite a large +garden, and I was so fond of it! When the flowers began to come out, I +used to sit there for hours, and could never look at it enough. The +roses appeared to be dreaming with their great golden eyes wide open. +The cucumbers lay along the ground like pussy-cats, and the stalks and +leaves spread ever so far across the beds. The beans fought for room +like street urchins, and the pumpkins and the potatoes--you should have +seen them! And the flowers were all colors--pink and blue and yellow, +and I felt as if everything were alive, as if the whole garden were +alive--I fancied I heard them talking together, the roses, the potatoes, +the beans. I spent whole evenings in my garden. It was dear to me as my +own soul. Look, look, look, don't the roses seem as if they were alive?" + +But I looked at Manasseh, and thought the consumptive workman had grown +younger and healthier. His face was less livid, and his eyes shone with +happiness. + +"Do you know," said Manasseh to me, as we walked away from the garden, +"I had some cuttings of rose-trees at home, in a basket out on the +fire-escape, and they had begun to bud." + +There was a pause. + +"Well," I inquired, "and what happened?" + +"My wife laid out the mattress to air on the top of the basket, and they +were all crushed." + +Manasseh made an outward gesture with his hand, and I asked no more +questions. + +The poky, stuffy shop in which he worked came into my mind, and my heart +was sore for him. + + + + +YOHRZEIT FOR MOTHER + + +The Ginzburgs' first child died of inflammation of the lungs when it was +two years and three months old. + +The young couple were in the depths of grief and despair--they even +thought seriously of committing suicide. + +But people do not do everything they think of doing. Neither Ginzburg +nor his wife had the courage to throw themselves into the cold and +grizzly arms of death. They only despaired, until, some time after, a +newborn child bound them once more to life. + +It was a little girl, and they named her Dvoreh, after Ginzburg's dead +mother. + +The Ginzburgs were both free-thinkers in the full sense of the word, and +their naming the child after the dead had no superstitious significance +whatever. + +It came about quite simply. + +"Dobinyu," Ginzburg had asked his wife, "how shall we call our +daughter?" + +"I don't know," replied the young mother. + +"No more do I," said Ginzburg. + +"Let us call her Dvorehle," suggested Dobe, automatically, gazing at her +pretty baby, and very little concerned about its name. + +Had Ginzburg any objection to make? None at all, and the child's name +was Dvorehle henceforward. When the first child had lived to be a year +old, the parents had made a feast-day, and invited guests to celebrate +their first-born's first birthday with them. + +With the second child it was not so. + +The Ginzburgs loved their Dvorehle, loved her painfully, infinitely, but +when it came to the anniversary of her birth they made no rejoicings. + +I do not think I shall be going too far if I say they did not dare to do +so. + +Dvorehle was an uncommon child: a bright girlie, sweet-tempered, pretty, +and clever, the light of the house, shining into its every corner. She +could be a whole world of delight to her parents, this wee Dvorehle. But +it was not the delight, not the happiness they had known with the first +child, not the same. _That_ had been so free, so careless. Now it was +different: terrible pictures of death, of a child's death, would rise up +in the midst of their joy, and their gladness suddenly ended in a heavy +sigh. They would be at the height of enchantment, kissing and hugging +the child and laughing aloud, they would be singing to it and romping +with it, everything else would be forgotten. Then, without wishing to do +so, they would suddenly remember that not so long ago it was another +child, also a girl, that went off into just the same silvery little +bursts of laughter--and now, where is it?--dead! O how it goes through +the heart! The parents turn pale in the midst of their merrymaking, the +mother's eyes fill with tears, and the father's head droops. + +"Who knows?" sighs Dobe, looking at their little laughing Dvorehle. "Who +knows?" + +Ginzburg understands the meaning of her question and is silent, because +he is afraid to say anything in reply. + +It seems to me that parents who have buried their first-born can never +be really happy again. + +So Dvorehle's first birthday was allowed to pass as it were unnoticed. +When it came to her second, it was nearly the same thing, only Dobe +said, "Ginzburg, when our daughter is three years old, then we will have +great rejoicings!" + +They waited for the day with trembling hearts. Their child's third year +was full of terror for them, because their eldest-born had died in her +third year, and they felt as though it must be the most dangerous one +for their second child. + +A dreadful conviction began to haunt them both, only they were afraid to +confess it one to the other. This conviction, this fixed idea of theirs, +was that when Dvorehle reached the age of their eldest child when it +died, Death would once more call their household to mind. + +Dvorehle grew to be two years and eight months old. O it was a terrible +time! And--and the child fell ill, with inflammation of the lungs, just +like the other one. + +O pictures that arose and stood before the parents! O terror, O +calamity! They were free-thinkers, the Ginzburgs, and if any one had +told them that they were not free from what they called superstition, +that the belief in a Higher Power beyond our understanding still had a +root in their being, if you had spoken thus to Ginzburg or to his wife, +they would have laughed at you, both of them, out of the depths of a +full heart and with laughter more serious than many another's words. But +what happened now is wonderful to tell. + +Dobe, sitting by the sick child's cot, began to speak, gravely, and as +in a dream: + +"Who knows? Who knows? Perhaps? Perhaps?" She did not conclude. + +"Perhaps what?" asked Ginzburg, impatiently. + +"Why should it come like this?" Dobe went on. "The same time, the same +sickness?" + +"A simple blind coincidence of circumstances," replied her husband. + +"But so exactly--one like the other, as if somebody had made it happen +on purpose." + +Ginzburg understood his wife's meaning, and answered short and sharp: + +"Dobe, don't talk nonsense." + +Meanwhile Dvorehle's illness developed, and the day came on which the +doctor said that a crisis would occur within twenty-four hours. What +this meant to the Ginzburgs would be difficult to describe, but each of +them determined privately not to survive the loss of their second child. + +They sat beside it, not lifting their eyes from its face. They were pale +and dazed with grief and sleepless nights, their hearts half-dead within +them, they shed no tears, they were so much more dead than alive +themselves, and the child's flame of life flickered and dwindled, +flickered and dwindled. + +A tangle of memories was stirring in Ginzburg's head, all relating to +deaths and graves. He lived through the death of their first child with +all details--his father's death, his mother's--early in a summer +morning--that was--that was--he recalls it--as though it were to-day. + +"What is to-day?" he wonders. "What day of the month is it?" And then he +remembers, it is the first of May. + +"The same day," he murmurs, as if he were talking in his sleep. + +"What the same day?" asks Dobe. + +"Nothing," says Ginzburg. "I was thinking of something." + +He went on thinking, and fell into a doze where he sat. + +He saw his mother enter the room with a soft step, take a chair, and sit +down by the sick child. + +"Mother, save it!" he begs her, his heart is full to bursting, and he +begins to cry. + +"Isrolik," says his mother, "I have brought a remedy for the child that +bears my name." + +"Mame!!!" + +He is about to throw himself upon her neck and kiss her, but she motions +him lightly aside. + +"Why do you never light a candle for my Yohrzeit?" she inquires, and +looks at him reproachfully. + +"Mame, have pity on us, save the child!" + +"The child will live, only you must light me a candle." + +"Mame" (he sobs louder), "have pity!" + +"Light my candle--make haste, make haste--" + +"Ginzburg!" a shriek from his wife, and he awoke with a start. + +"Ginzburg, the child is dying! Fly for the doctor." + +Ginzburg cast a look at the child, a chill went through him, he ran to +the door. + +The doctor came in person. + +"Our child is dying! Help save it!" wailed the unhappy mother, and he, +Ginzburg, stood and shivered as with cold. + +The doctor scrutinized the child, and said: + +"The crisis is coming on." There was something dreadful in the quiet of +his tone. + +"What can be done?" and the Ginzburgs wrung their hands. + +"Hush! Nothing! Bring some hot water, bottles of hot +water!--Champagne!--Where is the medicine? Quick!" commanded the doctor. + +Everything was to hand and ready in an instant. + +The doctor began to busy himself with the child, the parents stood by +pale as death. + +"Well," asked Dobe, "what?" + +"We shall soon know," said the doctor. + +Ginzburg looked round, glided like a shadow into a corner of the room, +and lit the little lamp that stood there. + +"What is that for?" asked Dobe, in a fright. + +"Nothing, Yohrzeit--my mother's," he answered in a strange voice, and +his hands never ceased trembling. + +"Your child will live," said the doctor, and father and mother fell upon +the child's bed with their faces, and wept. + +The flame in the lamp burnt brighter and brighter. + + + + +SLACK TIMES THEY SLEEP + + +Despite the fact of the winter nights being long and dark as the Jewish +exile, the Breklins go to bed at dusk. + +But you may as well know that when it is dusk outside in the street, the +Breklins are already "way on" in the night, because they live in a +basement, separated from the rest of the world by an air-shaft, and when +the sun gathers his beams round him before setting, the first to be +summoned are those down the Breklins' shaft, because of the time +required for them to struggle out again. + +The same thing in the morning, only reversed. People don't usually get +up, if they can help it, before it is really light, and so it comes to +pass that when other people have left their beds, and are going about +their business, the Breklins are still asleep and making the long, long +night longer yet. + +If you ask me, "How is it they don't wear their sides out with lying in +bed?" I shall reply: They _do_ rise with aching sides, and if you say, +"How can people be so lazy?" I can tell you, They don't do it out of +laziness, and they lie awake a great part of the time. + +What's the good of lying in bed if one isn't asleep? + +There you have it in a nutshell--it's a question of the economic +conditions. The Breklins are very poor, their life is a never-ending +struggle with poverty, and they have come to the conclusion that the +cheapest way of waging it, and especially in winter, is to lie in bed +under a great heap of old clothes and rags of every description. + +Breklin is a house-painter, and from Christmas to Purim (I beg to +distinguish!) work is dreadfully slack. When you're not earning a +crooked penny, what are you to do? + +In the first place, you must live on "cash," that is, on the few dollars +scraped together and put by during the "season," and in the second +place, you must cut down your domestic expenses, otherwise the money +won't hold out, and then you might as well keep your teeth in a drawer. + +But you may neither eat nor drink, nor live at all to mention--if it's +winter, the money goes all the same: it's bitterly cold, and you can't +do without the stove, and the nights are long, and you want a lamp. + +And the Breklins saw that their money would _not_ hold out till +Purim--that their Fast of Esther would be too long. Coal was beyond +them, and kerosene as dear as wine, and yet how could they possibly +spend less? How could they do without a fire when it was so cold? +Without a lamp when it was so dark? And the Breklins had an "idea"! + +Why sit up at night and watch the stove and the lamp burning away their +money, when they might get into bed, bury themselves in rags, and defy +both poverty and cold? There is nothing in particular to do, anyhow. +What should there be, a long winter evening through? Nothing! They only +sat and poured out the bitterness in their heart one upon the other, +quarrelled, and scolded. They could do that in bed just as well, and +save firing and light into the bargain. + +So, at the first approach of darkness, the bed was made ready for Mr. +Breklin, and his wife put to sleep their only, three-year-old child. +Avremele did not understand why he was put to bed so early, but he asked +no questions. The room began to feel cold, and the poor little thing was +glad to nestle deep into the bedcoverings. + +The lamp and the fire were extinguished, the stove would soon go out of +itself, and the Breklin family slept. + +They slept, and fought against poverty by lying in bed. + +It was waging cheap warfare. + + * * * * * + +Having had his first sleep out, Breklin turns to his wife: + +"What do you suppose the time to be now, Yudith?" + +Yudith listens attentively. + +"It must be past eight o'clock," she says. + +"What makes you think so?" asks Breklin. + +"Don't you hear the clatter of knives and forks? Well-to-do folk are +having supper." + +"We also used to have supper about this time, in the Tsisin," said +Breklin, and he gave a deep sigh of longing. + +"We shall soon forget the good times altogether," says Yudith, and +husband and wife set sail once more for the land of dreams. + +A few hours later Breklin wakes with a groan. + +"What is the matter?" inquires Yudith. + +"My sides ache with lying." + +"Mine, too," says Yudith, and they both begin yawning. + +"What o'clock would it be now?" wonders Breklin, and Yudith listens +again. + +"About ten o'clock," she tells him. + +"No later? I don't believe it. It must be a great deal later than that." + +"Well, listen for yourself," persists Yudith, "and you'll hear the +housekeeper upstairs scolding somebody. She's putting out the gas in the +hall." + +"Oi, weh is mir! How the night drags!" sighs Breklin, and turns over +onto his other side. + +Yudith goes on talking, but as much to herself as to him: + +"Upstairs they are still all alive, and we are asleep in bed." + +"Weh is mir, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin over and over, and once more +there is silence. + +The night wears on. + +"Are you asleep?" asks Breklin, suddenly. + +"I wish I were! Who could sleep through such a long night? I'm lying +awake and racking my brains." + +"What over?" asks Breklin, interested. + +"I'm trying to think," explains Yudith, "what we can have for dinner +to-morrow that will cost nothing, and yet be satisfying." + +"Oi, weh is mir!" sighs Breklin again, and is at a loss what to advise. + +"I wonder" (this time it is Yudith) "what o'clock it is now!" + +"It will soon be morning," is Breklin's opinion. + +"Morning? Nonsense!" Yudith knows better. + +"It must be morning soon!" He holds to it. + +"You are very anxious for the morning," says Yudith, good-naturedly, +"and so you think it will soon be here, and I tell you, it's not +midnight yet." + +"What are you talking about? You don't know what you're saying! I shall +go out of my mind." + +"You know," says Yudith, "that Avremele always wakes at midnight and +cries, and he's still fast asleep." + +"No, Mame," comes from under Avremele's heap of rags. + +"Come to me, my beauty! So he was awake after all!" and Yudith reaches +out her arms for the child. + +"Perhaps he's cold," says Breklin. + +"Are you cold, sonny?" asks Yudith. + +"Cold, Mame!" replies Avremele. + +Yudith wraps the coverlets closer and closer round him, and presses him +to her side. + +And the night wears on. + +"O my sides!" groans Breklin. + +"Mine, too!" moans Yudith, and they start another conversation. + +One time they discuss their neighbors; another time the Breklins try to +calculate how long it is since they married, how much they spend a week +on an average, and what was the cost of Yudith's confinement. + +It is seldom they calculate anything right, but talking helps to while +away time, till the basement begins to lighten, whereupon the Breklins +jump out of bed, as though it were some perilous hiding-place, and set +to work in a great hurry to kindle the stove. + + + + +ABRAHAM RAISIN + + +Born, 1876, in Kaidanov, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White Russia; +traditional Jewish education; self-taught in Russian language; teacher +at fifteen, first in Kaidanov, then in Minsk; first poem published in +Perez's Juedische Bibliothek, in 1891; served in the army, in Kovno, for +four years; went to Warsaw in 1900, and to New York in 1911; Yiddish +lyric poet and novelist; occasionally writes Hebrew; contributor to +Spektor's Hausfreund, New York Abendpost, and New York Arbeiterzeitung; +co-editor of Das zwanzigste Jahrhundert; in 1903, published and edited, +in Cracow, Das juedische Wort, first to urge the claim of Yiddish as the +national Jewish language; publisher and editor, since 1911, of Dos neie +Land, in New York; collected works (poems and tales), 4 vols., Warsaw, +1908-1912. + + + + +SHUT IN + + +Lebele is a little boy ten years old, with pale cheeks, liquid, dreamy +eyes, and black hair that falls in twisted ringlets, but, of course, the +ringlets are only seen when his hat falls off, for Lebele is a pious +little boy, who never uncovers his head. + +There are things that Lebele loves and never has, or else he has them +only in part, and that is why his eyes are always dreamy and troubled, +and always full of longing. + +He loves the summer, and sits the whole day in Cheder. He loves the sun, +and the Rebbe hangs his caftan across the window, and the Cheder is +darkened, so that it oppresses the soul. Lebele loves the moon, the +night, but at home they close the shutters, and Lebele, on his little +bed, feels as if he were buried alive. And Lebele cannot understand +people's behaving so oddly. + +It seems to him that when the sun shines in at the window, it is a +delight, it is so pleasant and cheerful, and the Rebbe goes and curtains +it--no more sun! If Lebele dared, he would ask: + +"What ails you, Rebbe, at the sun? What harm can it do you?" + +But Lebele will never put that question: the Rebbe is such a great and +learned man, he must know best. Ai, how dare he, Lebele, disapprove? He +is only a little boy. When he is grown up, he will doubtless curtain the +window himself. But as things are now, Lebele is not happy, and feels +sadly perplexed at the behavior of his elders. + +Late in the evening, he comes home from Cheder. The sun has already set, +the street is cheerful and merry, the cockchafers whizz and, flying, hit +him on the nose, the ear, the forehead. + +He would like to play about a bit in the street, let them have supper +without him, but he is afraid of his father. His father is a kind man +when he talks to strangers, he is so gentle, so considerate, so +confidential. But to him, to Lebele, he is very unkind, always shouting +at him, and if Lebele comes from Cheder a few minutes late, he will be +angry. + +"Where have you been, my fine fellow? Have you business anywhere?" + +Now go and tell him that it is not at all so bad out in the street, that +it's a pleasure to hear how the cockchafers whirr, that even the hits +they give you on the wing are friendly, and mean, "Hallo, old fellow!" +Of course it's a wild absurdity! It amuses him, because he is only a +little boy, while his father is a great man, who trades in wood and +corn, and who always knows the current prices--when a thing is dearer +and when it is cheaper. His father can speak the Gentile language, and +drive bargains, his father understands the Prussian weights. Is that a +man to be thought lightly of? Go and tell him, if you dare, that it's +delightful now out in the street. + +And Lebele hurries straight home. When he has reached it, his father +asks him how many chapters he has mastered, and if he answers five, his +father hums a tune without looking at him; but if he says only three, +his father is angry, and asks: + +"How's that? Why so little, ha?" + +And Lebele is silent, and feels guilty before his father. + +After that his father makes him translate a Hebrew word. + +"Translate _Kimlunah_!" + +"_Kimlunah_ means 'like a passing the night,'" answers Lebele, +terrified. + +His father is silent--a sign that he is satisfied--and they sit down to +supper. Lebele's father keeps an eye on him the whole time, and +instructs him how to eat. + +"Is that how you hold your spoon?" inquires the father, and Lebele holds +the spoon lower, and the food sticks in his throat. + +After supper Lebele has to say grace aloud and in correct Hebrew, +according to custom. If he mumbles a word, his father calls out: + +"What did I hear? what? once more, 'Wherewith Thou dost feed and sustain +us.' Well, come, say it! Don't be in a hurry, it won't burn you!" + +And Lebele says it over again, although he _is_ in a great hurry, +although he longs to run out into the street, and the words _do_ seem to +burn him. + +When it is dark, he repeats the Evening Prayer by lamplight; his father +is always catching him making a mistake, and Lebele has to keep all his +wits about him. The moon, round and shining, is already floating through +the sky, and Lebele repeats the prayers, and looks at her, and longs +after the street, and he gets confused in his praying. + +Prayers over, he escapes out of the house, puzzling over some question +in the Talmud against the morrow's lesson. He delays there a while +gazing at the moon, as she pours her pale beams onto the Gass. But he +soon hears his father's voice: + +"Come indoors, to bed!" + +It is warm outside, there is not a breath of air stirring, and yet it +seems to Lebele as though a wind came along with his father's words, and +he grows cold, and he goes in like one chilled to the bone, takes his +stand by the window, and stares at the moon. + +"It is time to close the shutters--there's nothing to sit up for!" +Lebele hears his father say, and his heart sinks. His father goes out, +and Lebele sees the shutters swing to, resist, as though they were being +closed against their will, and presently there is a loud bang. No more +moon!--his father has hidden it! + +A while after, the lamp has been put out, the room is dark, and all are +asleep but Lebele, whose bed is by the window. He cannot sleep, he wants +to be in the street, whence sounds come in through the chinks. He tries +to sit up in bed, to peer out, also through the chinks, and even to open +a bit of the shutter, without making any noise, and to look, look, but +without success, for just then his father wakes and calls out: + +"What are you after there, eh? Do you want me to come with the strap?" + +And Lebele nestles quietly down again into his pillow, pulls the +coverlet over his head, and feels as though he were buried alive. + + + + +THE CHARITABLE LOAN + + +The largest fair in Klemenke is "Ulas." The little town waits for Ulas +with a beating heart and extravagant hopes. "Ulas," say the Klemenke +shopkeepers and traders, "is a Heavenly blessing; were it not for Ulas, +Klemenke would long ago have been 'aeus Klemenke,' America would have +taken its last few remaining Jews to herself." + +But for Ulas one must have the wherewithal--the shopkeepers need wares, +and the traders, money. + +Without the wherewithal, even Ulas is no good! And Chayyim, the dealer +in produce, goes about gloomily. There are only three days left before +Ulas, and he hasn't a penny wherewith to buy corn to trade with. And the +other dealers in produce circulate in the market-place with caps awry, +with thickly-rolled cigarettes in their mouths and walking-sticks in +their hands, and they are talking hard about the fair. + +"In three days it will be lively!" calls out one. + +"Pshshsh," cries another in ecstasy, "in three days' time the place will +be packed!" + +And Chayyim turns pale. He would like to call down a calamity on the +fair, he wishes it might rain, snow, or storm on that day, so that not +even a mad dog should come to the market-place; only Chayyim knows that +Ulas is no weakling, Ulas is not afraid of the strongest wind--Ulas is +Ulas! + +And Chayyim's eyes are ready to start out of his head. A charitable +loan--where is one to get a charitable loan? If only five and twenty +rubles! + +He asks it of everyone, but they only answer with a merry laugh: + +"Are you mad? Money--just before a fair?" + +And it seems to Chayyim that he really will go mad. + +"Suppose you went across to Loibe-Baeres?" suggests his wife, who takes +her full share in his distress. + +"I had thought of that myself," answers Chayyim, meditatively. + +"But what?" asks the wife. + +Chayyim is about to reply, "But I can't go there, I haven't the +courage," only that it doesn't suit him to be so frank with his wife, +and he answers: + +"Devil take him! He won't lend anything!" + +"Try! It won't hurt," she persists. + +And Chayyim reflects that he has no other resource, that Loibe-Baeres is +a rich man, and living in the same street, a neighbor in fact, and that +_he_ requires no money for the fair, being a dealer in lumber and +timber. + +"Give me out my Sabbath overcoat!" says Chayyim to his wife, in a +resolute tone. + +"Didn't I say so?" the wife answers. "It's the best thing you can do, to +go to him." + +Chayyim placed himself before a half-broken looking-glass which was +nailed to the wall, smoothed his beard with both hands, tightened his +earlocks, and then took off his hat, and gave it a polish with his +sleeve. + +"Just look and see if I haven't got any white on my coat off the wall!" + +"If you haven't?" the wife answered, and began slapping him with both +hands over the shoulders. + +"I thought we once had a little clothes-brush. Where is it? ha?" + +"Perhaps you dreamt it," replied his wife, still slapping him on the +shoulders, and she went on, "Well, I should say you had got some white +on your coat!" + +"Come, that'll do!" said Chayyim, almost angrily. "I'll go now." + +He drew on his Sabbath overcoat with a sigh, and muttering, "Very +likely, isn't it, he'll lend me money!" he went out. + +On the way to Loibe-Baeres, Chayyim's heart began to fail him. Since the +day that Loibe-Baeres came to live at the end of the street, Chayyim had +been in the house only twice, and the path Chayyim was treading now was +as bad as an examination: the "approach" to him, the light rooms, the +great mirrors, the soft chairs, Loibe-Baeres himself with his long, thick +beard and his black eyes with their "gevirish" glance, the lady, the +merry, happy children, even the maid, who had remained in his memory +since those two visits--all these things together terrified him, and he +asked himself, "Where are you going to? Are you mad? Home with you at +once!" and every now and then he would stop short on the way. Only the +thought that Ulas was near, and that he had no money to buy corn, drove +him to continue. + +"He won't lend anything--it's no use hoping." Chayyim was preparing +himself as he walked for the shock of disappointment; but he felt that +if he gave way to that extent, he would never be able to open his mouth +to make his request known, and he tried to cheer himself: + +"If I catch him in a good humor, he will lend! Why should he be afraid +of lending me a few rubles over the fair? I shall tell him that as soon +as ever I have sold the corn, he shall have the loan back. I will swear +it by wife and children, he will believe me--and I will pay it back." + +But this does not make Chayyim any the bolder, and he tries another sort +of comfort, another remedy against nervousness. + +"He isn't a bad man--and, after all, our acquaintance won't date from +to-day--we've been living in the same street twenty years--Parabotzker +Street--" + +And Chayyim recollects that a fortnight ago, as Loibe-Baeres was passing +his house on his way to the market-place, and he, Chayyim, was standing +in the yard, he gave him the greeting due to a gentleman ("and I could +swear I gave him my hand," Chayyim reminded himself). Loibe-Baeres had +made a friendly reply, he had even stopped and asked, like an old +acquaintance, "Well, Chayyim, and how are you getting on?" And Chayyim +strains his memory and remembers further that he answered on this wise: + +"I thank you for asking! Heaven forgive me, one does a little bit of +business!" + +And Chayyim is satisfied with his reply, "I answered him quite at my +ease." + +Chayyim resolves to speak to him this time even more leisurely and +independently, not to cringe before him. + +Chayyim could already see Loibe-Baeres' house in the distance. He coughed +till his throat was clear, stroked his beard down, and looked at his +coat. + +"Still a very good coat!" he said aloud, as though trying to persuade +himself that the coat was still good, so that he might feel more courage +and more proper pride. + +But when he got to Loibe-Baeres' big house, when the eight large windows +looking onto the street flashed into his eyes, the windows being +brightly illuminated from within, his heart gave a flutter. + +"Oi, Lord of the World, help!" came of its own accord to his lips. Then +he felt ashamed, and caught himself up, "Ett, nonsense!" + +As he pushed the door open, the "prayer" escaped him once more, "Help, +mighty God! or it will be the death of me!" + + * * * * * + +Loibe-Baeres was seated at a large table covered with a clean white +table-cloth, and drinking while he talked cheerfully with his household. + +"There's a Jew come, Tate!" called out a boy of twelve, on seeing +Chayyim standing by the door. + +"So there is!" called out a second little boy, still more merrily, +fixing Chayyim with his large, black, mischievous eyes. + +All the rest of those at table began looking at Chayyim, and he thought +every moment that he must fall of a heap onto the floor. + +"It will look very bad if I fall," he said to himself, made a step +forward, and, without saying good evening, stammered out: + +"I just happened to be passing, you understand, and I saw you +sitting--so I knew you were at home--well, I thought one ought to +call--neighbors--" + +"Well, welcome, welcome!" said Loibe-Baeres, smiling. "You've come at the +right moment. Sit down." + +A stone rolled off Chayyim's heart at this reply, and, with a glance at +the two little boys, he quietly took a seat. + +"Leah, give Reb Chayyim a glass of tea," commanded Loibe-Baeres. + +"Quite a kind man!" thought Chayyim. "May the Almighty come to his aid!" + +He gave his host a grateful look, and would gladly have fallen onto the +Gevir's thick neck, and kissed him. + +"Well, and what are you about?" inquired his host. + +"Thanks be to God, one lives!" + +The maid handed him a glass of tea. He said, "Thank you," and then was +sorry: it is not the proper thing to thank a servant. He grew red and +bit his lips. + +"Have some jelly with it!" Loibe-Baeres suggested. + +"An excellent man, an excellent man!" thought Chayyim, astonished. "He +is sure to lend." + +"You deal in something?" asked Loibe-Baeres. + +"Why, yes," answered Chayyim. "One's little bit of business, thank +Heaven, is no worse than other people's!" + +"What price are oats fetching now?" it occurred to the Gevir to ask. + +Oats had fallen of late, but it seemed better to Chayyim to say that +they had risen. + +"They have risen very much!" he declared in a mercantile tone of voice. + +"Well, and have you some oats ready?" inquired the Gevir further. + +"I've got a nice lot of oats, and they didn't cost me much, either. I +got them quite cheap," replied Chayyim, with more warmth, forgetting, +while he spoke, that he hadn't had an ear of oats in his granary for +weeks. + +"And you are thinking of doing a little speculating?" asked Loibe-Baeres. +"Are you not in need of any money?" + +"Thanks be to God," replied Chayyim, proudly, "I have never yet been in +need of money." + +"Why did I say that?" he thought then, in terror at his own words. "How +am I going to ask for a loan now?" and Chayyim wanted to back the cart a +little, only Loibe-Baeres prevented him by saying: + +"So I understand you make a good thing of it, you are quite a wealthy +man." + +"My wealth be to my enemies!" Chayyim wanted to draw back, but after a +glance at Loibe-Baeres' shining face, at the blue jar with the jelly, he +answered proudly: + +"Thank Heaven, I have nothing to complain of!" + +"There goes your charitable loan!" The thought came like a kick in the +back of his head. "Why are you boasting like that? Tell him you want +twenty-five rubles for Ulas--that he must save you, that you are in +despair, that--" + +But Chayyim fell deeper and deeper into a contented and happy way of +talking, praised his business more and more, and conversed with the +Gevir as with an equal. + +But he soon began to feel he was one too many, that he should not have +sat there so long, or have talked in that way. It would have been better +to have talked about the fair, about a loan. Now it is too late: + +"I have no need of money!" and Chayyim gave a despairing look at +Loibe-Baeres' cheerful face, at the two little boys who sat opposite and +watched him with sly, mischievous eyes, and who whispered knowingly to +each other, and then smiled more knowingly still! + +A cold perspiration covered him. He rose from his chair. + +"You are going already?" observed Loibe-Baeres, politely. + +"Now perhaps I could ask him!" It flashed across Chayyim's mind that he +might yet save himself, but, stealing a glance at the two boys with the +roguish eyes that watched him so slyly, he replied with dignity: + +"I must! Business! There is no time!" and it seems to him, as he goes +toward the door, that the two little boys with the mischievous eyes are +putting out their tongues after him, and that Loibe-Baeres himself smiles +and says, "Stick your tongues out further, further still!" + +Chayyim's shoulders seem to burn, and he makes haste to get out of the +house. + + + + +THE TWO BROTHERS + + +It is three months since Yainkele and Berele--two brothers, the first +fourteen years old, the second sixteen--have been at the college that +stands in the town of X--, five German miles from their birthplace +Dalissovke, after which they are called the "Dalissovkers." + +Yainkele is a slight, pale boy, with black eyes that peep slyly from +beneath the two black eyebrows. Berele is taller and stouter than +Yainkele, his eyes are lighter, and his glance is more defiant, as +though he would say, "Let me alone, I shall laugh at you all yet!" + +The two brothers lodged with a poor relation, a widow, a dealer in +second-hand goods, who never came home till late at night. The two +brothers had no bed, but a chest, which was broad enough, served +instead, and the brothers slept sweetly on it, covered with their own +torn clothes; and in their dreams they saw their native place, the +little street, their home, their father with his long beard and dim eyes +and bent back, and their mother with her long, pale, melancholy face, +and they heard the little brothers and sisters quarrelling, as they +fought over a bit of herring, and they dreamt other dreams of home, and +early in the morning they were homesick, and then they used to run to +the Dalissovke Inn, and ask the carrier if there were a letter for them +from home. + +The Dalissovke carriers were good Jews with soft hearts, and they were +sorry for the two poor boys, who were so anxious for news from home, +whose eyes burned, and whose hearts beat so fast, so loud, but the +carriers were very busy; they came charged with a thousand messages from +the Dalissovke shopkeepers and traders, and they carried more letters +than the post, but with infinitely less method. Letters were lost, and +parcels were heard of no more, and the distracted carriers scratched the +nape of their neck, and replied to every question: + +"Directly, directly, I shall find it directly--no, I don't seem to have +anything for you--" + +That is how they answered the grown people who came to them; but our two +little brothers stood and looked at Lezer the carrier--a man in a wadded +caftan, summer and winter--with thirsty eyes and aching hearts; stood +and waited, hoping he would notice them and say something, if only one +word. But Lezer was always busy: now he had gone into the yard to feed +the horse, now he had run into the inn, and entered into a conversation +with the clerk of a great store, who had brought a list of goods wanted +from a shop in Dalissovke. + +And the brothers used to stand and stand, till the elder one, Berele, +lost patience. Biting his lips, and all but crying with vexation, he +would just articulate: "Reb Lezer, is there a letter from father?" + +But Reb Lezer would either suddenly cease to exist, run out into the +street with somebody or other, or be absorbed in a conversation, and +Berele hardly expected the answer which Reb Lezer would give over his +shoulder: + +"There isn't one--there isn't one." + +"There isn't one!" Berele would say with a deep sigh, and sadly call to +Yainkele to come away. Mournfully, and with a broken spirit, they went +to where the day's meal awaited them. + +"I am sure he loses the letters!" Yainkele would say a few minutes +later, as they walked along. + +"He is a bad man!" Berele would mutter with vexation. + +But one day Lezer handed them a letter and a small parcel. + +The letter ran thus: + + "Dear Children, + + Be good, boys, and learn with diligence. We send you herewith half + a cheese and a quarter of a pound of sugar, and a little + berry-juice in a bottle. + + Eat it in health, and do not quarrel over it. + + From me, your father, + + CHAYYIM HECHT." + +That day Lezer the carrier was the best man in the world in their eyes, +they would not have been ashamed to eat him up with horse and cart for +very love. They wrote an answer at once--for letter-paper they used to +tear out, with fluttering hearts, the first, imprinted pages in the +Gemoreh--and gave it that evening to Lezer the carrier. Lezer took it +coldly, pushed it into the breast of his coat, and muttered something +like "All right!" + +"What did he say, Berele?" asked Yainkele, anxiously. + +"I think he said 'all right,'" Berele answered doubtfully. + +"I think he said so, too," Yainkele persuaded himself. Then he gave a +sigh, and added fearfully: + +"He may lose the letter!" + +"Bite your tongue out!" answered Berele, angrily, and they went sadly +away to supper. + +And three times a week, early in the morning, when Lezer the carrier +came driving, the two brothers flew, not ran, to the Dalissovke Inn, to +ask for an answer to their letter; and Lezer the carrier grew more +preoccupied and cross, and answered either with mumbled words, which the +brothers could not understand, and dared not ask him to repeat, or else +not at all, so that they went away with heavy hearts. But one day they +heard Lezer the carrier speak distinctly, so that they understood quite +well: + +"What are you doing here, you two? What do you come plaguing me for? +Letter? Fiddlesticks! How much do you pay me? Am I a postman? Eh? Be off +with you, and don't worry." + +The brothers obeyed, but only in part: their hearts were like lead, +their thin little legs shook, and tears fell from their eyes onto the +ground. And they went no more to Lezer the carrier to ask for a letter. + +"I wish he were dead and buried!" they exclaimed, but they did not mean +it, and they longed all the time just to go and look at Lezer the +carrier, his horse and cart. After all, they came from Dalissovke, and +the two brothers loved them. + + * * * * * + +One day, two or three weeks after the carrier sent them about their +business in the way described, the two brothers were sitting in the +house of the poor relation and talking about home. It was summer-time, +and a Friday afternoon. + +"I wonder what father is doing now," said Yainkele, staring at the small +panes in the small window. + +"He must be cutting his nails," answered Berele, with a melancholy +smile. + +"He must be chopping up lambs' feet," imagined Yainkele, "and Mother is +combing Chainele, and Chainele is crying." + +"Now we've talked nonsense enough!" decided Berele. "How can we know +what is going on there?" + +"Perhaps somebody's dead!" added Yainkele, in sudden terror. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said Berele. "When people die, they let one +know--" + +"Perhaps they wrote, and the carrier won't give us the letter--" + +"Ai, that's chatter enough!" Berele was quite cross. "Shut up, donkey! +You make me laugh," he went on, to reassure Yainkele, "they are all +alive and well." + +Yainkele became cheerful again, and all at once he gave a bound into the +air, and exclaimed with eager eyes: + +"Berele, do what I say! Let's write by the post!" + +"Right you are!" agreed Berele. "Only I've no money." + +"I have four kopeks; they are over from the ten I got last night. You +know, at my 'Thursday' they give me ten kopeks for supper, and I have +four over. + +"And I have one kopek," said Berele, "just enough for a post-card." + +"But which of us will write it?" asked Yainkele. + +"I," answered Berele, "I am the eldest, I'm a first-born son." + +"But I gave four kopeks!" + +"A first-born is worth more than four kopeks." + +"No! I'll write half, and you'll write half, ha?" + +"Very well. Come and buy a card." + +And the two brothers ran to buy a card at the postoffice. + +"There will be no room for anything!" complained Yainkele, on the way +home, as he contemplated the small post-card. "We will make little tiny +letters, teeny weeny ones!" advised Berele. + +"Father won't be able to read them!" + +"Never mind! He will put on his spectacles. Come along--quicker!" urged +Yainkele. His heart was already full of words, like a sea, and he wanted +to pour it out onto the bit of paper, the scrap on which he had spent +his entire fortune. + +They reached their lodging, and settled down to write. + +Berele began, and Yainkele stood and looked on. + +"Begin higher up! There is room there for a whole line. Why did you put +'to my beloved Father' so low down?" shrieked Yainkele. + +"Where am I to put it, then? In the sky, eh?" asked Berele, and pushed +Yainkele aside. + +"Go away, I will leave you half. Don't confuse me!--You be quiet!" and +Yainkele moved away, and stared with terrified eyes at Berele, as he sat +there, bent double, and wrote and wrote, knitted his brows, and dipped +the pen, and reflected, and wrote again. + +"That's enough!" screamed Yainkele, after a few minutes. + +"It's not the half yet," answered Berele, writing on. + +"But I ought to have more than half!" said Yainkele, crossly. The +longing to write, to pour out his heart onto the post-card, was +overwhelming him. + +But Berele did not even hear: he had launched out into such rhetorical +Hebrew expressions as "First of all, I let you know that I am alive and +well," which he had learnt in "The Perfect Letter-Writer," and his +little bits of news remained unwritten. He had yet to abuse Lezer the +carrier, to tell how many pages of the Gemoreh he had learnt, to let +them know they were to send another parcel, because they had no "Monday" +and no "Wednesday," and the "Tuesday" was no better than nothing. + +And Berele writes and writes, and Yainkele can no longer contain +himself--he sees that Berele is taking up more than half the card. + +"Enough!" He ran forward with a cry, and seized the penholder. + +"Three words more!" begged Berele. + +"But remember, not more than three!" and Yainkele's eyes flashed. Berele +set to work to write the three words; but that which he wished to +express required yet ten to fifteen words, and Berele, excited by the +fact of writing, pecked away at the paper, and took up yet another bit +of the other half. + +"You stop!" shrieked Yainkele, and broke into hysterical sobs, as he saw +what a small space remained for him. + +"Hush! Just 'from me, thy son,'" begged Berele, "nothing else!" + +But Yainkele, remembering that he had given a whole vierer toward the +post-card, and that they would read so much of Berele at home, and so +little of him, flew into a passion, and came and tried to tear away the +card from under Berele's hands. "Let me put 'from me, thy son'!" +implored Berele. + +"It will do _without_ 'from me, thy son'!" screamed Yainkele, although +he _felt_ that one ought to put it. His anger rose, and he began tugging +at the card. Berele held tight, but Yainkele gave such a pull that the +card tore in two. + +"What have you done, villain!" cried Berele, glaring at Yainkele. + +"I _meant_ to do it!" wailed Yainkele. + +"Oh, but why did you?" cried Berele, gazing in despair at the two torn +halves of the post-card. + +But Yainkele could not answer. The tears choked him, and he threw +himself against the wall, tearing his hair. Then Berele gave way, too, +and the little room resounded with lamentations. + + + + +LOST HIS VOICE + + +It was in the large synagogue in Klemenke. The week-day service had come +to an end. The town cantor who sings all the prayers, even when he prays +alone, and who is longer over them than other people, had already folded +his prayer-scarf, and was humming the day's Psalm to himself, to a tune. +He sang the last words "cantorishly" high: + +"And He will be our guide until death." In the last word "death" he +tried, as usual, to rise artistically to the higher octave, then to fall +very low, and to rise again almost at once into the height; but this +time he failed, the note stuck in his throat and came out false. + +He got a fright, and in his fright he looked round to make sure no one +was standing beside him. Seeing only old Henoch, his alarm grew less, he +knew that old Henoch was deaf. + +As he went out with his prayer-scarf and phylacteries under his arm, the +unsuccessful "death" rang in his ears and troubled him. + +"Plague take it," he muttered, "it never once happened to me before." + +Soon, however, he remembered that two weeks ago, on the Sabbath before +the New Moon, as he stood praying with the choristers before the altar, +nearly the same thing had happened to him when he sang "He is our God" +as a solo in the Kedushah. + +Happily no one remarked it--anyway the "bass" had said nothing to him. +And the memory of the unsuccessful "Hear, O Israel" of two weeks ago and +of to-day's "unto death" were mingled together, and lay heavily on his +heart. + +He would have liked to try the note once more as he walked, but the +street was just then full of people, and he tried to refrain till he +should reach home. Contrary to his usual custom, he began taking rapid +steps, and it looked as if he were running away from someone. On +reaching home, he put away his prayer-scarf without saying so much as +good morning, recovered his breath after the quick walk, and began to +sing, "He shall be our guide until death." + +"That's right, you have so little time to sing in! The day is too short +for you!" exclaimed the cantoress, angrily. "It grates on the ears +enough already!" + +"How, it grates?" and the cantor's eyes opened wide with fright, "I sing +a note, and you say 'it grates'? How can it grate?" + +He looked at her imploringly, his eyes said: "Have pity on me! Don't +say, 'it grates'! because if it _does_ grate, I am miserable, I am done +for!" + +But the cantoress was much too busy and preoccupied with the dinner to +sympathize and to understand how things stood with her husband, and went +on: + +"Of course it grates! Why shouldn't it? It deafens me. When you sing in +the choir, I have to bear it, but when you begin by yourself--what?" + +The cantor had grown as white as chalk, and only just managed to say: + +"Grune, are you mad? What are you talking about?" + +"What ails the man to-day!" exclaimed Grune, impatiently. "You've made a +fool of yourself long enough! Go and wash your hands and come to +dinner!" + +The cantor felt no appetite, but he reflected that one must eat, if only +as a remedy; not to eat would make matters worse, and he washed his +hands. + +He chanted the grace loud and cantor-like, glancing occasionally at his +wife, to see if she noticed anything wrong; but this time she said +nothing at all, and he was reassured. "It was my fancy--just my fancy!" +he said to himself. "All nonsense! One doesn't lose one's voice so soon +as all that!" + +Then he remembered that he was already forty years old, and it had +happened to the cantor Meyer Lieder, when he was just that age-- + +That was enough to put him into a fright again. He bent his head, and +thought deeply. Then he raised it, and called out loud: + +"Grune!" + +"Hush! What is it? What makes you call out in that strange voice?" asked +Grune, crossly, running in. + +"Well, well, let me live!" said the cantor. "Why do you say 'in that +strange voice'? Whose voice was it? eh? What is the matter now?" + +There was a sound as of tears as he spoke. + +"You're cracked to-day! As nonsensical--Well, what do you want?" + +"Beat up one or two eggs for me!" begged the cantor, softly. + +"Here's a new holiday!" screamed Grune. "On a Wednesday! Have you got to +chant the Sabbath prayers? Eggs are so dear now--five kopeks apiece!" + +"Grune," commanded the cantor, "they may be one ruble apiece, two +rubles, five rubles, one hundred rubles. Do you hear? Beat up two eggs +for me, and don't talk!" + +"To be sure, you earn so much money!" muttered Grune. + +"Then you think it's all over with me?" said the cantor, boldly. "No, +Grune!" + +He wanted to tell her that he wasn't sure about it yet, there was still +hope, it might be all a fancy, perhaps it was imagination, but he was +afraid to say all that, and Grune did not understand what he stammered +out. She shrugged her shoulders, and only said, "Upon my word!" and went +to beat up the eggs. + +The cantor sat and sang to himself. He listened to every note as though +he were examining some one. Finding himself unable to take the high +octave, he called out despairingly: + +"Grune, make haste with the eggs!" His one hope lay in the eggs. + +The cantoress brought them with a cross face, and grumbled: + +"He wants eggs, and we're pinching and starving--" + +The cantor would have liked to open his heart to her, so that she should +not think the eggs were what he cared about; he would have liked to say, +"Grune, I think I'm done for!" but he summoned all his courage and +refrained. + +"After all, it may be only an idea," he thought. + +And without saying anything further, he began to drink up the eggs as a +remedy. + +When they were finished, he tried to make a few cantor-like trills. In +this he succeeded, and he grew more cheerful. + +"It will be all right," he thought, "I shall not lose my voice so soon +as all that! Never mind Meyer Lieder, he drank! I don't drink, only a +little wine now and again, at a circumcision." + +His appetite returned, and he swallowed mouthful after mouthful. + +But his cheerfulness did not last: the erstwhile unsuccessful "death" +rang in his ears, and the worry returned and took possession of him. + +The fear of losing his voice had tormented the cantor for the greater +part of his life. His one care, his one anxiety had been, what should he +do if he were to lose his voice? It had happened to him once already, +when he was fourteen years old. He had a tenor voice, which broke all of +a sudden. But that time he didn't care. On the contrary, he was +delighted, he knew that his voice was merely changing, and that in six +months he would get the baritone for which he was impatiently waiting. +But when he had got the baritone, he knew that when he lost that, it +would be lost indeed--he would get no other voice. So he took great care +of it--how much more so when he had his own household, and had taken the +office of cantor in Klemenke! Not a breath of wind was allowed to blow +upon his throat, and he wore a comforter in the hottest weather. + +It was not so much on account of the Klemenke householders--he felt sure +they would not dismiss him from his office. Even if he were to lose his +voice altogether, he would still receive his salary. It was not brought +to him to his house, as it was--he had to go for it every Friday from +door to door, and the Klemenke Jews were good-hearted, and never refused +anything to the outstretched hand. He took care of his voice, and +trembled to lose it, only out of love for the singing. He thought a +great deal of the Klemenke Jews--their like was not to be found--but in +the interpretation of music they were uninitiated, they had no feeling +whatever. And when, standing before the altar, he used to make artistic +trills and variations, and take the highest notes, that was for +_himself_--he had great joy in it--and also for his eight singers, who +were all the world to him. His very life was bound up with them, and +when one of them exclaimed, "Oi, cantor! Oi, how you sing!" his +happiness was complete. + +The singers had come together from various towns and villages, and all +their conversations and their stories turned and wrapped themselves +round cantors and music. These stories and legends were the cantor's +delight, he would lose himself in every one of them, and give a sweet, +deep sigh: + +"As if music were a trifle! As if a feeling were a toy!" And now that he +had begun to fear he was losing his voice, it seemed to him the singers +were different people--bad people! They must be laughing at him among +themselves! And he began to be on his guard against them, avoided taking +a high note in their presence, lest they should find out--and suffered +all the more. + +And what would the neighboring cantors say? The thought tormented him +further. He knew that he had a reputation among them, that he was a +great deal thought of, that his voice was much talked of. He saw in his +mind's eye a couple of cantors whispering together, and shaking their +heads sorrowfully: they are pitying him! "How sad! You have heard? The +poor Klemenke cantor----" + +The vision quite upset him. + +"Perhaps it's only fancy!" he would say to himself in those dreadful +moments, and would begin to sing, to try his highest notes. But the +terror he was in took away his hearing, and he could not tell if his +voice were what it should be or not. + +In two weeks time his face grew pale and thin, his eyes were sunk, and +he felt his strength going. + +"What is the matter with you, cantor?" said a singer to him one day. + +"Ha, what is the matter?" asked the cantor, with a start, thinking they +had already found out. "You ask what is the matter with me? Then you +know something about it, ha!" + +"No, I know nothing. That is why I ask you why you look so upset." + +"Upset, you say? Nothing more than upset, ha? That's all?" + +"The cantor must be thinking out some new piece for the Solemn Days," +decided the choir. + +Another month went by, and the cantor had not got the better of his +fear. Life had become distasteful to him. If he had known for certain +that his voice was gone, he would perhaps have been calmer. Verfallen! +No one can live forever (losing his voice and dying was one and the same +to him), but the uncertainty, the tossing oneself between yes and no, +the Olom ha-Tohu of it all, embittered the cantor's existence. + +At last, one fine day, the cantor resolved to get at the truth: he could +bear it no longer. + +It was evening, the wife had gone to the market for meat, and the choir +had gone home, only the eldest singer, Yoessel "bass," remained with the +cantor. + +The cantor looked at him, opened his mouth and shut it again; it was +difficult for him to say what he wanted to say. + +At last he broke out with: + +"Yoessel!" + +"What is it, cantor?" + +"Tell me, are you an honest man?" + +Yoessel "bass" stared at the cantor, and asked: + +"What are you asking me to-day, cantor?" + +"Brother Yoessel," the cantor said, all but weeping, "Brother Yoessel!" + +That was all he could say. + +"Cantor, what is wrong with you?" + +"Brother Yoessel, be an honest man, and tell me the truth, the truth!" + +"I don't understand! What is the matter with you, cantor?" + +"Tell me the truth: Do you notice any change in me?" + +"Yes, I do," answered the singer, looking at the cantor, and seeing how +pale and thin he was. "A very great change----" + +"Now I see you are an honest man, you tell me the truth to my face. Do +you know when it began?" + +"It will soon be a month," answered the singer. + +"Yes, brother, a month, a month, but I felt--" + +The cantor wiped off the perspiration that covered his forehead, and +continued: + +"And you think, Yoessel, that it's lost now, for good and all?" + +"That _what_ is lost?" asked Yoessel, beginning to be aware that the +conversation turned on something quite different from what was in his +own mind. + +"What? How can you ask? Ah? What should I lose? Money? I have no +money--I mean--of course--my voice." + +Then Yoessel understood everything--he was too much of a musician _not_ +to understand. Looking compassionately at the cantor, he asked: + +"For certain?" + +"For certain?" exclaimed the cantor, trying to be cheerful. "Why must it +be for certain? Very likely it's all a mistake--let us hope it is!" + +Yoessel looked at the cantor, and as a doctor behaves to his patient, so +did he: + +"Take _do_!" he said, and the cantor, like an obedient pupil, drew out +_do_. + +"Draw it out, draw it out! Four quavers--draw it out!" commanded Yoessel, +listening attentively. + +The cantor drew it out. + +"Now, if you please, _re_!" + +The cantor sang out _re-re-re_. + +The singer moved aside, appeared to be lost in thought, and then said, +sadly: + +"Gone!" + +"Forever?" + +"Well, are you a little boy? Are you likely to get another voice? At +your time of life, gone is gone!" + +The cantor wrung his hands, threw himself down beside the table, and, +laying his head on his arms, he burst out crying like a child. + +Next morning the whole town had heard of the misfortune--that the cantor +had lost his voice. + +"It's an ill wind----" quoted the innkeeper, a well-to-do man. "He won't +keep us so long with his trills on Sabbath. I'd take a bitter onion for +that voice of his, any day!" + + + + +LATE + + +It was in sad and hopeless mood that Antosh watched the autumn making +its way into his peasant's hut. The days began to shorten and the +evenings to lengthen, and there was no more petroleum in the hut to fill +his humble lamp; his wife complained too--the store of salt was giving +out; there was very little soap left, and in a few days he would finish +his tobacco. And Antosh cleared his throat, spat, and muttered countless +times a day: + +"No salt, no soap, no tobacco; we haven't got anything. A bad business!" + +Antosh had no prospect of earning anything in the village. The one +village Jew was poor himself, and had no work to give. Antosh had only +_one_ hope left. Just before the Feast of Tabernacles he would drive a +whole cart-load of fir-boughs into the little town and bring a tidy sum +of money home in exchange. + +He did this every year, since buying his thin horse in the market for +six rubles. + +"When shall you have Tabernacles?" he asked every day of the village +Jew. "Not yet," was the Jew's daily reply. "But when _shall_ you?" +Antosh insisted one day. + +"In a week," answered the Jew, not dreaming how very much Antosh needed +to know precisely. + +In reality there were only five more days to Tabernacles, and Antosh had +calculated with business accuracy that it would be best to take the +fir-boughs into the town two days before the festival. But this was +really the first day of it. + +He rose early, ate his dry, black bread dipped in salt, and drank a +measure of water. Then he harnessed his thin, starved horse to the cart, +took his hatchet, and drove into the nearest wood. + +He cut down the branches greedily, seeking out the thickest and longest. + +"Good ware is easier sold," he thought, and the cart filled, and the +load grew higher and higher. He was calculating on a return of three +gulden, and it seemed still too little, so that he went on cutting, and +laid on a few more boughs. The cart could hold no more, and Antosh +looked at it from all sides, and smiled contentedly. + +"That will be enough," he muttered, and loosened the reins. But scarcely +had he driven a few paces, when he stopped and looked the cart over +again. + +"Perhaps it's not enough, after all?" he questioned fearfully, cut down +five more boughs, laid them onto the already full cart, and drove on. + +He drove slowly, pace by pace, and his thoughts travelled slowly too, as +though keeping step with the thin horse. + +Antosh was calculating how much salt and how much soap, how much +petroleum and how much tobacco he could buy for the return for his ware. +At length the calculating tired him, and he resolved to put it off till +he should have the cash. Then the calculating would be done much more +easily. + +But when he reached the town, and saw that the booths were already +covered with fir-boughs, he felt a pang at his heart. The booths and the +houses seemed to be twirling round him in a circle, and dancing. But he +consoled himself with the thought that every year, when he drove into +town, he found many booths already covered. Some cover earlier, some +later. The latter paid the best. + +"I shall ask higher prices," he resolved, and all the while fear tugged +at his heart. He drove on. Two Jewish women were standing before a +house; they pointed at the cart with their finger, and laughed aloud. + +"Why do you laugh?" queried Antosh, excitedly. + +"Because you are too soon with your fir-boughs," they answered, and +laughed again. + +"How too soon?" he asked, astonished. "Too soon--too soon--" laughed the +women. + +"Pfui," Antosh spat, and drove on, thinking, "Berko said himself, 'In a +week.' I am only two days ahead." + +A cold sweat covered him, as he reflected he might have made a wrong +calculation, founded on what Berko had told him. It was possible that he +had counted the days badly--had come too late! There is no doubt: all +the booths are covered with fir-boughs. He will have no salt, no +tobacco, no soap, and no petroleum. + +Sadly he followed the slow paces of his languid horse, which let his +weary head droop as though out of sympathy for his master. + +Meantime the Jews were crowding out of the synagogues in festal array, +with their prayer-scarfs and prayer-books in their hands. When they +perceived the peasant with the cart of fir-boughs, they looked +questioningly one at the other: Had they made a mistake and begun the +festival too early? + +"What have you there?" some one inquired. + +"What?" answered Antosh, taken aback. "Fir-boughs! Buy, my dear friend, +I sell it cheap!" he begged in a piteous voice. + +The Jews burst out laughing. + +"What should we want it for now, fool?" "The festival has begun!" said +another. Antosh was confused with his misfortune, he scratched the back +of his head, and exclaimed, weeping: + +"Buy! Buy! I want salt, soap! I want petroleum." + +The group of Jews, who had begun by laughing, were now deeply moved. +They saw the poor, starving peasant standing there in his despair, and +were filled with a lively compassion. + +"A poor Gentile--it's pitiful!" said one, sympathetically. "He hoped to +make a fortune out of his fir-boughs, and now!" observed another. + +"It would be proper to buy up that bit of fir," said a third, "else it +might cause a Chillul ha-Shem." "On a festival?" objected some one else. + +"It can always be used for firewood," said another, contemplating the +cartful. + +"Whether or no! It's a festival----" + +"No salt, no soap, no petroleum--" It was the refrain of the bewildered +peasant, who did not understand what the Jews were saying among +themselves. He could only guess that they were talking about him. "Hold! +he doesn't want _money_! He wants ware. Ware without money may be given +even on a festival," called out one. + +The interest of the bystanders waxed more lively. Among them stood a +storekeeper, whose shop was close by. "Give him, Chayyim, a few jars of +salt and other things that he wants--even if it comes to a few gulden. +We will contribute." + +"All right, willingly!" said Chayyim, "A poor Gentile!" + +"A precept, a precept! It would be carrying out a religious precept, as +surely as I am a Jew!" chimed in every individual member of the crowd. + +Chayyim called the peasant to him; all the rest followed. He gave him +out of the stores two jars of salt, a bar of soap, a bottle of +petroleum, and two packets of tobacco. + +The peasant did not know what to do for joy. He could only stammer in a +low voice, "Thank you! thank you!" + +"And there's a bit of Sabbath loaf," called out one, when he had packed +the things away, "take that with you!" + +"There's some more!" and a second hand held some out to him. + +"More!" + +"More!" + +"And more!" + +They brought Antosh bread and cake from all sides; his astonishment was +such that he could scarcely articulate his thanks. + +The people were pleased with themselves, and Yainkel Leives, a cheerful +man, who was well supplied for the festival, because his daughter's +"intended" was staying in his house, brought Antosh a glass of brandy: + +"Drink, and drive home, in the name of God!" + +Antosh drank the brandy with a quick gulp, bit off a piece of cake, and +declared joyfully, "I shall never forget it!" + +"Not at all a bad Gentile," remarked someone in the crowd. + +"Well, what would you have? Did you expect him to beat you?" queried +another, smiling. + +The words "to beat" made a melancholy impression on the crowd, and it +dispersed in silence. + + + + +THE KADDISH + + +From behind the curtain came low moans, and low words of encouragement +from the old and experienced Bobbe. In the room it was dismal to +suffocation. The seven children, all girls, between twenty-three and +four years old, sat quietly, each by herself, with drooping head, and +waited for something dreadful. + +At a little table near a great cupboard with books sat the "patriarch" +Reb Selig Chanes, a tall, thin Jew, with a yellow, consumptive face. He +was chanting in low, broken tones out of a big Gemoreh, and continually +raising his head, giving a nervous glance at the curtain, and then, +without inquiring what might be going on beyond the low moaning, taking +up once again his sad, tremulous chant. He seemed to be suffering more +than the woman in childbirth herself. + +"Lord of the World!"--it was the eldest daughter who broke the +stillness--"Let it be a boy for once! Help, Lord of the World, have +pity!" + +"Oi, thus might it be, Lord of the World!" chimed in the second. + +And all the girls, little and big, with broken heart and prostrate +spirit, prayed that there might be born a boy. + +Reb Selig raised his eyes from the Gemoreh, glanced at the curtain, then +at the seven girls, gave vent to a deep-drawn Oi, made a gesture with +his hand, and said with settled despair, "She will give you another +sister!" + +The seven girls looked at one another in desperation; their father's +conclusion quite crushed them, and they had no longer even the courage +to pray. + +Only the littlest, the four-year-old, in the torn frock, prayed softly: + +"Oi, please God, there will be a little brother." + +"I shall die without a Kaddish!" groaned Reb Selig. + +The time drags on, the moans behind the curtain grow louder, and Reb +Selig and the elder girls feel that soon, very soon, the "grandmother" +will call out in despair, "A little girl!" And Reb Selig feels that the +words will strike home to his heart like a blow, and he resolves to run +away. + +He goes out into the yard, and looks up at the sky. It is midnight. The +moon swims along so quietly and indifferently, the stars seem to frolic +and rock themselves like little children, and still Reb Selig hears, in +the "grandmother's" husky voice, "A girl!" + +"Well, there will be no Kaddish! Verfallen!" he says, crossing the yard +again. "There's no getting it by force!" + +But his trying to calm himself is useless; the fear that it should be a +girl only grows upon him. He loses patience, and goes back into the +house. + +But the house is in a turmoil. + +"What is it, eh?" + +"A little boy! Tate, a boy! Tatinke, as surely may I be well!" with this +news the seven girls fall upon him with radiant faces. + +"Eh, a little boy?" asked Reb Selig, as though bewildered, "eh? what?" + +"A boy, Reb Selig, a Kaddish!" announced the "grandmother." "As soon as +I have bathed him, I will show him you!" + +"A boy ... a boy ..." stammered Reb Selig in the same bewilderment, and +he leant against the wall, and burst into tears like a woman. + +The seven girls took alarm. + +"That is for joy," explained the "grandmother," "I have known that +happen before." + +"A boy ... a boy!" sobbed Reb Selig, overcome with happiness, "a boy ... +a boy ... a Kaddish!" + + * * * * * + +The little boy received the name of Jacob, but he was called, by way of +a talisman, Alter. + +Reb Selig was a learned man, and inclined to think lightly of such +protective measures; he even laughed at his Cheike for believing in such +foolishness; but, at heart, he was content to have it so. Who could tell +what might not be in it, after all? Women sometimes know better than +men. + +By the time Alterke was three years old, Reb Selig's cough had become +worse, the sense of oppression on his chest more frequent. But he held +himself morally erect, and looked death calmly in the face, as though he +would say, "Now I can afford to laugh at you--I leave a Kaddish!" + +"What do you think, Cheike," he would say to his wife, after a fit of +coughing, "would Alterke be able to say Kaddish if I were to die to-day +or to-morrow?" + +"Go along with you, crazy pate!" Cheike would exclaim in secret alarm. +"You are going to live a long while! Is your cough anything new?" + +Selig smiled, "Foolish woman, she supposes I am afraid to die. When one +leaves a Kaddish, death is a trifle." + +Alterke was sitting playing with a prayer-book and imitating his father +at prayer, "A num-num--a num-num." + +"Listen to him praying!" and Cheike turned delightedly to her husband. +"His soul is piously inclined!" + +Selig made no reply, he only gazed at his Kaddish with a beaming face. +Then an idea came into his head: Alterke will be a Tzaddik, will help +him out of all his difficulties in the other world. + +"Mame, I want to eat!" wailed Alterke, suddenly. + +He was given a piece of the white bread which was laid aside, for him +only, every Sabbath. + +Alterke began to eat. + +"Who bringest forth! Who bringest forth!" called out Reb Selig. + +"Tan't!" answered the child. + +"It is time you taught him to say grace," observed Cheike. + +And Reb Selig drew Alterke to him and began to repeat with him. + +"Say: Boruch." + +"Bo'uch," repeated the child after his fashion. + +"Attoh." + +"Attoh." + +When Alterke had finished "Who bringest forth," Cheike answered piously +Amen, and Reb Selig saw Alterke, in imagination, standing in the +synagogue and repeating Kaddish, and heard the congregation answer +Amen, and he felt as though he were already seated in the Garden of +Eden. + + * * * * * + +Another year went by, and Reb Selig was feeling very poorly. Spring had +come, the snow had melted, and he found the wet weather more trying than +ever before. He could just drag himself early to the synagogue, but +going to the afternoon service had become a difficulty, and he used to +recite the afternoon and later service at home, and spend the whole +evening with Alterke. + +It was late at night. All the houses were shut. Reb Selig sat at his +little table, and was looking into the corner where Cheike's bed stood, +and where Alterke slept beside her. Selig had a feeling that he would +die that night. He felt very tired and weak, and with an imploring look +he crept up to Alterke's crib, and began to wake him. + +The child woke with a start. + +"Alterke"--Reb Selig was stroking the little head--"come to me for a +little!" + +The child, who had had his first sleep out, sprang up, and went to his +father. + +Reb Selig sat down in the chair which stood by the little table with the +open Gemoreh, lifted Alterke onto the table, and looked into his eyes. + +"Alterke!" + +"What, Tate?" + +"Would you like me to die?" + +"Like," answered the child, not knowing what "to die" meant, and +thinking it must be something nice. + +"Will you say Kaddish after me?" asked Reb Selig, in a strangled voice, +and he was seized with a fit of coughing. + +"Will say!" promised the child. + +"Shall you know how?" + +"Shall!" + +"Well, now, say: Yisgaddal." + +"Yisdaddal," repeated the child in his own way. + +"Veyiskaddash." + +"Veyistaddash." + +And Reb Selig repeated the Kaddish with him several times. + +The small lamp burnt low, and scarcely illuminated Reb Selig's yellow, +corpse-like face, or the little one of Alterke, who repeated wearily the +difficult, and to him unintelligible words of the Kaddish. And Alterke, +all the while, gazed intently into the corner, where Tate's shadow and +his own had a most fantastic and frightening appearance. + + + + +AVROHOM THE ORCHARD-KEEPER + + +When he first came to the place, as a boy, and went straight to the +house-of-study, and people, having greeted him, asked "Where do you come +from?" and he answered, not without pride, "From the Government of +Wilna"--from that day until the day he was married, they called him "the +Wilner." + +In a few years' time, however, when the house-of-study had married him +to the daughter of the Psalm-reader, a coarse, undersized creature, and +when, after six months' "board" with his father-in-law, he became a +teacher, the town altered his name to "the Wilner teacher." Again, a few +years later, when he got a chest affection, and the doctor forbade him +to keep school, and he began to deal in fruit, the town learnt that his +name was Avrohom, to which they added "the orchard-keeper," and his name +is "Avrohom the orchard-keeper" to this day. + +Avrohom was quite content with his new calling. He had always wished for +a business in which he need not have to do with a lot of people in whom +he had small confidence, and in whose society he felt ill at ease. + +People have a queer way with them, he used to think, they want to be +always talking! They want to tell everything, find out everything, +answer everything! + +When he was a student he always chose out a place in a corner somewhere, +where he could see nobody, and nobody could see him; and he used to +murmur the day's task to a low tune, and his murmured repetition made +him think of the ruin in which Rabbi Jose, praying there, heard the +Bas-Kol mourn, cooing like a dove, over the exile of Israel. And then he +longed to float away to that ruin somewhere in the wilderness, and +murmur there like a dove, with no one, no one, to interrupt him, not +even the Bas-Kol. But his vision would be destroyed by some hard +question which a fellow-student would put before him, describing circles +with his thumb and chanting to a shrill Gemoreh-tune. + +In the orchard, at the end of the Gass, however, which Avrohom hired of +the Gentiles, he had no need to exchange empty words with anyone. +Avrohom had no large capital, and could not afford to hire an orchard +for more than thirty rubles. The orchard was consequently small, and +only grew about twenty apple-trees, a few pear-trees, and a cherry-tree. +Avrohom used to move to the garden directly after the Feast of Weeks, +although that was still very early, the fruit had not yet set, and there +was nothing to steal. + +But Avrohom could not endure sitting at home any longer, where the wife +screamed, the children cried, and there was a continual "fair." What +should he want there? He only wished to be alone with his thoughts and +imaginings, and his quiet "tunes," which were always weaving themselves +inside him, and were nearly stifled. + +It is early to go to the orchard directly after the Feast of Weeks, but +Avrohom does not mind, he is drawn back to the trees that can think and +hear so much, and keep so many things to themselves. + +And Avrohom betakes himself to the orchard. He carries with him, besides +phylacteries and prayer-scarf, a prayer-book with the Psalms and the +"Stations," two volumes of the Gemoreh which he owns, a few works by the +later scholars, and the Tales of Jerusalem; he takes his wadded winter +garment and a cushion, makes them into a bundle, kisses the Mezuzeh, +mutters farewell, and is off to the orchard. + +As he nears the orchard his heart begins to beat loudly for joy, but he +is hindered from going there at once. In the yard through which he must +pass lies a dog. Later on, when Avrohom has got to know the dog, he will +even take him into the orchard, but the first time there is a certain +risk--one has to know a dog, otherwise it barks, and Avrohom dreads a +bark worse than a bite--it goes through one's head! And Avrohom waits +till the owner comes out, and leads him through by the hand. + +"Back already?" exclaims the owner, laughing and astonished. + +"Why not?" murmurs Avrohom, shamefacedly, and feeling that it is, +indeed, early. + +"What shall you do?" asks the owner, graver. "There is no hut there at +all--last year's fell to pieces." + +"Never mind, never mind," begs Avrohom, "it will be all right." + +"Well, if you want to come!" and the owner shrugs his shoulders, and +lets Avrohom into the orchard. + +Avrohom immediately lays his bundle on the ground, stretches himself out +full length on the grass, and murmurs, "Good! good!" + +At last he is silent, and listens to the quiet rustle of the trees. It +seems to him that the trees also wonder at his coming so soon, and he +looks at them beseechingly, as though he would say: + +"Trees--you, too! I couldn't help it ... it drew me...." + +And soon he fancies that the trees have understood everything, and +murmur, "Good, good!" + +And Avrohom already feels at home in the orchard. He rises from the +ground, and goes to every tree in turn, as though to make its +acquaintance. Then he considers the hut that stands in the middle of the +orchard. + +It has fallen in a little certainly, but Avrohom is all the better +pleased with it. He is not particularly fond of new, strong things, a +building resembling a ruin is somehow much more to his liking. Such a +ruin is inwardly full of secrets, whispers, and melodies. There the +tears fall quietly, while the soul yearns after something that has no +name and no existence in time or space. And Avrohom creeps into the +fallen-in hut, where it is dark and where there are smells of another +world. He draws himself up into a ball, and remains hid from everyone. + + * * * * * + +But to remain hid from the world is not so easy. At first it can be +managed. So long as the fruit is ripening, he needs no one, and no one +needs him. When one of his children brings him food, he exchanges a few +words with it, asks what is going on at home, and how the mother is, and +he feels he has done his duty, if, when obliged to go home, he spends +there Friday night and Saturday morning. That over, and the hot stew +eaten, he returns to the orchard, lies down under a tree, opens the +Tales of Jerusalem, goes to sleep reading a fantastical legend, dreams +of the Western Wall, Mother Rachel's Grave, the Cave of Machpelah, and +other holy, quiet places--places where the air is full of old stories +such as are given, in such easy Hebrew, in the Tales of Jerusalem. + +But when the fruit is ripe, and the trees begin to bend under the burden +of it, Avrohom must perforce leave his peaceful world, and become a +trader. + +When the first wind begins to blow in the orchard, and covers the ground +thereof with apples and pears, Avrohom collects them, makes them into +heaps, sorts them, and awaits the market-women with their loud tongues, +who destroy all the peace and quiet of his Garden of Eden. + +On Sabbath he would like to rest, but of a Sabbath the trade in +apples--on tick of course--is very lively in the orchards. There is a +custom in the town to that effect, and Avrohom cannot do away with it. +Young gentlemen and young ladies come into the orchard, and hold a sort +of revel; they sing and laugh, they walk and they chatter, and Avrohom +must listen to it all, and bear it, and wait for the night, when he can +creep back into his hut, and need look at no one but the trees, and hear +nothing but the wind, and sometimes the rain and the thunder. + +But it is worse in the autumn, when the fruit is getting over-ripe, and +he can no longer remain in the orchard. With a bursting heart he bids +farewell to the trees, to the hut in which he has spent so many quiet, +peaceful moments. He conveys the apples to a shed belonging to the farm, +which he has hired, ever since he had the orchard, for ten gulden a +month, and goes back to the Gass. + +In the Gass, at that time, there is mud and rain. Town Jews drag +themselves along sick and disheartened. They cough and groan. Avrohom +stares round him, and fails to recognize the world. + +"Bad!" he mutters. "Fe!" and he spits. "Where is one to get to?" + +And Avrohom recalls the beautiful legends in the Tales of Jerusalem, he +recalls the land of Israel. + +There he knows it is always summer, always warm and fine. And every +autumn the vision draws him. + +But there is no possibility of his being able to go there--he must sell +the apples which he has brought from the orchard, and feed the wife and +the children he has "outside the land." And all through the autumn and +part of the winter, Avrohom drags himself about with a basket of apples +on his arm and a yearning in his heart. He waits for the dear summer, +when he will be able to go back and hide himself in the orchard, in the +hut, and be alone, where the town mud and the town Jews with dulled +senses shall be out of sight, and the week-day noise, out of hearing. + + + + +HIRSH DAVID NAUMBERG + + +Born, 1876, in Msczczonow, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland, of +Hasidic parentage; traditional Jewish education in the house of his +grandfather; went to Warsaw in 1898; at present (1912) in America; first +literary work appeared in 1900; writer of stories, etc., in Hebrew and +Yiddish; co-editor of Ha-Zofeh, Der Freind, Ha-Boker; contributor to +Ha-Zeman, Heint, Ha-Dor, Ha-Shiloah, etc.; collected works, 5 vols., +Warsaw, 1908-1911. + + + + +THE RAV AND THE RAV'S SON + + +The Sabbath midday meal is over, and the Saken Rav passes his hands +across his serene and pious countenance, pulls out both earlocks, +straightens his skull-cap, and prepares to expound a passage of the +Torah as God shall enlighten him. There sit with him at table, to one +side of him, a passing guest, a Libavitch Chossid, like the Rav himself, +a man with yellow beard and earlocks, and a grubby shirt collar +appearing above the grubby yellow kerchief that envelopes his throat; to +the other side of him, his son Sholem, an eighteen-year-old youth, with +a long pale face, deep, rather dreamy eyes, a velvet hat, but no +earlocks, a secret Maskil, who writes Hebrew verses, and contemplates +growing into a great Jewish author. The Rebbetzin has been suffering two +or three months with rheumatism, and lies in another room. + +The Rav is naturally humble-minded, and it is no trifle to him to +expound the Torah. To take a passage of the Bible and say, The meaning +is this and that, is a thing he hasn't the cheek to do. It makes him +feel as uncomfortable as if he were telling lies. Up to twenty-five +years of age he was a Misnaggid, but under the influence of the Saken +Rebbetzin, he became a Chossid, bit by bit. Now he is over fifty, he +drives to the Rebbe, and comes home every time with increased faith in +the latter's supernatural powers, and, moreover, with a strong desire to +expound a little of the Torah himself; only, whenever a good idea comes +into his head, it oppresses him, because he has not sufficient +self-confidence to express it. + +The difficulty for him lies in making a start. He would like to do as +the Rebbe does (long life to him!)--give a push to his chair, a look, +stern and somewhat angry, at those sitting at table, then a groaning +sigh. But the Rav is ashamed to imitate him, or is partly afraid, lest +people should catch him doing it. He drops his eyes, holds one hand to +his forehead, while the other plays with the knife on the table, and one +hardly hears: + +"When thou goest forth to war with thine enemy--thine enemy--that is, +the inclination to evil, oi, oi,--a--" he nods his head, gathers a +little confidence, continues his explanation of the passage, and +gradually warms to the part. He already looks the stranger boldly in the +face. The stranger twists himself into a correct attitude, nods assent, +but cannot for the life of him tear his gaze from the brandy-bottle on +the table, and cannot wonder sufficiently at so much being allowed to +remain in it at the end of a meal. And when the Rav comes to the fact +that to be in "prison" means to have bad habits, and "well-favored +woman" means that every bad habit has its good side, the guest can no +longer restrain himself, seizes the bottle rather awkwardly, as though +in haste, fills up his glass, spills a little onto the cloth, and drinks +with his head thrown back, gulping it like a regular tippler, after a +hoarse and sleepy "to your health." This has a bad effect on the Rav's +enthusiasm, it "mixes his brains," and he turns to his son for help. To +tell the truth, he has not much confidence in his son where the Law is +concerned, although he loves him dearly, the boy being the only one of +his children in whom he may hope, with God's help, to have comfort, and +who, a hundred years hence, shall take over from him the office of Rav +in Saken. The elder son is rich, but he is a usurer, and his riches give +the Rav no satisfaction whatever. He had had one daughter, but she died, +leaving some little orphans. Sholem is, therefore, the only one left +him. He has a good head, and is quick at his studies, a quiet, +well-behaved boy, a little obstinate, a bit opinionated, but that is no +harm in a boy, thinks the old man. True, too, that last week people told +him tales. Sholem, they said, read heretical books, and had been seen +carrying "burdens" on Sabbath. But this the father does not believe, he +will not and cannot believe it. Besides, Sholem is certain to have made +amends. If a Talmid-Chochem commit a sin by day, it should be forgotten +by nightfall, because a Talmid-Chochem makes amends, it says so in the +Gemoreh. + +However, the Rav is ashamed to give his own exegesis of the Law before +his son, and he knows perfectly well that nothing will induce Sholem to +drive with him to the Rebbe. + +But the stranger and his brandy-drinking have so upset him that he now +looks at his son in a piteous sort of way. "Hear me out, Sholem, what +harm can it do you?" says his look. + +Sholem draws himself up, and pulls in his chair, supports his head with +both his hands, and gazes into his father's eyes out of filial duty. He +loves his father, but in his heart he wonders at him; it seems to him +his father ought to learn more about his heretical leanings--it is quite +time he should--and he continues to gaze in silence and in wonder, not +unmixed with compassion, and never ceases thinking, "Upon my word, Tate, +what a simpleton you are!" + +But when the Rav came in the course of his exposition to speak of "death +by kissing" (by the Lord), and told how the righteous, the holy +Tzaddikim, die from the very sweetness of the Blessed One's kiss, a +spark kindled in Sholem's eyes, and he moved in his chair. One of those +wonders had taken place which do frequently occur, only they are seldom +remarked: the Chassidic exposition of the Torah had suggested to Sholem +a splendid idea for a romantic poem! + +It is an old commonplace that men take in, of what they hear and see, +that which pleases them. Sholem is fascinated. He wishes to die anyhow, +so what could be more appropriate and to the purpose than that his love +should kiss him on his death-bed, while, in that very instant, his soul +departs? + +The idea pleased him so immensely that immediately after grace, the +stranger having gone on his way, and the Rav laid himself down to sleep +in the other room, Sholem began to write. His heart beat violently while +he made ready, but the very act of writing out a poem after dinner on +Sabbath, in the room where his father settled the cases laid before him +by the townsfolk, was a bit of heroism well worth the risk. He took the +writing-materials out of his locked box, and, the pen and ink-pot in one +hand and a collection of manuscript verse in the other, he went on +tiptoe to the table. + +He folded back the table-cover, laid down his writing apparatus, and +took another look around to make sure no one was in the room. He counted +on the fact that when the Rav awoke from his nap, he always coughed, and +that when he walked he shuffled so with his feet, and made so much noise +with his long slippers, that one could hear him two rooms off. In short, +there was no need to be anxious. + +He grows calmer, reads the manuscript poems, and his face tells that he +is pleased. Now he wants to collect his thoughts for the new one, but +something or other hinders him. He unfastens the girdle, round his +waist, rolls it up, and throws it into the Rav's soft stuffed chair. + +And now that there is nothing to disturb from without, a second and +third wonder must take place within: the Rav's Torah, which was +transformed by Sholem's brain into a theme for romance, must now descend +into his heart, thence to pour itself onto the paper, and pass, by this +means, into the heads of Sholem's friends, who read his poems with +enthusiasm, and have sinful dreams afterwards at night. + +And he begins to imagine himself on his death-bed, sick and weak, unable +to speak, and with staring eyes. He sees nothing more, but he feels a +light, ethereal kiss on his cheek, and his soul is aware of a sweet +voice speaking. He tries to take out his hands from under the coverlet, +but he cannot--he is dying--it grows dark. + +A still brighter and more unusual gleam comes into Sholem's eyes, his +heart swells with emotion seeking an outlet, his brain works like +running machinery, a whole dictionary of words, his whole treasure of +conceptions and ideas, is turned over and over so rapidly that the mind +is unconscious of its own efforts. His poetic instinct is searching for +what it needs. His hand works quietly, forming letter on letter, word on +word. Now and again Sholem lifts his eyes from the paper and looks +round, he has a feeling as though the four walls and the silence were +thinking to themselves: "Hush, hush! Disturb not the poet at his work of +creation! Disturb not the priest about to offer sacrifice to God." + + * * * * * + +To the Rav, meanwhile, lying in the other room, there had come a fresh +idea for the exposition of the Torah, and he required to look up +something in a book. The door of the reception-room opened, the Rav +entered, and Sholem had not heard him. + +It was a pity to see the Rav's face, it was so contracted with dismay, +and a pity to see Sholem's when he caught sight of his father, who, +utterly taken aback, dropt into a seat exactly opposite Sholem, and gave +a groan--was it? or a cry? + +But he did not sit long, he did not know what one should do or say to +one's son on such an occasion; his heart and his eyes inclined to +weeping, and he retired into his own room. Sholem remained alone with a +very sore heart and a soul opprest. He put the writing-materials back +into their box, and went out with the manuscript verses tucked away +under his Tallis-koton. + +He went into the house-of-study, but it looked dreadfully dismal; the +benches were pushed about anyhow, a sign that the last worshippers had +been in a great hurry to go home to dinner. The beadle was snoring on a +seat somewhere in a corner, as loud and as fast as if he were trying to +inhale all the air in the building, so that the next congregation might +be suffocated. The cloth on the platform reading-desk was crooked and +tumbled, the floor was dirty, and the whole place looked as dead as +though its Sabbath sleep were to last till the resurrection. + +He left the house-of-study, walked home and back again; up and down, +there and back, many times over. The situation became steadily clearer +to him; he wanted to justify himself, if only with a word, in his +father's eyes; then, again, he felt he must make an end, free himself +once and for all from the paternal restraint, and become a Jewish +author. Only he felt sorry for his father; he would have liked to do +something to comfort him. Only what? Kiss him? Put his arms round his +neck? Have his cry out before him and say, "Tatishe, you and I, we are +neither of us to blame!" Only how to say it so that the old man shall +understand? That is the question. + +And the Rav sat in his room, bent over a book in which he would fain +have lost himself. He rubbed his brow with both hands, but a stone lay +on his heart, a heavy stone; there were tears in his eyes, and he was +all but crying. He needed some living soul before whom he could pour out +the bitterness of his heart, and he had already turned to the Rebbetzin: + +"Zelde!" he called quietly. + +"A-h," sighed the Rebbetzin from her bed. "I feel bad; my foot aches, +Lord of the World! What is it?" + +"Nothing, Zelde. How are you getting on, eh?" He got no further with +her; he even mentally repented having so nearly added to her burden of +life. + +It was an hour or two before the Rav collected himself, and was able to +think over what had happened. And still he could not, would not, believe +that his son, Sholem, had broken the Sabbath, that he was worthy of +being stoned to death. He sought for some excuse for him, and found +none, and came at last to the conclusion that it was a work of Satan, a +special onset of the Tempter. And he kept on thinking of the Chassidic +legend of a Rabbi who was seen by a Chossid to smoke a pipe on Sabbath. +Only it was an illusion, a deception of the Evil One. But when, after he +had waited some time, no Sholem appeared, his heart began to beat more +steadily, the reality of the situation made itself felt, he got angry, +and hastily left the house in search of the Sabbath-breaker, intending +to make an example of him. + +Hardly, however, had he perceived his son walking to and fro in front of +the house-of-study, with a look of absorption and worry, than he stopped +short. He was afraid to go up to his son. Just then Sholem turned, they +saw each other, and the Rav had willy-nilly to approach him. + +"Will you come for a little walk?" asked the Rav gently, with downcast +eyes. Sholem made no reply, and followed him. + +They came to the Eruv, the Rav looked in all his pockets, found his +handkerchief, tied it round his neck, and glanced at his son with a kind +of prayer in his eye. Sholem tied his handkerchief round his neck. + +When they were outside the town, the old man coughed once and again and +said: + +"What is all this?" + +But Sholem was determined not to answer a word, and his father had to +summon all his courage to continue: + +"What is all this? Eh? Sabbath-breaking! It is--" + +He coughed and was silent. + +They were walking over a great, broad meadow, and Sholem had his gaze +fixed on a horse that was moving about with hobbled legs, while the Rav +shaded his eyes with one hand from the beams of the setting sun. + +"How can anyone break the Sabbath? Come now, is it right? Is it a thing +to do? Just to go and break the Sabbath! I knew Hebrew grammar, and +could write Hebrew, too, once upon a time, but break the Sabbath! Tell +me yourself, Sholem, what you think! When you have bad thoughts, how is +it you don't come to your father? I suppose I am your father, ha?" the +old man suddenly fired up. "Am I your father? Tell me--no? Am I perhaps +_not_ your father?" + +"For I _am_ his father," he reflected proudly. "That I certainly am, +there isn't the smallest doubt about it! The greatest heretic could not +deny it!" + +"You come to your father," he went on with more decision, and falling +into a Gemoreh chant, "and you tell him _all_ about it. What harm can it +do to tell him? No harm whatever. I also used to be tempted by bad +thoughts. Therefore I began driving to the Rebbe of Libavitch. One +mustn't let oneself go! Do you hear me, Sholem? One mustn't let oneself +go!" + +The last words were long drawn out, the Rav emphasizing them with his +hands and wrinkling his forehead. Carried away by what he was saying, he +now felt all but sure that Sholem had not begun to be a heretic. + +"You see," he continued very gently, "every now and then we come to a +stumbling-block, but all the same, we should not--" + +Meantime, however, the manuscript folio of verses had been slipping out +from under Sholem's Four-Corners, and here it fell to the ground. The +Rav stood staring, as though startled out of a sweet dream by the cry of +"fire." He quivered from top to toe, and seized his earlocks with both +hands. For there could be no doubt of the fact that Sholem had now +broken the Sabbath a second time--by carrying the folio outside the town +limit. And worse still, he had practiced deception, by searching his +pockets when they had come to the Eruv, as though to make sure not to +transgress by having anything inside them. + +Sholem, too, was taken by surprise. He hung his head, and his eyes +filled with tears. The old man was about to say something, probably to +begin again with "What is all this?" Then he hastily stopt and snatched +up the folio, as though he were afraid Sholem might get hold of it +first. + +"Ha--ha--azoi!" he began panting. "Azoi! A heretic! A Goi." + +But it was hard for him to speak. He might not move from where he stood, +so long as he held the papers, it being outside the Eruv. His ankles +were giving way, and he sat down to have a look at the manuscript. + +"Aha! Writing!" he exclaimed as he turned the leaves. "Come here to me," +he called to Sholem, who had moved a few steps aside. Sholem came and +stood obediently before him. "What is this?" asked the Rav, sternly. + +"Poems!" + +"What do you mean by poems? What is the good of them?" He felt that he +was growing weak again, and tried to stiffen himself morally. "What is +the good of them, heretic, tell me!" + +"They're just meant to read, Tatishe!" + +"What do you mean by 'read'? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, that's what you +want to be, is it? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, to lead others into heresy! +No! I won't have it! On no account will I have it!" + +The sun had begun to disappear; it was full time to go home; but the Rav +did not know what to do with the folio. He was afraid to leave it in the +field, lest Sholem or another should pick it up later, so he got up and +began to recite the Afternoon Prayer. Sholem remained standing in his +place, and tried to think of nothing and to do nothing. + +The old man finished "Sacrifices," tucked the folio into his girdle, +and, without moving a step, looked at Sholem, who did not move either. + +"Say the Afternoon Prayer, Shegetz!" commanded the old man. + +Sholem began to move his lips. And the Rav felt, as he went on with the +prayer, that this anger was cooling down. Before he came to the +Eighteen Benedictions, he gave another look at his son, and it seemed +madness to think of him as a heretic, to think that Sholem ought by +rights to be thrown into a ditch and stoned to death. + +Sholem, for his part, was conscious for the first time of his father's +will: for the first time in his life, he not only loved his father, but +was in very truth subject to him. + +The flaming red sun dropt quietly down behind the horizon just before +the old man broke down with emotion over "Thou art One," and took the +sky and the earth to witness that God is One and His Name is One, and +His people Israel one nation on the earth, to whom He gave the Sabbath +for a rest and an inheritance. The Rav wept and swallowed his tears, and +his eyes were closed. Sholem, on the other hand, could not take his eye +off the manuscript that stuck out of his father's girdle, and it was all +he could do not to snatch it and run away. + +They said nothing on the way home in the dark, they might have been +coming from a funeral. But Sholem's heart beat fast, for he knew his +father would throw the manuscript into the fire, where it would be +burnt, and when they came to the door of their house, he stopped his +father, and said in a voice eloquent of tears: + +"Give it me back, Tatishe, please give it me back!" + +And the Rav gave it him back without looking him in the face, and said: + +"Look here, only don't tell Mother! She is ill, she mustn't be upset. +She is ill, not of you be it spoken!" + + + + +MEYER BLINKIN + + +Born, 1879, in a village near Pereyaslav, Government of Poltava, Little +Russia, of Hasidic parentage; educated in Kieff, where he acquired the +trade of carpenter in order to win the right of residence; studied +medicine; began to write in 1906; came to New York in 1908; writer of +stories to the number of about fifty, which have been published in +various periodicals; wrote also Der Sod, and Dr. Makower. + + + + +WOMEN + +A PROSE POEM + + +Hedged round with tall, thick woods, as though designedly, so that no +one should know what happens there, lies the long-drawn-out old town of +Pereyaslav. + +To the right, connected with Pereyaslav by a wooden bridge, lies another +bit of country, named--Pidvorkes. + +The town itself, with its long, narrow, muddy streets, with the crowded +houses propped up one against the other like tombstones, with their +meagre grey walls all to pieces, with the broken window-panes stuffed +with rags--well, the town of Pereyaslav was hardly to be distinguished +from any other town inhabited by Jews. + +Here, too, people faded before they bloomed. Here, too, men lived on +miracles, were fruitful and multiplied out of all season and reason. +They talked of a livelihood, of good times, of riches and pleasures, +with the same appearance of firm conviction, and, at the same time the +utter disbelief, with which one tells a legend read in a book. + +And they really supposed these terms to be mere inventions of the +writers of books and nothing more! For not only were they incapable of a +distinct conception of their real meaning, but some had even given up +the very hope of ever being able to earn so much as a living, and +preferred not to reach out into the world with their thoughts, straining +them for nothing, that is, for the sake of a thing so plainly out of +the question as a competence. At night the whole town was overspread by +a sky which, if not grey with clouds, was of a troubled and washed-out +blue. But the people were better off than by day. Tired out, +overwrought, exhausted, prematurely aged as they were, they sought and +found comfort in the lap of the dreamy, secret, inscrutable night. Their +misery was left far behind, and they felt no more grief and pain. + +An unknown power hid everything from them as though with a thick, damp, +stone wall, and they heard and saw nothing. + +They did not hear the weak voices, like the mewing of blind kittens, of +their pining children, begging all day for food as though on purpose--as +though they knew there was none to give them. They did not hear the +sighs and groans of their friends and neighbors, filling the air with +the hoarse sound of furniture dragged across the floor; they did not +see, in sleep, Death-from-hunger swing quivering, on threads of +spider-web, above their heads. + +Even the little fires that flickered feverishly on their hearths, and +testified to the continued existence of breathing men, even these they +saw no longer. Silence cradled everything to sleep, extinguished it, and +caused it to be forgotten. + +Hardly, however, was it dawn, hardly had the first rays pierced beneath +the closed eyelids, before a whole world of misery awoke and came to +life again. + +The frantic cries of hundreds of starving children, despairing +exclamations and imprecations and other piteous sounds filled the air. +One gigantic curse uncoiled and crept from house to house, from door to +door, from mouth to mouth, and the population began to move, to bestir +themselves, to run hither and thither. + +Half-naked, with parched bones and shrivelled skin, with sunken yet +burning eyes, they crawled over one another like worms in a heap, +fastened on to the bites in each other's mouth, and tore them away-- + +But this is summer, and they are feeling comparatively cheerful, bold, +and free in their movements. They are stifled and suffocated, they are +in a melting-pot with heat and exhaustion, but there are +counter-balancing advantages; one can live for weeks at a time without +heating the stove; indeed, it is pleasanter indoors without fire, and +lighting will cost very little, now the evenings are short. + +In winter it was different. An inclement sky, an enfeebled sun, a sick +day, and a burning, biting frost! + +People, too, were different. A bitterness came over them, and they went +about anxious and irritable, with hanging head, possessed by gloomy +despair. It never even occurred to them to tear their neighbor's bite +out of his mouth, so depressed and preoccupied did they become. The days +were months, the evenings years, and the weeks--oh! the weeks were +eternities! + +And no one knew of their misery but the winter wind that tore at their +roofs and howled in their all but smokeless chimneys like one bewitched, +like a lost soul condemned to endless wandering. + +But there were bright stars in the abysmal darkness; their one pride and +consolation were the Pidvorkes, the inhabitants of the aforementioned +district of that name. Was it a question of the upkeep of a Reader or of +a bath, the support of a burial-society, of a little hospital or refuge, +a Rabbi, of providing Sabbath loaves for the poor, flour for the +Passover, the dowry of a needy bride--the Pidvorkes were ready! The sick +and lazy, the poverty-stricken and hopeless, found in them support and +protection. The Pidvorkes! They were an inexhaustible well that no one +had ever found to fail them, unless the Pidvorke husbands happened to be +present, on which occasion alone one came away with empty hands. + +The fair fame of the Pidvorkes extended beyond Pereyaslav to all poor +towns in the neighborhood. Talk of husbands--they knew about the +Pidvorkes a hundred miles round; the least thing, and they pointed out +to their wives how they should take a lesson from the Pidvorke women, +and then they would be equally rich and happy. + +It was not because the Pidvorkes had, within their border, great, green +velvety hills and large gardens full of flowers that they had reason to +be proud, or others, to be proud of them; not because wide fields, +planted with various kinds of corn, stretched for miles around them, the +delicate ears swaying in sunshine and wind; not even because there +flowed round the Pidvorkes a river so transparent, so full of the +reflection of the sky, you could not decide which was the bluest of the +two. Pereyaslav at any rate was not affected by any of these things, +perhaps knew nothing of them, and certainly did not wish to know +anything, for whoso dares to let his mind dwell on the like, sins +against God. Is it a Jewish concern? A townful of men who have a God, +and religious duties to perform, with reward and punishment, who have +_that_ world to prepare for, and a wife and children in _this_ one, +people must be mad (of the enemies of Zion be it said!) to stare at the +sky, the fields, the river, and all the rest of it--things which a man +on in years ought to blush to talk about. + +No, they are proud of the Pidvorke women, and parade them continually. +The Pidvorke women are no more attractive, no taller, no cleverer than +others. They, too, bear children and suckle them, one a year, after the +good old custom; neither are they more thought of by their husbands. On +the contrary, they are the best abused and tormented women going, and +herein lies their distinction. + +They put up, with the indifference of all women alike, to the belittling +to which they are subjected by their husbands; they swallow their +contempt by the mouthful without a reproach, and yet they are +exceptions; and yet they are distinguished from all other women, as the +rushing waters of the Dnieper from the stagnant pools in the marsh. + +About five in the morning, when the men-folk turn in bed, and bury their +faces in the white feather pillows, emitting at the same time strange, +broken sounds through their big, stupid, red noses--at this early hour +their wives have transacted half-a-day's business in the market-place. +Dressed in short, light skirts with blue aprons, over which depends on +their left a large leather pocket for the receiving of coin and the +giving out of change--one cannot be running every minute to the +cash-box--they stand in their shops with miscellaneous ware, and toil +hard. They weigh and measure, buy and sell, and all this with wonderful +celerity. There stands one of them by herself in a shop, and tries to +persuade a young, barefoot peasant woman to buy the printed cotton she +offers her, although the customer only wants a red cotton with a large, +flowery pattern. She talks without a pause, declaring that the young +peasant may depend upon her, she would not take her in for the world, +and, indeed, to no one else would she sell the article so cheap. But +soon her eye catches two other women pursuing a peasant man, and before +even making out whether he has any wares with him or not, she leaves her +customer and joins them. If they run, she feels so must she. The peasant +is sure to be wanting grease or salt, and that may mean ten kopeks' +unexpected gain. Meantime she is not likely to lose her present +customer, fascinated as the latter must be by her flow of speech. + +So she leaves her, and runs after the peasant, who is already surrounded +by a score of women, shrieking, one louder than the other, praising +their ware to the skies, and each trying to make him believe that he and +she are old acquaintances. But presently the tumult increases, there is +a cry, "Cheap fowls, who wants cheap fowls?" Some rich landholder has +sent out a supply of fowls to sell, and all the women swing round +towards the fowls, keeping a hold on the peasant's cart with their left +hand, so that you would think they wanted to drag peasant, horse, and +cart along with them. They bargain for a few minutes with the seller of +fowls, and advise him not to be obstinate and to take their offers, else +he will regret it later. + +Suddenly a voice thunders, "The peasants are coming!" and they throw +themselves as for dear life upon the cart-loads of produce; they run as +though to a conflagration, get under each other's feet, their eyes +glisten as though they each wanted to pull the whole market aside. There +is a shrieking and scolding, until one or another gets the better of the +rest, and secures the peasant's wares. Then only does each woman +remember that she has customers waiting in her shop, and she runs in +with a beaming smile and tells them that, as they have waited so long, +they shall be served with the best and the most beautiful of her store. + +By eight o'clock in the morning, when the market is over, when they have +filled all the bottles left with them by their customers, counted up the +change and their gains, and each one has slipped a coin into her knotted +handkerchief, so that her husband should not know of its existence (one +simply must! One is only human--one is surely not expected to wrangle +with _him_ about every farthing?)--then, when there is nothing more to +be done in the shops, they begin to gather in knots, and every one tells +at length the incidents and the happy strokes of business of the day. +They have forgotten all the bad luck they wished each other, all the +abuse they exchanged, while the market was in progress; they know that +"Parnosseh is Parnosseh," and bear no malice, or, if they do, it is only +if one has spoken unkindly of another during a period of quiet, on a +Sabbath or a holiday. + +Each talks with a special enthusiasm, and deep in her sunken eyes with +their blue-black rings there burns a proud, though tiny, fire, as she +recalls how she got the better of a customer, and sold something which +she had all but thrown away, and not only sold it, but better than +usual; or else they tell how late their husbands sleep, and then imagine +their wives are still in bed, and set about waking them, "It's time to +get up for the market," and they at once pretend to be sleepy--then, +when they have already been and come back! + +And very soon a voice is heard to tremble with pleasant excitement, and +a woman begins to relate the following: + +"Just you listen to me: I was up to-day when God Himself was still +asleep."--"That is not the way to talk, Sheine!" interrupts a +second.--"Well, well, well?" (there is a good deal of curiosity). "And +what happened?"--"It was this way: I went out quietly, so that no one +should hear, not to wake them, because when Lezer went to bed, it was +certainly one o'clock. There was a dispute of some sort at the Rabbi's. +You can imagine how early it was, because I didn't even want to wake +Soreh, otherwise she always gets up when I do (never mind, it won't hurt +her to learn from her mother!). And at half past seven, when I saw there +were no more peasants coming in to market, I went to see what was going +on indoors. I heard my man calling me to wake up: 'Sheine, Sheine, +Sheine!' and I go quietly and lean against the bed, and wait to hear +what will happen next. 'Look here!--There is no waking her!--Sheine! +It's getting-up time and past! Are you deaf or half-witted? What's come +to you this morning?' I was so afraid I should laugh. I gave a jump and +called out, O woe is me, why ever didn't you wake me sooner? Bandit! +It's already eight o'clock!" + +Her hearers go off into contented laughter, which grows clearer, softer, +more contented still. Each one tells her tale of how _she_ was wakened +by her husband, and one tells this joke: Once, when her husband had +called to rouse her (he also usually woke her _after_ market), she +answered that on that morning she did not intend to get up for market, +that _he_ might go for once instead. This apparently pleases them still +better, for their laughter renews itself, more spontaneous and hearty +even than before. Each makes a witty remark, each feels herself in merry +mood, and all is cheerfulness. + +They would wax a little more serious only when they came to talk of +their daughters. A woman would begin by trying to recall her daughter's +age, and beg a second one to help her remember when the girl was born, +so that she might not make a mistake in the calculation. And when it +came to one that had a daughter of sixteen, the mother fell into a brown +study; she felt herself in a very, very critical position, because when +a girl comes to that age, one ought soon to marry her. And there is +really nothing to prevent it: money enough will be forthcoming, only let +the right kind of suitor present himself, one, that is, who shall insist +on a well-dowered bride, because otherwise--what sort of a suitor do you +call that? She will have enough to live on, they will buy a shop for +her, she is quite capable of managing it--only let Heaven send a young +man of acceptable parentage, so that one's husband shall have no need to +blush with shame when he is asked about his son-in-law's family and +connections. + +And this is really what they used to do, for when their daughters were +sixteen, they gave them in marriage, and at twenty the daughters were +"old," much-experienced wives. They knew all about teething, +chicken-pox, measles, and more besides, even about croup. If a young +mother's child fell ill, she hastened to her bosom crony, who knew a lot +more than she, having been married one whole year or two sooner, and got +advice as to what should be done. + +The other would make close inquiry whether the round swellings about the +child's neck increased in size and wandered, that is, appeared at +different times and different places, in which case it was positively +nothing serious, but only the tonsils. But if they remained in one place +and grew larger, the mother must lose no time, but must run to the +doctor. + +Their daughters knew that they needed to lay by money, not only for a +dowry, but because a girl ought to have money of her own. They knew as +well as their mothers that a bridegroom would present himself and ask a +lot of money (the best sign of his being the right sort!), and they +prayed God for the same without ceasing. + +No sooner were they quit of household matters than they went over to the +discussion of their connections and alliances--it was the greatest +pleasure they had. + +The fact that their children, especially their daughters, were so +discreet that not one (to speak in a good hour and be silent in a bad!) +had as yet ever (far be it from the speaker to think of such a thing!) +given birth to a bastard, as was known to happen in other places--this +was the crowning point of their joy and exultation. + +It even made up to them for the other fact, that they never got a good +word from their husbands for their hard, unnatural toil. + +And as they chat together, throwing in the remark that "the apple never +falls far from the tree," that their daughters take after them in +everything, the very wrinkles vanish from their shrivelled faces, a +spring of refreshment and blessedness wells up in their hearts, they are +lifted above their cares, a feeling of relaxation comes over them, as +though a soothing balsam had penetrated their strained and weary limbs. + +Meantime the daughters have secrets among themselves. They know a +quantity of interesting things that have happened in their quarter, but +no one else gets to know of them; they are imparted more with the eyes +than with the lips, and all is quiet and confidential. + +And if the great calamity had not now befallen the Pidvorkes, had it not +stretched itself, spread its claws with such an evil might, had the +shame not been so deep and dreadful, all might have passed off quietly +as always. But the event was so extraordinary, so cruelly unique--such a +thing had not happened since girls were girls, and bridegrooms, +bridegrooms, in the Pidvorkes--that it inevitably became known to all. +Not (preserve us!) to the men--they know of nothing, and need to know of +nothing--only to the women. But how much can anyone keep to oneself? It +will rise to the surface, and lie like oil on the water. + +From early morning on the women have been hissing and steaming, bubbling +and boiling over. They are not thinking of Parnosseh; they have +forgotten all about Parnosseh; they are in such a state, they have even +forgotten about themselves. There is a whole crowd of them packed like +herrings, and all fire and flame. But the male passer-by hears nothing +of what they say, he only sees the troubled faces and the drooping +heads; they are ashamed to look into one another's eyes, as though they +themselves were responsible for the great affliction. An appalling +misfortune, an overwhelming sense of shame, a yellow-black spot on their +reputation weighs them to the ground. Uncleanness has forced itself into +their sanctuary and defiled it; and now they seek a remedy, and means to +save themselves, like one drowning; they want to heal the plague spot, +to cover it up, so that no one shall find it out. They stand and think, +and wrinkle the brows so used to anxiety; their thoughts evolve rapidly, +and yet no good result comes of it, no one sees a way of escape out of +the terrifying net in which the worst of all evil has entangled them. +Should a stranger happen to come upon them now, one who has heard of +them, but never seen them, he would receive a shock. The whole of +Pidvorkes looks quite different, the women, the streets, the very sun +shines differently, with pale and narrow beams, which, instead of +cheering, seem to burden the heart. + +The little grey-curled clouds with their ragged edges, which have +collected somewhere unbeknown, and race across the sky, look down upon +the women, and whisper among themselves. Even the old willows, for whom +the news is no novelty, for many more and more complicated mysteries +have come to their knowledge, even they look sad, while the swallows, by +the depressed and gloomy air with which they skim the water, plainly +express their opinion, which is no other than this: God is punishing the +Pidvorkes for _their_ great sin, what time they carried fire in their +beaks, long ago, to destroy the Temple. + +God bears long with people's iniquity, but he rewards in full at the +last. + +The peasants driving slowly to market, unmolested and unobstructed, +neither dragged aside nor laid forcible hold of, were singularly +disappointed. They began to think the Jews had left the place. + +And the women actually forgot for very trouble that it was market-day. +They stood with hands folded, and turned feverishly to every newcomer. +What does she say to it? Perhaps she can think of something to advise. + +No one answered; they could not speak; they had nothing to say; they +only felt that a great wrath had been poured out on them, heavy as lead, +that an evil spirit had made its way into their life, and was keeping +them in a perpetual state of terror; and that, were they now to hold +their peace, and not make an end, God Almighty only knows what might +come of it! No one felt certain that to-morrow or the day after the same +thunderbolt might not fall on another of them. + +Somebody made a movement in the crowd, and there was a sudden silence, +as though all were preparing to listen to a weak voice, hardly louder +than stillness itself. Their eyes widened, their faces were contracted +with annoyance and a consciousness of insult. Their hearts beat faster, +but without violence. Suddenly there was a shock, a thrill, and they +looked round with startled gaze, to see whence it came, and what was +happening. And they saw a woman forcing her way frantically through the +crowd, her hands working, her lips moving as in fever, her eyes flashing +fire, and her voice shaking as she cried: "Come on and see me settle +them! First I shall thrash _him_, and then I shall go for _her_! We must +make a cinder-heap of them; it's all we can do." + +She was a tall, bony woman, with broad shoulders, who had earned for +herself the nickname Cossack, by having, with her own hands, beaten off +three peasants who wanted to strangle her husband, he, they declared, +having sold them by false weight--it was the first time he had ever +tried to be of use to her. + +"But don't shout so, Breindel!" begged a woman's voice. + +"What do you mean by 'don't shout'! Am I going to hold my tongue? Never +you mind, I shall take no water into my mouth. I'll teach them, the +apostates, to desecrate the whole town!" + +"But don't shout so!" beg several more. + +Breindel takes no notice. She clenches her right fist, and, fighting the +air with it, she vociferates louder than ever: + +"What has happened, women? What are you frightened of? Look at them, if +they are not all a little afraid! That's what brings trouble. Don't let +us be frightened, and we shall spare ourselves in the future. We shall +not be in terror that to-morrow or the day after (they had best not live +to hear of it, sweet Father in Heaven!) another of us should have this +come upon her!" + +Breindel's last words made a great impression. The women started as +though someone had poured cold water over them without warning. A few +even began to come forward in support of Breindel's proposal. Soreh Leoh +said: She advised going, but only to him, the bridegroom, and telling +him not to give people occasion to laugh, and not to cause distress to +her parents, and to agree to the wedding's taking place to-day or +to-morrow, before anything happened, and to keep quiet. + +"I say, he shall not live to see it; he shall not be counted worthy to +have us come begging favors of him!" cried an angry voice. + +But hereupon rose that of a young woman from somewhere in the crowd, and +all the others began to look round, and no one knew who it was speaking. +At first the young voice shook, then it grew firmer and firmer, so that +one could hear clearly and distinctly what was said: + +"You might as well spare yourselves the trouble of talking about a +thrashing; it's all nonsense; besides, why add to her parents' grief by +going to them? Isn't it bad enough for them already? If we really want +to do something, the best would be to say nothing to anybody, not to get +excited, not to ask anybody's help, and let us make a collection out of +our own pockets. Never mind! God will repay us twice what we give. Let +us choose out two of us, to take him the money quietly, so that no one +shall know, because once a whisper of it gets abroad, it will be carried +over seven seas in no time; you know that walls have ears, and streets, +eyes." + +The women had been holding their breath and looking with pleasurable +pride at young Malkehle, married only two months ago and already so +clever! The great thick wall of dread and shame against which they had +beaten their heads had retreated before Malkehle's soft words; they felt +eased; the world grew lighter again. Every one felt envious in her heart +of hearts of her to whose apt and golden speech they had just listened. +Everyone regretted that such an excellent plan had not occurred to +herself. But they soon calmed down, for after all it was a sister who +had spoken, one of their own Pidvorkes. They had never thought that +Malkehle, though she had been considered clever as a girl, would take +part in their debate; and they began to work out a plan for getting +together the necessary money, only so quietly that not a cock should +crow. + +And now their perplexities began! Not one of them could give such a +great sum, and even if they all clubbed together, it would still be +impossible. They could manage one hundred, two hundred, three hundred +rubles, but the dowry was six hundred, and now he says, that unless +they give one thousand, he will break off the engagement. What, says he, +there will be a summons out against him? Very likely! He will just risk +it. The question went round: Who kept a store in a knotted handkerchief, +hidden from her husband? They each had such a store, but were all the +contents put together, the half of the sum would not be attained, not by +a long way. + +And again there arose a tempest, a great confusion of women's tongues. +Part of the crowd started with fiery eloquence to criticise their +husbands, the good-for-nothings, the slouching lazybones; they proved +that as their husbands did nothing to earn money, but spent all their +time "learning," there was no need to be afraid of them; and if once in +a way they wanted some for themselves, nobody had the right to say them +nay. Others said that the husbands were, after all, the elder, one must +and should ask their advice! They were wiser and knew best, and why +should they, the women (might the words not be reckoned as a sin!), be +wiser than the rest of the world put together? And others again cried +that there was no need that they should divorce their husbands because a +girl was with child, and the bridegroom demanded the dowry twice over. + +The noise increased, till there was no distinguishing one voice from +another, till one could not make out what her neighbor was saying: she +only knew that she also must shriek, scold, and speak her mind. And who +knows what would have come of it, if Breindel-Cossack, with her powerful +gab, had not begun to shout, that she and Malkehle had a good idea, +which would please everyone very much, and put an end to the whole +dispute. + +All became suddenly dumb; there was a tense silence, as at the first of +the two recitals of the Eighteen Benedictions; the women only cast +inquiring looks at Malkehle and Breindel, who both felt their cheeks +hot. Breindel, who, ever since the wise Malkehle had spoken such golden +words, had not left her side, now stepped forward, and her voice +trembled with emotion and pleasant excitement as she said: "Malkehle and +I think like this: that we ought to go to Chavvehle, she being so wise +and so well-educated, a doctor's wife, and tell her the whole story from +beginning to end, so that she may advise us, and if you are ashamed to +speak to her yourselves, you should leave it to us two, only on the +condition that you go with us. Don't be frightened, she is kind; she +will listen to us." + +A faint smile, glistening like diamond dust, shone on all faces; their +eyes brightened and their shoulders straightened, as though just +released from a heavy burden. They all knew Chavvehle for a good and +gracious woman, who was certain to give them some advice; she did many +such kindnesses without being asked; she had started the school, and she +taught their children for nothing; she always accompanied her husband on +his visits to the sick-room, and often left a coin of her own money +behind to buy a fowl for the invalid. It was even said that she had +written about them in the newspapers! She was very fond of them. When +she talked with them, her manner was simple, as though they were her +equals, and she would ask them all about everything, like any plain +Jewish housewife. And yet they were conscious of a great distance +between them and Chavveh. They would have liked Chavveh to hear nothing +of them but what was good, to stand justified in her eyes as (ten times +lehavdil) in those of a Christian. They could not have told why, but the +feeling was there. + +They are proud of Chavveh; it is an honor for them each and all (and who +are they that they should venture to pretend to it?) to possess such a +Chavveh, who was highly spoken of even by rich Gentiles. Hence this +embarrassed smile at the mention of her name; she would certainly +advise, but at the same time they avoided each other's look. The wise +Malkeh had the same feeling, but she was able to cheer the rest. Never +mind! It doesn't matter telling her. She is a Jewish daughter, too, and +will keep it to herself. These things happen behind the "high windows" +also. Whereupon they all breathed more freely, and went up the hill to +Chavveh. They went in serried ranks, like soldiers, shoulder to +shoulder, relief and satisfaction reflected in their faces. All who met +them made way for them, stood aside, and wondered what it meant. Some of +their own husbands even stood and looked at the marching women, but not +one dared to go up to them and ask what was doing. Their object grew +dearer to them at every step. A settled resolve and a deep sense of +goodwill to mankind urged them on. They all felt that they were going in +a good cause, and would thereby bar the road to all such occurrences in +the future. + +The way to Chavveh was long. She lived quite outside the Pidvorkes, and +they had to go through the whole market-place with the shops, which +stood close to one another, as though they held each other by the hand, +and then only through narrow lanes of old thatched peasant huts, with +shy little window-panes. But beside nearly every hut stood a couple of +acacia-trees, and the foam-white blossoms among the young green leaves +gave a refreshing perfume to the neighborhood. Emerging from the +streets, they proceeded towards a pretty hill planted with +pink-flowering quince-trees. A small, clear stream flowed below it to +the left, so deceptively clear that it reflected the hillside in all its +natural tints. You had to go quite close in order to make sure it was +only a delusion, when the stream met your gaze as seriously as though +there were no question of _it_ at all. + +On the top of the hill stood Chavveh's house, adorned like a bride, +covered with creepers and quinces, and with two large lamps under white +glass shades, upheld in the right hands of two statues carved in white +marble. The distance had not wearied them; they had walked and conversed +pleasantly by the way, each telling a story somewhat similar to the one +that had occasioned their present undertaking. + +"Do you know," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "mine tried to play +me a trick with the dowry, too? It was immediately before the ceremony, +and he insisted obstinately that unless a silver box and fifty rubles +were given to him in addition to what had been promised to him, he would +not go under the marriage canopy!" + +"Well, if it hadn't been Zorah, it would have been Chayyim Treitel," +observed some one, ironically. + +They all laughed, but rather weakly, just for the sake of laughing; not +one of them really wished to part from her husband, even in cases where +he disliked her, and they quarrelled. No indignity they suffered at +their husbands' hands could hurt them so deeply as a wish on his part to +live separately. After all they are man and wife. They quarrel and make +it up again. + +And when they spied Chavvehle's house in the distance, they all cried +out joyfully, with one accord: + +"There is Chavvehle's house!" Once more they forgot about themselves; +they were filled with enthusiasm for the common cause, and with a pain +that will lie forever at their heart should they not do all that sinful +man is able. + +The wise Malkehle's heart beat faster than anyone's. She had begun to +consider how she should speak to Chavvehle, and although apt, incisive +phrases came into her head, one after another, she felt that she would +never be able to come out with them in Chavvehle's presence; were it not +for the other women's being there, she would have felt at her ease. + +All of a sudden a voice exclaimed joyfully, "There we are at the house!" +All lifted their heads, and their eyes were gladdened by the sight of +the tall flowers arranged about a round table, in the shelter of a +widely-branching willow, on which there shone a silver samovar. In and +out of the still empty tea-glasses there stole beams of the sinking sun, +as it dropt lower and lower behind the now dark-blue hill. + +"What welcome guests!" Chavveh met them with a sweet smile, and her eyes +awoke answering love and confidence in the women's hearts. + +Not a glance, not a movement betrayed surprise on Chavvehle's part, any +more than if she had been expecting them everyone. + +They felt that she was behaving like any sage, and were filled with a +sense of guilt towards her. + +Chavvehle excused herself to one or two other guests who were present, +and led the women into her summer-parlor, for she had evidently +understood that what they had come to say was for her ears only. + +They wanted to explain at once, but they couldn't, and the two who of +all found it hardest to speak were the selected spokeswomen, +Breindel-Cossack and Malkehle the wise. Chavvehle herself tried to lead +them out of their embarrassment. + +"You evidently have something important to tell me," she said, "for +otherwise one does not get a sight of you." + +And now it seemed more difficult than ever, it seemed impossible ever to +tell the angelic Chavvehle of the bad action about which they had come. +They all wished silently that their children might turn out one-tenth as +good as she was, and their impulse was to take Chavvehle into their +arms, kiss her and hug her, and cry a long, long time on her shoulder; +and if she cried with them, it would be so comforting. + +Chavvehle was silent. Her great, wide-open blue eyes grew more and more +compassionate as she gazed at the faces of her sisters; it seemed as +though they were reading for themselves the sorrowful secret the women +had come to impart. + +And the more they were impressed with her tactful behavior, and the more +they felt the kindness of her gaze, the more annoyed they grew with +themselves, the more tongue-tied they became. The silence was so intense +as to be almost seen and felt. The women held their breath, and only +exchanged roundabout glances, to find out what was going on in each +other's mind; and they looked first of all at the two who had undertaken +to speak, while the latter, although they did not see this, felt as if +every one's gaze was fixed upon them, wondering why they were silent and +holding all hearts by a thread. + +Chavvehle raised her head, and spoke sweetly: + +"Well, dear sisters, tell me a little of what it is about. Do you want +my help in any matter? I should be so glad----" + +"Dear sisters" she called them, and lightning-like it flashed through +their hearts that Chavveh was, indeed, their sister. How could they feel +otherwise when they had it from Chavveh herself? Was she not one of +their own people? Had she not the same God? True, her speech was a +little strange to them, and she was not overpious, but how should God be +angry with such a Chavveh as this? If it must be, let him punish _them_ +for her sin; they would willingly suffer in her place. + +The sun had long set; the sky was grey, save for one red streak, and the +room had grown dark. Chavvehle rose to light the candles, and the women +started and wiped their tearful eyes, so that Chavveh should not remark +them. Chavveh saw the difficulty they had in opening their hearts to +her, and she began to speak to them of different things, offered them +refreshment according to their several tastes, and now Malkehle felt a +little more courageous, and managed to say: + +"No, good, kind Chavvehle, we are not hungry. We have come to consult +with you on a very important matter!" + +And then Breindel tried hard to speak in a soft voice, but it sounded +gruff and rasping: + +"First of all, Chavveh, we want you to speak to us in Yiddish, not in +Polish. We are all Jewish women, thank God, together!" + +Chavvehle, who had nodded her head during the whole of Breindel's +speech, made another motion of assent with her silken eyebrows, and +replied: + +"I will talk Yiddish to you with pleasure, if that is what you prefer." + +"The thing is this, Chavvehle," began Shifreh, the wholesale dealer, "it +is a shame and a sorrow to tell, but when the thunderbolt has fallen, +one must speak. You know Rochel Esther Leoh's. She is engaged, and the +wedding was to have been in eight weeks--and now she, the +good-for-nothing, is with child--and he, the son of perdition, says now +that if he isn't given more than five hundred rubles, he won't take +her----" + +Chavvehle was deeply troubled by their words. She saw how great was +their distress, and found, to her regret, that she had little to say by +way of consolation. + +"I feel with you," she said, "in your pain. But do not be so dismayed. +It is certainly very bad news, but these things will happen, you are not +the first----" + +She wanted to say more, but did not know how to continue. + +"But what are we to do?" asked several voices at once. "That is what we +came to you for, dearie, for you to advise us. Are we to give him all +the money he asks, or shall they both know as much happiness as we know +what to do else? Or are we to hang a stone round our necks and drown +ourselves for shame? Give us some advice, dear, help us!" + +Then Chavvehle understood that it was not so much the women who were +speaking and imploring, as their stricken hearts, their deep shame and +grief, and it was with increased sympathy that she answered them: + +"What can I say to help you, dear sisters? You have certainly not +deserved this blow; you have enough to bear as it is--things ought to +have turned out quite differently; but now that the misfortune has +happened, one must be brave enough not to lose one's head, and not to +let such a thing happen again, so that it should be the first and last +time! But what exactly you should do, I cannot tell you, because I don't +know! Only if you should want my help or any money, I will give you +either with the greatest pleasure." + +They understood each other---- + +The women parted with Chavveh in great gladness, and turned towards home +conscious of a definite purpose. Now they all felt they knew just what +to do, and were sure it would prevent all further misfortune and +disgrace. + +They could have sung out for joy, embraced the hill, the stream, the +peasant huts, and kissed and fondled them all together. Mind you, they +had even now no definite plan of action, it was just Chavvehle's +sympathy that had made all the difference--feeling that Chavveh was +with them! Wrapped in the evening mist, they stepped vigorously and +cheerily homewards. + +Gradually the speed and the noise of their march increased, the air +throbbed, and at last a high, sharp voice rose above the rest, whereupon +they grew stiller, and the women listened. + +"I tell you what, we won't beat them. Only on Sabbath we must all come +together like one man, break into the house-of-study just before they +call up to the Reading of the Law, and not let them read till they have +sworn to agree to our sentence of excommunication! + +"She is right!" + +"Excommunicate him!" + +"Tear him in pieces!" + +"Let him be dressed in robe and prayer-scarf, and swear by the eight +black candles that he----" + +"Swear! Swear!" + +The noise was dreadful. No one was allowed to finish speaking. They were +all aflame with one fire of revenge, hate, and anger, and all alike +athirst for justice. Every new idea, every new suggestion was hastily +and hotly seized upon by all together, and there was a grinding of teeth +and a clenching of fists. Nature herself seemed affected by the tumult, +the clouds flew faster, the stars changed their places, the wind +whistled, the trees swayed hither and thither, the frogs croaked, there +was a great boiling up of the whole concern. + +"Women, women," cried one, "I propose that we go to the court of the +Shool, climb into the round millstones, and all shout together, so that +they may know what we have decided." + +"Right! Right! To the Shool!" cried a chorus of voices. + +A common feeling of triumph running through them, they took each other +friendly-wise by the hand, and made gaily for the court of the Shool. +When they got into the town, they fell on each other's necks, and kissed +each other with tears and joy. They knew their plan was the best and +most excellent that could be devised, and would protect them all from +further shame and trouble. + +The Pidvorkes shuddered to hear their tread. + +All the remaining inhabitants, big and little, men and women, gathered +in the court of the Shool, and stood with pale faces and beating hearts +to see what would happen. + +The eyes of the young bachelors rolled uneasily, the girls had their +faces on one another's shoulders, and sobbed. + +Breindel, agile as a cat, climbed on to the highest millstone, and +proclaimed in a voice of thunder: + +"Seeing that such and such a thing has happened, a great scandal such as +is not to be hid, and such as we do not wish to hide, all we women have +decided to excommunicate----" + +Such a tumult arose that for a minute or two Breindel could not be +heard, but it was not long before everyone knew who and what was meant. + +"We also demand that neither he nor his nearest friends shall be called +to the Reading of the Law; that people shall have nothing to do with +them till after the wedding!" + +"Nothing to do with them! Nothing to do with them!" shook the air. + +"That people shall not lend to them nor borrow of them, shall not come +within their four ells!" continued the voice from the millstone. + +"And _she_ shall be shut up till her time comes, so that no one shall +see her. Then we will take her to the burial-ground, and the child shall +be born in the burial-ground. The wedding shall take place by day, and +without musicians--" + +"Without musicians!" + +"Without musicians!" + +'Without musicians!" + +"Serve her right!" + +"She deserves worse!" + +A hundred voices were continually interrupting the speaker, and more +women were climbing onto the millstones, and shouting the same things. + +"On the wedding-day there will be great black candles burning throughout +the whole town, and when the bride is seated at the top of the +marriage-hall, with her hair flowing loose about her, all the girls +shall surround her, and the Badchen shall tell her, 'This is the way we +treat one who has not held to her Jewishness, and has blackened all our +faces----'" + +"Yes!" + +"Yes!" + +"So it is!" + +"The apostates!" + +The last words struck the hearers' hearts like poisoned arrows. A +deathly pallor, born of unrealized terror at the suggested idea, +overspread all their faces, their feelings were in a tumult of shame and +suffering. They thirsted and longed after their former life, the time +before the calamity disturbed their peace. Weary and wounded in spirit, +with startled looks, throbbing pulses, and dilated pupils, and with no +more than a faint hope that all might yet be well, they slowly broke the +stillness, and departed to their homes. + + + + +LOeB SCHAPIRO + + +Born, about 1880, in the Government of Kieff, Little Russia; came to +Chicago in 1906, and to New York for a short time in 1907-1908; now +(1912) in business in Switzerland; contributor to Die Zukunft, New York; +collected works, Novellen, 1 vol., Warsaw, 1910. + + + + +IF IT WAS A DREAM + + +Yes, it was a terrible dream! But when one is only nine years old, one +soon forgets, and Meyerl was nine a few weeks before it came to pass. + +Yes, and things had happened in the house every now and then to remind +one of it, but then Meyerl lived more out of doors than indoors, in the +wild streets of New York. Tartilov and New York--what a difference! New +York had supplanted Tartilov, effaced it from his memory. There remained +only a faint occasional recollection of that horrid dream. + +If it really _was_ a dream! + +It was this way: Meyerl dreamt that he was sitting in Cheder learning, +but more for show's sake than seriously, because during the Days of +Penitence, near the close of the session, the Rebbe grew milder, and +Cheder less hateful. And as he sat there and learnt, he heard a banging +of doors in the street, and through the window saw Jews running to and +fro, as if bereft of their senses, flinging themselves hither and +thither exactly like leaves in a gale, or as when a witch rises from the +ground in a column of dust, and whirls across the road so suddenly and +unexpectedly that it makes one's flesh creep. And at the sight of this +running up and down in the street, the Rebbe collapsed in his chair +white as death, his under lip trembling. + +Meyerl never saw him again. He was told later that the Rebbe had been +killed, but somehow the news gave him no pleasure, although the Rebbe +used to beat him; neither did it particularly grieve him. It probably +made no great impression on his mind. After all, what did it mean, +exactly? Killed? and the question slipped out of his head unanswered, +together with the Rebbe, who was gradually forgotten. + +And then the real horror began. They were two days hiding away in the +bath-house--he and some other little boys and a few older +people--without food, without drink, without Father and Mother. Meyerl +was not allowed to get out and go home, and once, when he screamed, they +nearly suffocated him, after which he sobbed and whimpered, unable to +stop crying all at once. Now and then he fell asleep, and when he woke +everything was just the same, and all through the terror and the misery +he seemed to hear only one word, Goyim, which came to have a very +definite and terrible meaning for him. Otherwise everything was in a +maze, and as far as seeing goes, he really saw nothing at all. + +Later, when they came out again, nobody troubled about him, or came to +see after him, and a stranger took him home. And neither his father nor +his mother had a word to say to him, any more than if he had just come +home from Cheder as on any other day. + +Everything in the house was broken, they had twisted his father's arm +and bruised his face. His mother lay on the bed, her fair hair tossed +about, and her eyes half-closed, her face pale and stained, and +something about her whole appearance so rumpled and sluttish--it +reminded one of a tumbled bedquilt. His father walked up and down the +room in silence, looking at no one, his bound arm in a white sling, and +when Meyerl, conscious of some invisible calamity, burst out crying, his +father only gave him a gloomy, irritated look, and continued to span the +room as before. + +In about three weeks' time they sailed for America. The sea was very +rough during the passage, and his mother lay the whole time in her +berth, and was very sick. Meyerl was quite fit, and his father did +nothing but pace the deck, even when it poured with rain, till they came +and ordered him down-stairs. + +Meyerl never knew exactly what happened, but once a Gentile on board the +ship passed a remark on his father, made fun of him, or something--and +his father drew himself up, and gave the other a look--nothing more than +a look! And the Gentile got such a fright that he began crossing +himself, and he spit out, and his lips moved rapidly. To tell the truth, +Meyerl was frightened himself by the contraction of his father's mouth, +the grind of his teeth, and by his eyes, which nearly started from his +head. Meyerl had never seen him look like that before, but soon his +father was once more pacing the deck, his head down, his wet collar +turned up, his hands in his sleeves, and his back slightly bent. + +When they arrived in New York City, Meyerl began to feel giddy, and it +was not long before the whole of Tartilov appeared to him like a dream. + +It was in the beginning of winter, and soon the snow fell, the fresh +white snow, and it was something like! Meyerl was now a "boy," he went +to "school," made snowballs, slid on the slides, built little fires in +the middle of the street, and nobody interfered. He went home to eat +and sleep, and spent what you may call his "life" in the street. + +In their room were cold, piercing draughts, which made it feel dreary +and dismal. Meyerl's father, a lean, large-boned man, with a dark, brown +face and black beard, had always been silent, and it was but seldom he +said so much as "Are you there, Tzippe? Do you hear me, Tzippe?" But now +his silence was frightening! The mother, on the other hand, used to be +full of life and spirits, skipping about the place, and it was +"Shloimeh!" here, and "Shloimeh!" there, and her tongue wagging merrily! +And suddenly there was an end of it all. The father only walked back and +forth over the room, and she turned to look after him like a child in +disgrace, and looked and looked as though forever wanting to say +something, and never daring to say it. There was something new in her +look, something dog-like! Yes, on my word, something like what there was +in the eyes of Mishke the dog with which Meyerl used to like playing +"over there," in that little town in dreamland. Sometimes Meyerl, waking +suddenly in the night, heard, or imagined he heard, his mother sobbing, +while his father lay in the other bed puffing at his cigar, but so hard, +it was frightening, because it made a little fire every time in the +dark, as though of itself, in the air, just over the place where his +father's black head must be lying. Then Meyerl's eyes would shut of +themselves, his brain was confused, and his mother and the glowing +sparks and the whole room sank away from him, and Meyerl dropped off to +sleep. + +Twice that winter his mother fell ill. The first time it lasted two +days, the second, four, and both times the illness was dangerous. Her +face glowed like an oven, her lower lip bled beneath her sharp white +teeth, and yet wild, terrifying groans betrayed what she was suffering, +and she was often violently sick, just as when they were on the sea. + +At those times she looked at her husband with eyes in which there was no +prayer. Mishke once ran a thorn deep into his paw, and he squealed and +growled angrily, and sucked his paw, as though he were trying to swallow +it, thorn and all, and the look in his eyes was the look of Meyerl's +mother in her pain. + +In those days his father, too, behaved differently, for, instead of +walking to and fro across the room, he ran, puffing incessantly at his +cigar, his brow like a thunder-cloud and occasional lightnings flashing +from his eyes. He never looked at his wife, and neither of them looked +at Meyerl, who then felt himself utterly wretched and forsaken. + +And--it is very odd, but--it was just on these occasions that Meyerl +felt himself drawn to his home. In the street things were as usual, but +at home it was like being in Shool during the Solemn Days at the blowing +of the ram's horn, when so many tall "fathers" stand with prayer-scarfs +over their heads, and hold their breath, and when out of the distance +there comes, unfolding over the heads of the people, the long, loud +blast of the Shofar. + +And both times, when his mother recovered, the shadow that lay on their +home had darkened, his father was gloomier than ever, and his mother, +when she looked at him, had a still more crushed and dog-like +expression, as though she were lying outside in the dust of the street. + +The snowfalls became rarer, then they ceased altogether, and there came +into the air a feeling of something new--what exactly, it would have +been hard for Meyerl to say. Anyhow it was something good, very good, +for everyone in the street was glad of it, one could see that by their +faces, which were more lightsome and gay. + +On the Eve of Passover the sky of home cleared a little too, street and +house joined hands through the windows, opened now for the first time +since winter set in, and this neighborly act of theirs cheered Meyerl's +heart. + +His parents made preparations for Passover, and poor little preparations +they were: there was no Matzes-baking with its merry to-do; a packet of +cold, stale Matzes was brought into the house; there was no pail of +beet-root soup in the corner, covered with a coarse cloth of unbleached +linen; no dusty china service was fetched from the attic, where it had +lain many years between one Passover and another; his father brought in +a dinner service from the street, one he had bought cheap, and of which +the pieces did not match. But the exhilaration of the festival made +itself felt for all that, and warmed their hearts. At home, in Tartilov, +it had happened once or twice that Meyerl had lain in his little bed +with open eyes, staring stock-still, with terror, into the silent +blackness of the night, and feeling as if he were the only living soul +in the whole world, that is, the whole house; and the sudden crow of a +cock would be enough on these occasions to send a warm current of relief +and security through his heart. + +His father's face looked a little more cheerful. In the daytime, while +he dusted the cups, his eyes had something pensive in them, but his lips +were set so that you thought: There, now, now they are going to smile! +The mother danced the Matzeh pancakes up and down in the kitchen, so +that they chattered and gurgled in the frying-pan. When a neighbor came +in to borrow a cooking pot, Meyerl happened to be standing beside his +mother. The neighbor got her pot, the women exchanged a few words about +the coming holiday, and then the neighbor said, "So we shall soon be +having a rejoicing at your house?" and with a wink and a smile she +pointed at his mother with her finger, whereupon Meyerl remarked for the +first time that her figure had grown round and full. But he had no time +just then to think it over, for there came a sound of broken china from +the next room, his mother stood like one knocked on the head, and his +father appeared in the door, and said: + +"Go!" + +His voice sent a quiver through the window-panes, as if a heavy wagon +were just crossing the bridge outside at a trot, the startled neighbor +turned, and whisked out of the house. + +Meyerl's parents looked ill at ease in their holiday garb, with the +faces of mourners. The whole ceremony of the Passover home service was +spoilt by an atmosphere of the last meal on the Eve of the Fast of the +Destruction of the Temple. And when Meyerl, with the indifferent voice +of one hired for the occasion, sang out the "Why is this night +different?" his heart shrank together; there was the same hush round +about him as there is in Shool when an orphan recites the first +"Sanctification" for his dead parents. + +His mother's lips moved, but gave forth no sound; from time to time she +wetted a finger with her tongue, and turned over leaf after leaf in her +service-book, and from time to time a large, bright tear fell, over her +beautiful but depressed face onto the book, or the white table-cloth, or +her dress. His father never looked at her. Did he see she was crying? +Meyerl wondered. Then, how strangely he was reciting the Haggadah! He +would chant a portion in long-drawn-out fashion, and suddenly his voice +would break, sometimes with a gurgle, as though a hand had seized him by +the throat and closed it. Then he would look silently at his book, or +his eye would wander round the room with a vacant stare. Then he would +start intoning again, and again his voice would break. + +They ate next to nothing, said grace to themselves in a whisper, after +which the father said: + +"Meyerl, open the door!" + +Not without fear, and the usual uncertainty as to the appearance of the +Prophet Elijah, whose goblet stood filled for him on the table, Meyerl +opened the door. + +"Pour out Thy wrath upon the Gentiles, who do not know Thee!" + +A slight shudder ran down between Meyerl's shoulders, for a strange, +quite unfamiliar voice had sounded through the room from one end to the +other, shot up against the ceiling, flung itself down again, and gone +flapping round the four walls, like a great, wild bird in a cage. Meyerl +hastily turned to look at his father, and felt the hair bristle on his +head with fright: straight and stiff as a screwed-up fiddle-string, +there stood beside the table a wild figure, in a snow-white robe, with a +dark beard, a broad, bony face, and a weird, black flame in the eyes. +The teeth were ground together, and the voice would go over into a +plaintive roar, like that of a hungry, bloodthirsty animal. His mother +sprang up from her seat, trembling in every limb, stared at him for a +few seconds, and then threw herself at his feet. Catching hold of the +edge of his robe with both hands, she broke into lamentation: + +"Shloimeh, Shloimeh, you'd better kill me! Shloimeh! kill me! oi, oi, +misfortune!" + +Meyerl felt as though a large hand with long fingernails had introduced +itself into his inside, and turned it upside down with one fell twist. +His mouth opened widely and crookedly, and a scream of childish terror +burst from his throat. Tartilov had suddenly leapt wildly into view, +affrighted Jews flew up and down the street like leaves in a storm, the +white-faced Rebbe sat in his chair, his under lip trembling, his mother +lay on her bed, looking all pulled about like a rumpled counterpane. +Meyerl saw all this as clearly and sharply as though he had it before +his eyes, he felt and knew that it was not all over, that it was only +just beginning, that the calamity, the great calamity, the real +calamity, was still to come, and might at any moment descend upon their +heads like a thunderbolt, only _what_ it was he did not know, or ask +himself, and a second time a scream of distraught and helpless terror +escaped his throat. + +A few neighbors, Italians, who were standing in the passage by the open +door, looked on in alarm, and whispered among themselves, and still the +wild curses filled the room, one minute loud and resonant, the next with +the spiteful gasping of a man struck to death. + +"Mighty God! Pour out Thy wrath on the peoples who have no God in their +hearts! Pour out Thy wrath upon the lands where Thy Name is unknown! 'He +has devoured, devoured my body, he has laid waste, laid waste my +house!'" + + "Thy wrath shall pursue them, + Pursue them--o'ertake them! + O'ertake them--destroy them, + From under Thy heavens!" + + + + +SHALOM ASCH + + +Born, 1881, in Kutno, Government of Warsaw, Russian Poland; Jewish +education and Hasidic surroundings; began to write in 1900, earliest +works being in Hebrew; Sippurim was published in 1903, and A Staedtel in +1904; wrote his first drama in 1905; distinguished for realism, love of +nature, and description of patriarchal Jewish life in the villages; +playwright; dramas: Gott von Nekomoh, Meschiach's Zeiten, etc.; +collected works, Schriften, Warsaw, 1908-1912 (in course of +publication). + + + + +A SIMPLE STORY + + +Feigele, like all young girls, is fond of dressing and decking herself +out. + +She has no time for these frivolities during the week, there is work in +plenty, no evil eye! and sewing to do; rent is high, and times are bad. +The father earns but little, and there is a deal wanting towards her +three hundred rubles dowry, beside which her mother trenches on it +occasionally, on Sabbath, when the family purse is empty. + +"There are as many marriageable young men as dogs, only every dog wants +a fat bone," comes into her head. + +She dislikes much thinking. She is a young girl and a pretty one. Of +course, one shouldn't be conceited, but when she stands in front of the +glass, she sees her bright face and rosy cheeks and the fall of her +black hair. But she soon forgets it all, as though she were afraid that +to rejoice in it might bring her ill-luck. + +Sabbath it is quite another thing--there is time and to spare, and on +Sabbath Feigele's toilet knows no end. + +The mother calls, "There, Feigele, that's enough! You will do very well +as you are." But what should old-fashioned women like her know about it? +Anything will do for them. Whether you've a hat and jacket on or not, +they're just as pleased. + +But a young girl like Feigele knows the difference. _He_ is sitting out +there on the bench, he, Eleazar, with a party of his mates, casting +furtive glances, which he thinks nobody sees, and nudging his neighbor, +"Look, fire and flame!" and she, Feigele, behaves as though unaware of +his presence, walks straight past, as coolly and unconcernedly as you +please, and as though Eleazar might look and look his eyes out after +her, take his own life, hang himself, for all _she_ cares. + +But, O Feigele, the vexation and the heartache when one fine day you +walk past, and he doesn't look at _you_, but at Malkeh, who has a new +hat and jacket that suit her about as well as a veil suits a dog--and +yet he looks at her, and you turn round again, and yet again, pretending +to look at something else (because it isn't proper), but you just glance +over your shoulder, and he is still looking after Malkeh, his whole face +shining with delight, and he nudges his mate, as to say, "Do you see?" O +Feigele, you need a heart of adamant, if it is not to burst in twain +with mortification! + +However, no sooner has Malkeh disappeared down a sidewalk, than he gets +up from the bench, dragging his mate along with him, and they follow, +arm-in-arm, follow Feigele like her shadow, to the end of the avenue, +where, catching her eye, he nods a "Good Sabbath!" Feigele answers with +a supercilious tip-tilt of her head, as much as to say, "It is all the +same to me, I'm sure; I'll just go down this other avenue for a change," +and, lo and behold, if she happens to look around, there is Eleazar, +too, and he follows, follows like a wearisome creditor. + +And then, O Feigele, such a lovely, blissful feeling comes over you. +Don't look, take no notice of him, walk ahead stiffly and firmly, with +your head high, let him follow and look at you. And he looks, and he +follows, he would follow you to the world's end, into the howling +desert. Ha, ha, how lovely it feels! + +But once, on a Sabbath evening, walking in the gardens with a girl +friend, and he following, Feigele turned aside down a dark path, and sat +down on a bench behind a bushy tree. + +He came and sat down, too, at the other end of the bench. + +Evening: the many branching trees overshadow and obscure, it grows dark, +they are screened and hidden from view. + +A breeze blows, lightly and pleasantly, and cools the air. + +They feel it good to be there, their hearts beat in the stillness. + +Who will say the first word? + +He coughs, ahem! to show that he is there, but she makes no sign, +implying that she neither knows who he is, nor what he wants, and has no +wish to learn. + +They are silent, they only hear their own beating hearts and the wind in +the leaves. + +"I beg your pardon, do you know what time it is?" + +"No, I don't," she replies stiffly, meaning, "I know quite well what you +are after, but don't be in such a hurry, you won't get anything the +sooner." + +The girl beside her gives her a nudge. "Did you hear that?" she +giggles. + +Feigele feels a little annoyed with her. Does the girl think _she_ is +the object? And she presently prepares to rise, but remains, as though +glued to the seat. + +"A beautiful night, isn't it?" + +"Yes, a beautiful evening." + +And so the conversation gets into swing, with a question from him and an +answer from her, on different subjects, first with fear and fluttering +of the heart, then they get closer one to another, and become more +confidential. When she goes home, he sees her to the door, they shake +hands and say, "Till we meet again!" + +And they meet a second and a third time, for young hearts attract each +other like a magnet. At first, of course, it is accidental, they meet by +chance in the company of two other people, a girl friend of hers and a +chum of his, and then, little by little, they come to feel that they +want to see each other alone, all to themselves, and they fix upon a +quiet time and place. + +And they met. + +They walked away together, outside the town, between the sky and the +fields, walked and talked, and again, conscious that the talk was an +artificial one, were even more gladly silent. Evening, and the last +sunbeams were gliding over the ears of corn on both sides of the way. +Then a breeze came along, and the ears swayed and whispered together, as +the two passed on between them down the long road. Night was gathering, +it grew continually darker, more melancholy, more delightful. + +"I have been wanting to know you for a long time, Feigele." + +"I know. You followed me like a shadow." + +They are silent. + +"What are you thinking about, Feigele?" + +"What are _you_ thinking about, Eleazar?" + +And they plunge once more into a deep converse about all sorts of +things, and there seems to be no reason why it should ever end. + +It grows darker and darker. + +They have come to walk closer together. + +Now he takes her hand, she gives a start, but his hand steals further +and further into hers. + +Suddenly, as dropt from the sky, he bends his face, and kisses her on +the cheek. + +A thrill goes through her, she takes her hand out of his and appears +rather cross, but he knows it is put on, and very soon she is all right +again, as if the incident were forgotten. + +An hour or two go by thus, and every day now they steal away and meet +outside the town. + +And Eleazar began to frequent her parents' house, the first time with an +excuse--he had some work for Feigele. And then, as people do, he came to +know when the work would be done, and Feigele behaved as though she had +never seen him before, as though not even knowing who he was, and +politely begged him to take a seat. + +So it came about by degrees that Eleazar was continually in and out of +the house, coming and going as he pleased and without stating any +pretext whatever. + +Feigele's parents knew him for a steady young man, he was a skilled +artisan earning a good wage, and they knew quite well why a young man +comes to the home of a young girl, but they feigned ignorance, thinking +to themselves, "Let the children get to know each other better, there +will be time enough to talk it over afterwards." + +Evening: a small room, shadows moving on the walls, a new table on which +burns a large, bright lamp, and sitting beside it Feigele sewing and +Eleazar reading aloud a novel by Shomer. + +Father and mother, tired out with a whole day's work, sleep on their +beds behind the curtain, which shuts off half the room. + +And so they sit, both of them, only sometimes Eleazar laughs aloud, +takes her by the hand, and exclaims with a smile, "Feigele!" + +"What do you want, silly?" + +"Nothing at all, nothing at all." + +And she sews on, thinking, "I have got you fast enough, but don't +imagine you are taking somebody from the street, just as she is; there +are still eighty rubles wanting to make three hundred in the bank." + +And she shows him her wedding outfit, the shifts and the bedclothes, of +which half lie waiting in the drawers. + + * * * * * + +They drew closer one to another, they became more and more intimate, so +that all looked upon them as engaged, and expected the marriage contract +to be drawn up any day. Feigele's mother was jubilant at her daughter's +good fortune, at the prospect of such a son-in-law, such a golden +son-in-law! + +Reb Yainkel, her father, was an elderly man, a worn-out peddler, bent +sideways with the bag of junk continually on his shoulder. + +Now he, too, has a little bit of pleasure, a taste of joy, for which God +be praised! + +Everyone rejoices, Feigele most of all, her cheeks look rosier and +fresher, her eyes darker and brighter. + +She sits at her machine and sews, and the whole room rings with her +voice: + + "Un was ich hob' gewollt, hob' ich ausgefuehrt, + Soll ich azoi leben! + Ich hob' gewollt a shenem Choson, + Hot' mir Gott gegeben." + +In the evening comes Eleazar. + +"Well, what are you doing?" + +"What should I be doing? Wait, I'll show you something." + +"What sort of thing?" + +She rises from her place, goes to the chest that stands in the stove +corner, takes something out of it, and hides it under her apron. + +"Whatever have you got there?" he laughs. + +"Why are you in such a hurry to know?" she asks, and sits down beside +him, brings from under her apron a picture in fine woolwork, Adam and +Eve, and shows it him, saying: + +"There, now you see! It was worked by a girl I know--for me, for us. I +shall hang it up in our room, opposite the bed." + +"Yours or mine?" + +"You wait, Eleazar! You will see the house I shall arrange for you--a +paradise, I tell you, just a little paradise! Everything in it will have +to shine, so that it will be a pleasure to step inside." + +"And every evening when work is done, we two shall sit together, side by +side, just as we are doing now," and he puts an arm around her. + +"And you will tell me everything, all about everything," she says, +laying a hand on his shoulder, while with the other she takes hold of +his chin, and looks into his eyes. + +They feel so happy, so light at heart. + +Everything in the house has taken on an air of kindliness, there is a +soft, attractive gloss on every object in the room, on the walls and the +table, the familiar things make signs to her, and speak to her as friend +to friend. + +The two are silent, lost in their own thoughts. + +"Look," she says to him, and takes her bank-book out of the chest, "two +hundred and forty rubles already. I shall make it up to three hundred, +and then you won't have to say, 'I took you just as you were.'" + +"Go along with you, you are very unjust, and I'm cross with you, +Feigele." + +"Why? Because I tell you the truth to your face?" she asks, looking into +his face and laughing. + +He turns his head away, pretending to be offended. + +"You little silly, are you feeling hurt? I was only joking, can't you +see?" + +So it goes on, till the old mother's face peeps out from behind the +curtain, warning them that it is time to go to rest, when the young +couple bid each other good-night. + + * * * * * + +Reb Yainkel, Feigele's father, fell ill. + +It was in the beginning of winter, and there was war between winter and +summer: the former sent a snowfall, the latter a burst of sun. The snow +turned to mud, and between times it poured with rain by the bucketful. + +This sort of weather made the old man ill: he became weak in the legs, +and took to his bed. + +There was no money for food, and still less for firing, and Feigele had +to lend for the time being. + +The old man lay abed and coughed, his pale, shrivelled face reddened, +the teeth showed between the drawn lips, and the blue veins stood out on +his temples. + +They sent for the doctor, who prescribed a remedy. + +The mother wished to pawn their last pillow, but Feigele protested, and +gave up part of her wages, and when this was not enough, she pawned her +jacket--anything sooner than touch the dowry. + +And he, Eleazar, came every evening, and they sat together beside the +well-known table in the lamplight. + +"Why are you so sad, Feigele?" + +"How can you expect me to be cheerful, with father so ill?" + +"God will help, Feigele, and he will get better." + +"It's four weeks since I put a farthing into the savings-bank." + +"What do you want to save for?" + +"What do I want to save for?" she asked with a startled look, as though +something had frightened her. "Are you going to tell me that you will +take me without a dowry?" + +"What do you mean by 'without a dowry'? You are worth all the money in +the world to me, worth my whole life. What do I want with your money? +See here, my five fingers, they can earn all we need. I have two +hundred rubles in the bank, saved from my earnings. What do I want with +more?" + +They are silent for a moment, with downcast eyes. "And your mother?" she +asks quietly. + +"Will you please tell me, are you marrying my mother or me? And what +concern is she of yours?" + +Feigele is silent. + +"I tell you again, I'll take you _just as you are_--and you'll take me +the same, will you?" + +She puts the corner of her apron to her eyes, and cries quietly to +herself. + +There is stillness around. The lamp sheds its brightness over the little +room, and casts their shadows onto the walls. + +The heavy sleeping of the old people is audible behind the curtain. + +And her head lies on his shoulder, and her thick black hair hides his +face. + +"How kind you are, Eleazar," she whispers through her tears. + +And she opens her whole heart to him, tells him how it is with them now, +how bad things are, they have pawned everything, and there is nothing +left for to-morrow, nothing but the dowry! + +He clasps her lovingly, and dries her cheeks with her apron end, saying: +"Don't cry, Feigele, don't cry. It will all come right. And to-morrow, +mind, you are to go to the postoffice, and take a little of the dowry, +as much as you need, until your father, God helping, is well again, and +able to earn something, and then...." + +"And then ..." she echoes in a whisper. + +"And then it will all come right," and his eyes flash into hers. "Just +as you are ..." he whispers. + +And she looks at him, and a smile crosses her face. + +She feels so happy, so happy. + + * * * * * + +Next morning she went to the postoffice for the first time with her +bank-book, took out a few rubles, and gave them to her mother. + +The mother sighed heavily, and took on a grieved expression; she +frowned, and pulled her head-kerchief down over her eyes. + +Old Reb Yainkel lying in bed turned his face to the wall. + +The old man knew where the money came from, he knew how his only child +had toiled for those few rubles. Other fathers gave money to their +children, and he took it-- + +It seemed to him as though he were plundering the two young people. He +had not long to live, and he was robbing them before he died. + +As he thought on this, his eyes glazed, the veins on his temple swelled, +and his face became suffused with blood. + +His head is buried in the pillow, and turns to the wall, he lies and +thinks these thoughts. + +He knows that he is in the way of the children's happiness, and he prays +that he may die. + +And she, Feigele, would like to come into a fortune all at once, to have +a lot of money, to be as rich as any great lady. + +And then suppose she had a thousand rubles now, this minute, and he came +in: "There, take the whole of it, see if I love you! There, take it, and +then you needn't say you love me for nothing, just as I am." + +They sit beside the father's bed, she and her Eleazar. + +Her heart overflows with content, she feels happier than she ever felt +before, there are even tears of joy on her cheeks. + +She sits and cries, hiding her face with her apron. + +He takes her caressingly by the hands, repeating in his kind, sweet +voice, "Feigele, stop crying, Feigele, please!" + +The father lies turned with his face to the wall, and the beating of his +heart is heard in the stillness. + +They sit, and she feels confidence in Eleazar, she feels that she can +rely upon him. + +She sits and drinks in his words, she feels him rolling the heavy stones +from off her heart. + +The old father has turned round and looked at them, and a sweet smile +steals over his face, as though he would say, "Have no fear, children, I +agree with you, I agree with all my heart." + +And Feigele feels so happy, so happy.... + + * * * * * + +The father is still lying ill, and Feigele takes out one ruble after +another, one five-ruble-piece after another. + +The old man lies and prays and muses, and looks at the children, and +holds his peace. + +His face gets paler and more wrinkled, he grows weaker, he feels his +strength ebbing away. + +Feigele goes on taking money out of the savings-bank, the stamps in her +book grow less and less, she knows that soon there will be nothing left. + +Old Reb Yainkel wishes in secret that he did not require so much, that +he might cease to hamper other people! + +He spits blood-drops, and his strength goes on diminishing, and so do +the stamps in Feigele's book. The day he died saw the last farthing of +Feigele's dowry disappear after the others. + + * * * * * + +Feigele has resumed her seat by the bright lamp, and sews and sews till +far into the night, and with every seam that she sews, something is +added to the credit of her new account. + +This time the dowry must be a larger one, because for every stamp that +is added to the account-book there is a new grey hair on Feigele's black +head. + + + + +A JEWISH CHILD + + +The mother came out of the bride's chamber, and cast a piercing look at +her husband, who was sitting beside a finished meal, and was making +pellets of bread crumbs previous to saying grace. + +"You go and talk to her! I haven't a bit of strength left!" + +"So, Rochel-Leoh has brought up children, has she, and can't manage +them! Why! People will be pointing at you and laughing--a ruin to your +years!" + +"To my years?! A ruin to _yours_! _My_ children, are they? Are they not +yours, too? Couldn't you stay at home sometimes to care for them and +help me to bring them up, instead of trapesing round--the black year +knows where and with whom?" + +"Rochel, Rochel, what has possessed you to start a quarrel with me now? +The bridegroom's family will be arriving directly." + +"And what do you expect me to do, Moishehle, eh?! For God's sake! Go in +to her, we shall be made a laughing-stock." + +The man rose from the table, and went into the next room to his +daughter. The mother followed. + +On the little sofa that stood by the window sat a girl about eighteen, +her face hidden in her hands, her arms covered by her loose, thick, +black hair. She was evidently crying, for her bosom rose and fell like a +stormy sea. On the bed opposite lay the white silk wedding-dress, the +Chuppeh-Kleid, with the black, silk Shool-Kleid, and the black stuff +morning-dress, which the tailor who had undertaken the outfit had +brought not long ago. By the door stood a woman with a black scarf round +her head and holding boxes with wigs. + +"Channehle! You are never going to do me this dishonor? to make me the +talk of the town?" exclaimed the father. The bride was silent. + +"Look at me, daughter of Moisheh Groiss! It's all very well for Genendel +Freindel's daughter to wear a wig, but not for the daughter of Moisheh +Groiss? Is that it?" + +"And yet Genendel Freindel might very well think more of herself than +you: she is more educated than you are, and has a larger dowry," put in +the mother. + +The bride made no reply. + +"Daughter, think how much blood and treasure it has cost to help us to a +bit of pleasure, and now you want to spoil it for us? Remember, for +God's sake, what you are doing with yourself! We shall be +excommunicated, the young man will run away home on foot!" + +"Don't be foolish," said the mother, took a wig out of a box from the +woman by the door, and approached her daughter. "Let us try on the wig, +the hair is just the color of yours," and she laid the strange hair on +the girl's head. + +The girl felt the weight, put up her fingers to her head, met among her +own soft, cool, living locks, the strange, dead hair of the wig, stiff +and cold, and it flashed through her, Who knows where the head to which +this hair belonged is now? A shuddering enveloped her, and as though +she had come in contact with something unclean, she snatched off the +wig, threw in onto the floor and hastily left the room. + +Father and mother stood and looked at each other in dismay. + + * * * * * + +The day after the marriage ceremony, the bridegroom's mother rose early, +and, bearing large scissors, and the wig and a hood which she had +brought from her home as a present for the bride, she went to dress the +latter for the "breakfast." + +But the groom's mother remained outside the room, because the bride had +locked herself in, and would open her door to no one. + +The groom's mother ran calling aloud for help to her husband, who, +together with a dozen uncles and brothers-in-law, was still sleeping +soundly after the evening's festivity. She then sought out the +bridegroom, an eighteen-year-old boy with his mother's milk still on his +lips, who, in a silk caftan and a fur cap, was moving about the room in +bewildered fashion, his eyes on the ground, ashamed to look anyone in +the face. In the end she fell back on the mother of the bride, and these +two went in to her together, having forced open the door between them. + +"Why did you lock yourself in, dear daughter. There is no need to be +ashamed." + +"Marriage is a Jewish institution!" said the groom's mother, and kissed +her future daughter-in-law on both cheeks. + +The girl made no reply. + +"Your mother-in-law has brought you a wig and a hood for the procession +to the Shool," said her own mother. + +The band had already struck up the "Good Morning" in the next room. + +"Come now, Kallehshi, Kalleh-leben, the guests are beginning to +assemble." + +The groom's mother took hold of the plaits in order to loosen them. + +The bride bent her head away from her, and fell on her own mother's +neck. + +"I can't, Mame-leben! My heart won't let me, Mame-kron!" + +She held her hair with both hands, to protect it from the other's +scissors. + +"For God's sake, my daughter? my life," begged the mother. + +"In the other world you will be plunged for this into rivers of fire. +The apostate who wears her own hair after marriage will have her locks +torn out with red hot pincers," said the other with the scissors. + +A cold shiver went through the girl at these words. + +"Mother-life, mother-crown!" she pleaded. + +Her hands sought her hair, and the black silky tresses fell through them +in waves. Her hair, the hair which had grown with her growth, and lived +with her life, was to be cut off, and she was never, never to have it +again--she was to wear strange hair, hair that had grown on another +person's head, and no one knows whether that other person was alive or +lying in the earth this long time, and whether she might not come any +night to one's bedside, and whine in a dead voice: + +"Give me back my hair, give me back my hair!" + +A frost seized the girl to the marrow, she shivered and shook. + +Then she heard the squeak of scissors over her head, tore herself out of +her mother's arms, made one snatch at the scissors, flung them across +the room, and said in a scarcely human voice: + +"My own hair! May God Himself punish me!" + +That day the bridegroom's mother took herself off home again, together +with the sweet-cakes and the geese which she had brought for the wedding +breakfast for her own guests. She wanted to take the bridegroom as well, +but the bride's mother said: "I will not give him back to you! He +belongs to me already!" + +The following Sabbath they led the bride in procession to the Shool +wearing her own hair in the face of all the town, covered only by a +large hood. + +But may all the names she was called by the way find their only echo in +some uninhabited wilderness. + + * * * * * + +A summer evening, a few weeks after the wedding: The young man had just +returned from the Stuebel, and went to his room. The wife was already +asleep, and the soft light of the lamp fell on her pale face, showing +here and there among the wealth of silky-black hair that bathed it. Her +slender arms were flung round her head, as though she feared that +someone might come by night to shear them off while she slept. He had +come home excited and irritable: this was the fourth week of his married +life, and they had not yet called him up to the Reading of the Law, the +Chassidim pursued him, and to-day Chayyim Moisheh had blamed him in the +presence of the whole congregation, and had shamed him, because _she_, +his wife, went about in her own hair. "You're no better than a clay +image," Reb Chayyim Moisheh had told him. "What do you mean by a woman's +saying she won't? It is written: 'And he shall rule over thee.'" + +And he had come home intending to go to her and say: "Woman, it is a +precept in the Torah! If you persist in wearing your own hair, I may +divorce you without returning the dowry," after which he would pack up +his things and go home. But when he saw his little wife asleep in bed, +and her pale face peeping out of the glory of her hair, he felt a great +pity for her. He went up to the bed, and stood a long while looking at +her, after which he called softly: + +"Channehle ... Channehle ... Channehle...." + +She opened her eyes with a frightened start, and looked round in sleepy +wonder: + +"Nosson, did you call? What do you want? + +"Nothing, your cap has slipped off," he said, lifting up the white +nightcap, which had fallen from her head. + +She flung it on again, and wanted to turn towards the wall. + +"Channehle, Channehle, I want to talk to you." + +The words went to her heart. The whole time since their marriage he had, +so to say, not spoken to her. During the day she saw nothing of him, for +he spent it in the house-of-study or in the Stuebel. When he came home to +dinner, he sat down to the table in silence. When he wanted anything, he +asked for it speaking into the air, and when really obliged to exchange +a word with her, he did so with his eyes fixed on the ground, too shy to +look her in the face. And now he said he wanted to talk to her, and in +such a gentle voice, and they two alone together in their room! + +"What do you want to say to me?" she asked softly. + +"Channehle," he began, "please, don't make a fool of me, and don't make +a fool of yourself in people's eyes. Has not God decreed that we should +belong together? You are my wife and I am your husband, and is it +proper, and what does it look like, a married woman wearing her own +hair?" + +Sleep still half dimmed her eyes, and had altogether clouded her thought +and will. She felt helpless, and her head fell lightly towards his +breast. + +"Child," he went on still more gently, "I know you are not so depraved +as they say. I know you are a pious Jewish daughter, and His blessed +Name will help us, and we shall have pious Jewish children. Put away +this nonsense! Why should the whole world be talking about you? Are we +not man and wife? Is not your shame mine?" + +It seemed to her as though _someone_, at once very far away and very +near, had come and was talking to her. Nobody had ever yet spoken to her +so gently and confidingly. And he was her husband, with whom she would +live so long, so long, and there would be children, and she would look +after the house! + +She leant her head lightly against him. + +"I know you are very sorry to lose your hair, the ornament of your +girlhood, I saw you with it when I was a guest in your home. I know +that God gave you grace and loveliness, I know. It cuts me to the heart +that your hair must be shorn off, but what is to be done? It is a rule, +a law of our religion, and after all we are Jews. We might even, God +forbid, have a child conceived to us in sin, may Heaven watch over and +defend us." + +She said nothing, but remained resting lightly in his arm, and his face +lay in the stream of her silky-black hair with its cool odor. In that +hair dwelt a soul, and he was conscious of it. He looked at her long and +earnestly, and in his look was a prayer, a pleading with her for her own +happiness, for her happiness and his. + +"Shall I?" ... he asked, more with his eyes than with his lips. + +She said nothing, she only bent her head over his lap. + +He went quickly to the drawer, and took out a pair of scissors. + +She laid her head in his lap, and gave her hair as a ransom for their +happiness, still half-asleep and dreaming. The scissors squeaked over +her head, shearing off one lock after the other, and Channehle lay and +dreamt through the night. + +On waking next morning, she threw a look into the glass which hung +opposite the bed. A shock went through her, she thought she had gone +mad, and was in the asylum! On the table beside her lay her shorn hair, +dead! + +She hid her face in her hands, and the little room was filled with the +sound of weeping! + + + + +A SCHOLAR'S MOTHER + + +The market lies foursquare, surrounded on every side by low, whitewashed +little houses. From the chimney of the one-storied house opposite the +well and inhabited by the baker, issues thick smoke, which spreads low +over the market-place. Beneath the smoke is a flying to and fro of white +pigeons, and a tall boy standing outside the baker's door is whistling +to them. + +Equally opposite the well are stalls, doors laid across two chairs and +covered with fruit and vegetables, and around them women, with +head-kerchiefs gathered round their weary, sunburnt faces in the hottest +weather, stand and quarrel over each other's wares. + +"It's certainly worth my while to stand quarrelling with _you_! A tramp +like you keeping a stall!" + +Yente, a woman about forty, whose wide lips have just uttered the above, +wears a large, dirty apron, and her broad, red face, with the composed +glance of the eyes under the kerchief, gives support to her words. + +"Do you suppose you have got the Almighty by the beard? He is mine as +well as yours!" answers Taube, pulling her kerchief lower about her +ears, and angrily stroking down her hair. + +A new customer approached Yente's stall, and Taube, standing by idle, +passed the time in vituperations. + +"What do I want with the money of a fine lady like you? You'll die like +the rest of us, and not a dog will say Kaddish for you," she shrieked, +and came to a sudden stop, for Taube had intended to bring up the +subject of her own son Yitzchokel, when she remembered that it is +against good manners to praise one's own. + +Yente, measuring out a quarter of pears to her customer, made answer: + +"Well, if you were a little superior to what you are, your husband +wouldn't have died, and your child wouldn't have to be ashamed of you, +as we all know he is." + +Whereon Taube flew into a rage, and shouted: + +"Hussy! The idea of my son being ashamed of me! May you be a sacrifice +for his littlest finger-nail, for you're not worthy to mention his +name!" + +She was about to burst out weeping at the accusation of having been the +cause of her husband's death and of causing her son to be ashamed of +her, but she kept back her tears with all her might in order not to give +pleasure to Yente. + +The sun was dropping lower behind the other end of the little town, Jews +were hurrying across the market-place to Evening Prayer in the +house-of-study street, and the Cheder-boys, just let out, began to +gather round the well. + +Taube collected her few little baskets into her arms (the door and the +chairs she left in the market-place; nobody would steal them), and with +two or three parting curses to the rude Yente, she quietly quitted the +scene. + +Walking home with her armful of baskets, she thought of her son +Yitzchokel. + +Yente's stinging remarks pursued her. It was not Yente's saying that she +had caused her husband's death that she minded, for everyone knew how +hard she had worked during his illness, it was her saying that +Yitzchokel was ashamed of her, that she felt in her "ribs." It occurred +to her that when he came home for the night, he never would touch +anything in her house. + +And thinking this over, she started once more abusing Yente. + +"Let her not live to see such a thing, Lord of the World, the One +Father!" + +It seemed to her that this fancy of hers, that Yitzchokel was ashamed of +her, was all Yente's fault, it was all her doing, the witch! + +"My child, my Yitzchokel, what business is he of yours?" and the cry +escaped her: + +"Lord of the World, take up my quarrel, Thou art a Father to the +orphaned, Thou shouldst not forgive her this!" + +"Who is that? Whom are you scolding so, Taube?" called out Necheh, the +rich man's wife, standing in the door of her shop, and overhearing +Taube, as she scolded to herself on the walk home. + +"Who should it be, housemistress, who but the hussy, the abortion, the +witch," answered Taube, pointing with one finger towards the +market-place, and, without so much as lifting her head to look at the +person speaking to her, she went on her way. + +She remembered, as she walked, how, that morning, when she went into +Necheh's kitchen with a fowl, she heard her Yitzchokel's voice in the +other room disputing with Necheh's boys over the Talmud. She knew that +on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his "day" at Necheh's table, and she had +taken the fowl there that day on purpose, so that her Yitzchokel should +have a good plate of soup, for her poor child was but weakly. + +When she heard her son's voice, she had been about to leave the kitchen, +and yet she had stayed. Her Yitzchokel disputing with Necheh's children? +What did they know as compared with him? Did they come up to his level? +"He will be ashamed of me," she thought with a start, "when he finds me +with a chicken in my hand. So his mother is a market-woman, they will +say, there's a fine partner for you!" But she had not left the kitchen. +A child who had never cost a farthing, and she should like to know how +much Necheh's children cost their parents! If she had all the money that +Yitzchokel ought to have cost, the money that ought to have been spent +on him, she would be a rich woman too, and she stood and listened to his +voice. + +"Oi, _he_ should have lived to see Yitzchokel, it would have made him +well." Soon the door opened, Necheh's boys appeared, and her Yitzchokel +with them. His cheeks flamed. + +"Good morning!" he said feebly, and was out at the door in no time. She +knew that she had caused him vexation, that he was ashamed of her before +his companions. + +And she asked herself: Her child, her Yitzchokel, who had sucked her +milk, what had Necheh to do with him? And she had poured out her +bitterness of heart upon Yente's head for this also, that her son had +cost her parents nothing, and was yet a better scholar than Necheh's +children, and once more she exclaimed: + +"Lord of the World! Avenge my quarrel, pay her out for it, let her not +live to see another day!" + +Passers-by, seeing a woman walking and scolding aloud, laughed. + +Night came on, the little town was darkened. + +Taube reached home with her armful of baskets, dragged herself up the +steps, and opened the door. + +"Mame, it's Ma-a-me!" came voices from within. + +The house was full of smoke, the children clustered round her in the +middle of the room, and never ceased calling out Mame! One child's voice +was tearful: "Where have you been all day?" another's more cheerful: +"How nice it is to have you back!" and all the voices mingled together +into one. + +"Be quiet! You don't give me time to draw my breath!" cried the mother, +laying down the baskets. + +She went to the fireplace, looked about for something, and presently the +house was illumined by a smoky lamp. + +The feeble shimmer lighted only the part round the hearth, where Taube +was kindling two pieces of stick--an old dusty sewing-machine beside a +bed, sign of a departed tailor, and a single bed opposite the lamp, +strewn with straw, on which lay various fruits, the odor of which filled +the room. The rest of the apartment with the remaining beds lay in +shadow. + +It is a year and a half since her husband, Lezer the tailor, died. While +he was still alive, but when his cough had increased, and he could no +longer provide for his family, Taube had started earning something on +her own account, and the worse the cough, the harder she had to toil, so +that by the time she became a widow, she was already used to supporting +her whole family. + +The eldest boy, Yitzchokel, had been the one consolation of Lezer the +tailor's cheerless existence, and Lezer was comforted on his death-bed +to think he should leave a good Kaddish behind him. + +When he died, the householders had pity on the desolate widow, collected +a few rubles, so that she might buy something to traffic with, and, +seeing that Yitzchokel was a promising boy, they placed him in the +house-of-study, arranged for him to have his daily meals in the houses +of the rich, and bade him pass his time over the Talmud. + +Taube, when she saw her Yitzchokel taking his meals with the rich, felt +satisfied. A weakly boy, what could _she_ give him to eat? There, at the +rich man's table, he had the best of everything, but it grieved her that +he should eat in strange, rich houses--she herself did not know whether +she had received a kindness or the reverse, when he was taken off her +hands. + +One day, sitting at her stall, she spied her Yitzchokel emerge from the +Shool-Gass with his Tefillin-bag under his arm, and go straight into the +house of Reb Zindel the rich, to breakfast, and a pang went through her +heart. She was still on terms, then, with Yente, because immediately +after the death of her husband everyone had been kind to her, and she +said: + +"Believe me, Yente, I don't know myself what it is. What right have I to +complain of the householders? They have been very good to me and to my +child, made provision for him in rich houses, treated him as if he were +_no_ market-woman's son, but the child of gentlefolk, and yet every day +when I give the other children their dinner, I forget, and lay a plate +for my Yitzchokel too, and when I remember that he has his meals at +other people's hands, I begin to cry." + +"Go along with you for a foolish woman!" answered Yente. "How would he +turn out if he were left to you? What is a poor person to give a child +to eat, when you come to think of it?" + +"You are right, Yente," Taube replied, "but when I portion out the +dinner for the others, it cuts me to the heart." + +And now, as she sat by the hearth cooking the children's supper, the +same feeling came over her, that they had stolen her Yitzchokel away. + +When the children had eaten and gone to bed, she stood the lamp on the +table, and began mending a shirt for Yitzchokel. + +Presently the door opened, and he, Yitzchokel, came in. + +Yitzchokel was about fourteen, tall and thin, his pale face telling out +sharply against his black cloak beneath his black cap. + +"Good evening!" he said in a low tone. + +The mother gave up her place to him, feeling that she owed him respect, +without knowing exactly why, and it was borne in upon her that she and +her poverty together were a misfortune for Yitzchokel. + +He took a book out of the case, sat down, and opened it. + +The mother gave the lamp a screw, wiped the globe with her apron, and +pushed the lamp nearer to him. + +"Will you have a glass of tea, Yitzchokel?" she asked softly, wishful to +serve him. + +"No, I have just had some." + +"Or an apple?" + +He was silent. + +The mother cleaned a plate, laid two apples on it, and a knife, and +placed it on the table beside him. + +He peeled one of the apples as elegantly as a grown-up man, repeated the +blessing aloud, and ate. + +When Taube had seen Yitzchokel eat an apple, she felt more like his +mother, and drew a little nearer to him. + +And Yitzchokel, as he slowly peeled the second apple, began to talk more +amiably: + +"To-day I talked with the Dayan about going somewhere else. In the +house-of-study here, there is nothing to do, nobody to study with, +nobody to ask how and where, and in which book, and he advises me to go +to the Academy at Makove; he will give me a letter to Reb Chayyim, the +headmaster, and ask him to befriend me." + +When Taube heard that her son was about to leave her, she experienced a +great shock, but the words, Dayan, Rosh-Yeshiveh, mekarev-sein, and +other high-sounding bits of Hebrew, which she did not understand, +overawed her, and she felt she must control herself. Besides, the words +held some comfort for her: Yitzchokel was holding counsel with her, with +her--his mother! + +"Of course, if the Dayan says so," she answered piously. + +"Yes," Yitzchokel continued, "there one can hear lectures with all the +commentaries; Reb Chayyim, the author of the book "Light of the Torah," +is a well-known scholar, and there one has a chance of getting to be +something decent." + +His words entirely reassured her, she felt a certain happiness and +exaltation, because he was her child, because she was the mother of such +a child, such a son, and because, were it not for her, Yitzchokel would +not be there at all. At the same time her heart pained her, and she grew +sad. + +Presently she remembered her husband, and burst out crying: + +"If only _he_ had lived, if only he could have had this consolation!" +she sobbed. + +Yitzchokel minded his book. + +That night Taube could not sleep, for at the thought of Yitzchokel's +departure the heart ached within her. + +And she dreamt, as she lay in bed, that some great Rabbis with tall fur +caps and long earlocks came in and took her Yitzchokel away from her; +her Yitzchokel was wearing a fur cap and locks like theirs, and he held +a large book, and he went far away with the Rabbis, and she stood and +gazed after him, not knowing, should she rejoice or weep. + +Next morning she woke late. Yitzchokel had already gone to his studies. +She hastened to dress the children, and hurried to the market-place. At +her stall she fell athinking, and fancied she was sitting beside her +son, who was a Rabbi in a large town; there he sits in shoes and socks, +a great fur cap on his head, and looks into a huge book. She sits at his +right hand knitting a sock, the door opens, and there appears Yente +carrying a dish, to ask a ritual question of Taube's son. + +A customer disturbed her sweet dream. + +After this Taube sat up whole nights at the table, by the light of the +smoky lamp, rearranging and mending Yitzchokel's shirts for the journey; +she recalled with every stitch that she was sewing for Yitzchokel, who +was going to the Academy, to sit and study, and who, every Friday, would +put on a shirt prepared for him by his mother. + +Yitzchokel sat as always on the other side of the table, gazing into a +book. The mother would have liked to speak to him, but she did not know +what to say. + +Taube and Yitzchokel were up before daylight. + +Yitzchokel kissed his little brothers in their sleep, and said to his +sleeping little sisters, "Remain in health"; one sister woke and began +to cry, saying she wanted to go with him. The mother embraced and +quieted her softly, then she and Yitzchokel left the room, carrying his +box between them. + +The street was still fast asleep, the shops were still closed, behind +the church belfry the morning star shone coldly forth onto the cold +morning dew on the roofs, and there was silence over all, except in the +market-place, where there stood a peasant's cart laden with fruit. It +was surrounded by women, and Yente's voice was heard from afar: + +"Five gulden and ten groschen,' and I'll take the lot!" + +And Taube, carrying Yitzchokel's box behind him, walked thus through the +market-place, and, catching sight of Yente, she looked at her with +pride. + +They came out behind the town, onto the highroad, and waited for an +"opportunity" to come by on its way to Lentschitz, whence Yitzchokel was +to proceed to Kutno. + +The sky was grey and cold, and mingled in the distance with the dingy +mist rising from the fields, and the road, silent and deserted, ran away +out of sight. + +They sat down beside the barrier, and waited for the "opportunity." + +The mother scraped together a few twenty-kopek-pieces out of her pocket, +and put them into his bosom, twisted up in his shirt. + +Presently a cart came by, crowded with passengers. She secured a seat +for Yitzchokel for forty groschen, and hoisted the box into the cart. + +"Go in health! Don't forget your mother!" she cried in tears. + +Yitzchokel was silent. + +She wanted to kiss her child, but she knew it was not the thing for a +grown-up boy to be kissed, so she refrained. + +Yitzchokel mounted the cart, the passengers made room for him among +them. + +"Remain in health, mother!" he called out as the cart set off. + +"Go in health, my child! Sit and study, and don't forget your mother!" +she cried after him. + +The cart moved further and further, till it was climbing the hill in the +distance. + +Taube still stood and followed it with her gaze; and not till it was +lost to view in the dust did she turn and walk back to the town. + +She took a road that should lead her past the cemetery. + +There was a rather low plank fence round it, and the gravestones were +all to be seen, looking up to Heaven. + +Taube went and hitched herself up onto the fence, and put her head over +into the "field," looking for something among the tombs, and when her +eyes had discovered a familiar little tombstone, she shook her head: + +"Lezer, Lezer! Your son has driven away to the Academy to study Torah!" + +Then she remembered the market, where Yente must by now have bought up +the whole cart-load of fruit. There would be nothing left for her, and +she hurried into the town. + +She walked at a great pace, and felt very pleased with herself. She was +conscious of having done a great thing, and this dissipated her +annoyance at the thought of Yente acquiring all the fruit. + +Two weeks later she got a letter from Yitzchokel, and, not being able to +read it herself, she took it to Reb Yochanan, the teacher, that he might +read it for her. + +Reb Yochanan put on his glasses, cleared his throat thoroughly, and +began to read: + +"Le-Immi ahuvossi hatzenuoh" ... + +"What is the translation?" asked Taube. + +"It is the way to address a mother," explained Reb Yochanan, and +continued. + +Taube's face had brightened, she put her apron to her eyes and wept for +joy. + +The reader observed this and read on. + +"What is the translation, the translation, Reb Yochanan?" the woman kept +on asking. + +"Never mind, it's not for you, you wouldn't understand--it is an +exposition of a passage in the Gemoreh." + +She was silent, the Hebrew words awed her, and she listened respectfully +to the end. + +"I salute Immi ahuvossi and Achoissai, Sarah and Goldeh, and Ochi Yakov; +tell him to study diligently. I have all my 'days' and I sleep at Reb +Chayyim's," gave out Reb Yochanan suddenly in Yiddish. + +Taube contented herself with these few words, took back the letter, put +it in her pocket, and went back to her stall with great joy. + +"This evening," she thought, "I will show it to the Dayan, and let him +read it too." + +And no sooner had she got home, cooked the dinner, and fed the children, +than she was off with the letter to the Dayan. + +She entered the room, saw the tall bookcases filled with books covering +the walls, and a man with a white beard sitting at the end of the table +reading. + +"What is it, a ritual question?" asked the Dayan from his place. + +"No." + +"What then?" + +"A letter from my Yitzchokel." + +The Dayan rose, came up and looked at her, took the letter, and began to +read it silently to himself. + +"Well done, excellent, good! The little fellow knows what he is saying," +said the Dayan more to himself than to her. + +Tears streamed from Taube's eyes. + +"If only _he_ had lived! if only he had lived!" + +"Shechitas chutz ... Rambam ... Tossafos is right ..." went on the +Dayan. + +"Her Yitzchokel, Taube the market-woman's son," she thought proudly. + +"Take the letter," said the Dayan, at last, "I've read it all through." + +"Well, and what?" asked the woman. + +"What? What do you want then?" + +"What does it say?" she asked in a low voice. + +"There is nothing in it for you, you wouldn't understand," replied the +Dayan, with a smile. + +Yitzchokel continued to write home, the Yiddish words were fewer every +time, often only a greeting to his mother. And she came to Reb Yochanan, +and he read her the Yiddish phrases, with which she had to be satisfied. +"The Hebrew words are for the Dayan," she said to herself. + +But one day, "There is nothing in the letter for you," said Reb +Yochanan. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Nothing," he said shortly. + +"Read me at least what there is." + +"But it is all Hebrew, Torah, you won't understand." + +"Very well, then, I _won't_ understand...." + +"Go in health, and don't drive me distracted." + +Taube left him, and resolved to go that evening to the Dayan. + +"Rebbe, excuse me, translate this into Yiddish," she said, handing him +the letter. + +The Dayan took the letter and read it. + +"Nothing there for you," he said. + +"Rebbe," said Taube, shyly, "excuse me, translate the Hebrew for me!" + +"But it is Torah, an exposition of a passage in the Torah. You won't +understand." + +"Well, if you would only read the letter in Hebrew, but aloud, so that I +may hear what he says." + +"But you won't understand one word, it's Hebrew!" persisted the Dayan, +with a smile. + +"Well, I _won't_ understand, that's all," said the woman, "but it's my +child's Torah, my child's!" + +The Dayan reflected a while, then he began to read aloud. + +Presently, however, he glanced at Taube, and remembered he was +expounding the Torah to a woman! And he felt thankful no one had heard +him. + +"Take the letter, there is nothing in it for you," he said +compassionately, and sat down again in his place. + +"But it is my child's Torah, my Yitzchokel's letter, why mayn't I hear +it? What does it matter if I don't understand? It is my own child!" + +The Dayan turned coldly away. + +When Taube reached home after this interview, she sat down at the table, +took down the lamp from the wall, and looked silently at the letter by +its smoky light. + +She kissed the letter, but then it occurred to her that she was defiling +it with her lips, she, a sinful woman! + +She rose, took her husband's prayer-book from the bookshelf, and laid +the letter between its leaves. + +Then with trembling lips she kissed the covers of the book, and placed +it once more in the bookcase. + + + + +THE SINNER + + +So that you should not suspect me of taking his part, I will write a +short preface to my story. + +It is written: "A man never so much as moves his finger, but it has been +so decreed from above," and whatsoever a man does, he fulfils God's +will--even animals and birds (I beg to distinguish!) carry out God's +wishes: whenever a bird flies, it fulfils a precept, because God, +blessed is He, formed it to fly, and an ox the same when it lows, and +even a dog when it barks--all praise God with their voices, and sing +hymns to Him, each after his manner. + +And even the wicked who transgresses fulfils God's will in spite of +himself, because why? Do you suppose he takes pleasure in transgressing? +Isn't he certain to repent? Well, then? He is just carrying out the will +of Heaven. + +And the Evil Inclination himself! Why, every time he is sent to persuade +a Jew to sin, he weeps and sighs: Woe is me, that I should be sent on +such an errand! + +After this little preface, I will tell you the story itself. + +Formerly, before the thing happened, he was called Reb Avrohom, but +afterwards they ceased calling him by his name, and said simply the +Sinner. + +Reb Avrohom was looked up to and respected by the whole town, a +God-fearing Jew, beloved and honored by all, and mothers wished they +might have children like him. + +He sat the whole day in the house-of-study and learned. Not that he was +a great scholar, but he was a pious, scrupulously observant Jew, who +followed the straight and beaten road, a man without any pride. He used +to recite the prayers in Shool together with the strangers by the door, +and quite quietly, without any shouting or, one may say, any special +enthusiasm. His prayer that rose to Heaven, the barred gates opening +before it till it entered and was taken up into the Throne of Glory, +this prayer of his did not become a diamond there, dazzling the eye, but +a softly glistening pearl. + +And how, you ask, did he come to be called the Sinner? On this wise: You +must know that everyone, even those who were hardest on him after the +affair, acknowledged that he was a great lover of Israel, and I will add +that his sin and, Heaven defend us, his coming to such a fall, all +proceeded from his being such a lover of Israel, such a patriot. + +And it was just the simple Jew, the very common folk, that he loved. + +He used to say: A Jew who is a driver, for instance, and busy all the +week with his horses and cart, and soaked in materialism for six days at +a stretch, so that he only just manages to get in his prayers--when he +comes home on Sabbath and sits down to table, and the bed is made, and +the candles burning, and his wife and children are round him, and they +sing hymns together, well, the driver dozing off over his prayer-book +and forgetting to say grace, I tell you, said Reb Avrohom, the Divine +Presence rests on his house and rejoices and says, "Happy am I that I +chose me out this people," for such a Jew keeps Sabbath, rests himself, +and his horse rests, keeps Sabbath likewise, stands in the stable, and +is also conscious that it is the holy Sabbath, and when the driver rises +from his sleep, he leads the animal out to pasture, waters it, and they +all go for a walk with it in the meadow. + +And this walk of theirs is more acceptable to God, blessed is He, than +repeating "Bless the Lord, O my soul." It may be this was because he +himself was of humble origin; he had lived till he was thirteen with his +father, a farmer, in an out-of-the-way village, and ignorant even of his +letters. True, his father had taken a youth into the house to teach him +Hebrew, but Reb Avrohom as a boy was very wild, wouldn't mind his book, +and ran all day after the oxen and horses. + +He used to lie out in the meadow, hidden in the long grasses, near him +the horses with their heads down pulling at the grass, and the view +stretched far, far away, into the endless distance, and above him spread +the wide sky, through which the clouds made their way, and the green, +juicy earth seemed to look up at it and say: "Look, sky, and see how +cheerfully I try to obey God's behest, to make the world green with +grass!" And the sky made answer: "See, earth, how I try to fulfil God's +command, by spreading myself far and wide!" and the few trees scattered +over the fields were like witnesses to their friendly agreement. And +little Avrohom lay and rejoiced in the goodness and all the work of God. +Suddenly, as though he had received a revelation from Heaven, he went +home, and asked the youth who was his teacher, "What blessing should +one recite on feeling happy at sight of the world?" The youth laughed, +and said: "You stupid boy! One says a blessing over bread and water, but +as to saying one over _this world_--who ever heard of such a thing?" + +Avrohom wondered, "The world is beautiful, the sky so pretty, the earth +so sweet and soft, everything is so delightful to look at, and one says +no blessing over it all!" + +At thirteen he had left the village and come to the town. There, in the +house-of-study, he saw the head of the Academy sitting at one end of the +table, and around it, the scholars, all reciting in fervent, appealing +tones that went to his heart. + +The boy began to cry, whereupon the head of the Academy turned, and saw +a little boy with a torn hat, crying, and his hair coming out through +the holes, and his boots slung over his shoulder, like a peasant lad +fresh from the road. The scholars laughed, but the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh +asked him what he wanted. + +"To learn," he answered in a low, pleading voice. + +The Rosh ha-Yeshiveh had compassion on him, and took him as a pupil. +Avrohom applied himself earnestly to the Torah, and in a few days could +read Hebrew and follow the prayers without help. + +And the way he prayed was a treat to watch. You should have seen him! He +just stood and talked, as one person talks to another, quietly and +affectionately, without any tricks of manner. + +Once the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh saw him praying, and said before his whole +Academy, "I can learn better than he, but when it comes to praying, I +don't reach to his ankles." That is what he said. + +So Reb Avrohom lived there till he was grown up, and had married the +daughter of a simple tailor. Indeed, he learnt tailoring himself, and +lived by his ten fingers. By day he sat and sewed with an open +prayer-book before him, and recited portions of the Psalms to himself. +After dark he went into the house-of-study, so quietly that no one +noticed him, and passed half the night over the Talmud. + +Once some strangers came to the town, and spent the night in the +house-of-study behind the stove. Suddenly they heard a thin, sweet voice +that was like a tune in itself. They started up, and saw him at his +book. The small lamp hanging by a cord poured a dim light upon him where +he sat, while the walls remained in shadow. He studied with ardor, with +enthusiasm, only his enthusiasm was not for beholders, it was all +within; he swayed slowly to and fro, and his shadow swayed with him, and +he softly chanted the Gemoreh. By degrees his voice rose, his face +kindled, and his eyes began to glow, one could see that his very soul +was resolving itself into his chanting. The Divine Presence hovered over +him, and he drank in its sweetness. And in the middle of his reading, he +got up and walked about the room, repeating in a trembling whisper, +"Lord of the World! O Lord of the World!" + +Then his voice grew as suddenly calm, and he stood still, as though he +had dozed off where he stood, for pure delight. The lamp grew dim, and +still he stood and stood and never moved. + +Awe fell on the travellers behind the stove, and they cried out. He +started and approached them, and they had to close their eyes against +the brightness of his face, the light that shone out of his eyes! And he +stood there quite quietly and simply, and asked in a gentle voice why +they had called out. Were they cold? + +And he took off his cloak and spread it over them. + +Next morning the travellers told all this, and declared that no sooner +had the cloak touched them than they had fallen asleep, and they had +seen and heard nothing more that night. After this, when the whole town +had got wind of it, and they found out who it was that night in the +house-of-study, the people began to believe that he was a Tzaddik, and +they came to him with Petitions, as Chassidim to their Rebbes, asking +him to pray for their health and other wants. But when they brought him +such a petition, he would smile and say: "Believe me, a little boy who +says grace over a piece of bread which his mother has given him, he can +help you more than twenty such as I." + +Of course, his words made no impression, except that they brought more +petitions than ever, upon which he said: + +"You insist on a man of flesh and blood such as I being your advocate +with God, blessed is He. Hear a parable: To what shall we liken the +thing? To the light of the sun and the light of a small lamp. You can +rejoice in the sunlight as much as you please, and no one can take your +joy from you; the poorest and most humble may revive himself with it, so +long as his eyes can behold it, and even though a man should sit, which +God forbid, in a dungeon with closed windows, a reflection will make +its way in through the chinks, and he shall rejoice in the brightness. +But with the poor light of a lamp it is otherwise. A rich man buys a +quantity of lamps and illumines his house, while a poor man sits in +darkness. God, blessed be He, is the great light that shines for the +whole world, reviving and refreshing all His works. The whole world is +full of His mercy, and His compassion is over all His creatures. Believe +me, you have no need of an advocate with Him; God is your Father, and +you are His dear children. How should a child need an advocate with his +father?" + +The ordinary folk heard and were silent, but our people, the Chassidim, +were displeased. And I'll tell you another thing, I was the first to +mention it to the Rebbe, long life to him, and he, as is well known, +commanded Reb Avrohom to his presence. + +So we set to work to persuade Reb Avrohom and talked to him till he had +to go with us. + +The journey lasted four days. + +I remember one night, the moon was wandering in a blue ocean of sky that +spread ever so far, till it mingled with a cloud, and she looked at us, +pitifully and appealingly, as though to ask us if we knew which way she +ought to go, to the right or to the left, and presently the cloud came +upon her, and she began struggling to get out of it, and a minute or two +later she was free again and smiling at us. + +Then a little breeze came, and stroked our faces, and we looked round to +the four sides of the world, and it seemed as if the whole world were +wrapped in a prayer-scarf woven of mercy, and we fell into a slight +melancholy, a quiet sadness, but so sweet and pleasant, it felt like on +Sabbath at twilight at the Third Meal. + +Suddenly Reb Avrohom exclaimed: "Jews, have you said the blessings on +the appearance of the new moon?" We turned towards the moon, laid down +our bundles, washed our hands in a little stream that ran by the +roadside, and repeated the blessings for the new moon. + +He stood looking into the sky, his lips scarcely moving, as was his +wont. "Sholom Alechem!" he said, turning to me, and his voice quivered +like a violin, and his eyes called to peace and unity. Then an awe of +Reb Avrohom came over me for the first time, and when we had finished +sanctifying the moon our melancholy left us, and we prepared to continue +our way. + +But still he stood and gazed heavenward, sighing: "Lord of the Universe! +How beautiful is the world which Thou hast made by Thy goodness and +great mercy, and these are over all Thy creatures. They all love Thee, +and are glad in Thee, and Thou art glad in them, and the whole world is +full of Thy glory." + +I glanced up at the moon, and it seemed that she was still looking at +me, and saying, "I'm lost; which way am I to go?" + +We arrived Friday afternoon, and had time enough to go to the bath and +to greet the Rebbe. + +He, long life to him, was seated in the reception-room beside a table, +his long lashes low over his eyes, leaning on his left hand, while he +greeted incomers with his right. We went up to him, one at a time, shook +hands, and said "Sholom Alechem," and he, long life to him, said +nothing to us. Reb Avrohom also went up to him, and held out his hand. + +A change came over the Rebbe, he raised his eyelids with his fingers, +and looked at Reb Avrohom for some time in silence. + +And Reb Avrohom looked at the Rebbe, and was silent too. + +The Chassidim were offended by such impertinence. + +That evening we assembled in the Rebbe's house-of-study, to usher in the +Sabbath. It was tightly packed with Jews, one pushing the other, or +seizing hold of his girdle, only beside the ark was there a free space +left, a semicircle, in the middle of which stood the Rebbe and prayed. + +But Reb Avrohom stood by the door among the poor guests, and prayed +after his fashion. + +"To Kiddush!" called the beadle. + +The Rebbe's wife, daughters, and daughters-in-law now appeared, and +their jewelry, their precious stones, and their pearls, sparkled and +shone. + +The Rebbe stood and repeated the prayer of Sanctification. + +He was slightly bent, and his grey beard swept his breast. His eyes were +screened by his lashes, and he recited the Sanctification in a loud +voice, giving to every word a peculiar inflection, to every sign an +expression of its own. + +"To table!" was called out next. + +At the head of the table sat the Rebbe, sons and sons-in-law to the +left, relations to the right of him, then the principal aged Jews, then +the rich. + +The people stood round about. + +The Rebbe ate, and began to serve out the leavings, to his sons and +sons-in-law first, and to the rest of those sitting at the table after. + +Then there was silence, the Rebbe began to expound the Torah. The +portion of the week was Numbers, chapter eight, and the Rebbe began: + +"When a man's soul is on a low level, enveloped, Heaven defend us, in +uncleanness, and the Divine spark within the soul wishes to rise to a +higher level, and cannot do so alone, but must needs be helped, it is a +Mitzveh to help her, to raise her, and this Mitzveh is specially +incumbent on the priest. This is the meaning of 'the seven lamps shall +give light over against the candlestick,' by which is meant the holy +Torah. The priest must bring the Jew's heart near to the Torah; in this +way he is able to raise it. And who is the priest? The righteous in his +generation, because since the Temple was destroyed, the saint must be a +priest, for thus is the command from above, that he shall be the +priest...." + +"Avrohom!" the Rebbe called suddenly, "Avrohom! Come here, I am calling +you." + +The other went up to him. + +"Avrohom, did you understand? Did you make out the meaning of what I +said? + +"Your silence," the Rebbe went on, "is an acknowledgment. I must raise +you, even though it be against my will and against your will." + +There was dead stillness in the room, people waiting to hear what would +come next. + +"You are silent?" asked the Rebbe, now a little sternly. + +"_You_ want to be a raiser of souls? Have _you_, bless and preserve us, +bought the Almighty for yourself? Do you think that a Jew can approach +nearer to God, blessed is He, through _you_? That _you_ are the 'handle +of the pestle' and the rest of the Jews nowhere? God's grace is +everywhere, whichever way we turn, every time we move a limb we feel +God! Everyone must seek Him in his own heart, because there it is that +He has caused the Divine Presence to rest. Everywhere and always can the +Jew draw near to God...." + +Thus answered Reb Avrohom, but our people, the Rebbe's followers, shut +his mouth before he had made an end, and had the Rebbe not held them +back, they would have torn him in pieces on the spot. + +"Leave him alone!" he commanded the Chassidim. + +And to Reb Avrohom he said: + +"Avrohom, you have sinned!" + +And from that day forward he was called the Sinner, and was shut out +from everywhere. The Chassidim kept their eye on him, and persecuted +him, and he was not even allowed to pray in the house-of-study. + +And I'll tell you what I think: A wicked man, even when he acts +according to his wickedness, fulfils God's command. And who knows? +Perhaps they were both right! + + + + +ISAAC DOB BERKOWITZ + + +Born, 1885, in Slutzk, Government of Minsk (Lithuania), White +Russia; was in America for a short time in 1908; contributor to Die +Zukunft; co-editor of Ha-Olam, Wilna; Hebrew and Yiddish writer; +collected works: Yiddish, Gesammelte Schriften, Warsaw, 1910; +Hebrew, Sippurim, Cracow, 1910. + + + + +COUNTRY FOLK + + +Feivke was a wild little villager, about seven years old, who had +tumbled up from babyhood among Gentile urchins, the only Jewish boy in +the place, just as his father Mattes, the Kozlov smith, was the only +Jewish householder there. Feivke had hardly ever met, or even seen, +anyone but the people of Kozlov and their children. Had it not been for +his black eyes, with their moody, persistent gaze from beneath the shade +of a deep, worn-out leather cap, it would have puzzled anyone to make +out his parentage, to know whence that torn and battered face, that red +scar across the top lip, those large, black, flat, unchild-like feet. +But the eyes explained everything--his mother's eyes. + +Feivke spent the whole summer with the village urchins in the +neighboring wood, picking mushrooms, climbing the trees, driving +wood-pigeons off their high nests, or wading knee-deep in the shallow +bog outside to seek the black, slippery bog-worms; or else he found +himself out in the fields, jumping about on the top of a load of hay +under a hot sky, and shouting to his companions, till he was bathed in +perspiration. At other times, he gathered himself away into a dark, cool +barn, scrambled at the peril of his life along a round beam under the +roof, crunched dried pears, saw how the sun sprinkled the darkness with +a thousand sparks, and--thought. He could always think about Mikita, the +son of the village elder, who had almost risen to be conductor on a +railway train, and who came from a long way off to visit his father, +brass buttons to his coat and a purse full of silver rubles, and piped +to the village girls of an evening on the most cunning kind of whistle. + +How often it had happened that Feivke could not be found, and did not +even come home to bed! But his parents troubled precious little about +him, seeing that he was growing up a wild, dissolute boy, and the +displeasure of Heaven rested on his head. + +Feivke was not a timid child, but there were two things he was afraid +of: God and davvening. Feivke had never, to the best of his +recollection, seen God, but he often heard His name, they threatened him +with It, glanced at the ceiling, and sighed. And this embittered +somewhat his sweet, free days. He felt that the older he grew, the +sooner he would have to present himself before this terrifying, stern, +and unfamiliar God, who was hidden somewhere, whether near or far he +could not tell. One day Feivke all but ran a danger. It was early on a +winter morning; there was a cold, wild wind blowing outside, and indoors +there was a black stranger Jew, in a thick sheepskin, breaking open the +tin charity boxes. The smith's wife served the stranger with hot +potatoes and sour milk, whereupon the stranger piously closed his eyes, +and, having reopened them, caught sight of Feivke through the white +steam rising from the dish of potatoes--Feivke, huddled up in a +corner--and beckoned him nearer. + +"Have you begun to learn, little boy?" he questioned, and took his cheek +between two pale, cold fingers, which sent a whiff of snuff up Feivke's +nose. His mother, standing by the stove, reddened, and made some +inaudible answer. The black stranger threw up his eyes, and slowly shook +his head inside the wide sheepskin collar. This shaking to and fro of +his head boded no good, and Feivke grew strangely cold inside. Then he +grew hot all over, and, for several nights after, thousands of long, +cold, pale fingers pursued and pinched him in his dreams. + +They had never yet taught him to recite his prayers. Kozlov was a lonely +village, far from any Jewish settlement. Every Sabbath morning Feivke, +snug in bed, watched his father put on a mended black cloak, wrap +himself in the Tallis, shut his eyes, take on a bleating voice, and, +turning to the wall, commence a series of bows. Feivke felt that his +father was bowing before God, and this frightened him. He thought it a +very rash proceeding. Feivke, in his father's place, would sooner have +had nothing to do with God. He spent most of the time while his father +was at his prayers cowering under the coverlet, and only crept out when +he heard his mother busy with plates and spoons, and the pungent smell +of chopped radishes and onions penetrated to the bedroom. + +Winters and summers passed, and Feivke grew to be seven years old, just +such a Feivke as we have described. And the last summer passed, and gave +way to autumn. + +That autumn the smith's wife was brought to bed of a seventh child, and +before she was about again, the cold, damp days were upon them, with the +misty mornings, when a fish shivers in the water. And the days of her +confinement were mingled for the lonely village Jewess with the Solemn +Days of that year into a hard and dreary time. She went slowly about the +house, as in a fog, without help or hope, and silent as a shadow. That +year they all led a dismal life. The elder children, girls, went out to +service in the neighboring towns, to make their own way among strangers. +The peasants had become sharper and worse than formerly, and the smith's +strength was not what it had been. So his wife resolved to send the two +men of the family, Mattes and Feivke, to a Minyan this Yom Kippur. +Maybe, if _two_ went, God would not be able to resist them, and would +soften His heart. + +One morning, therefore, Mattes the smith washed, donned his mended +Sabbath cloak, went to the window, and blinked through it with his red +and swollen eyes. It was the Eve of the Day of Atonement. The room was +well-warmed, and there was a smell of freshly-stewed carrots. The +smith's wife went out to seek Feivke through the village, and brought +him home dishevelled and distracted, and all of a glow. She had torn him +away from an early morning of excitement and delight such as could +never, never be again. Mikita, the son of the village elder, had put his +father's brown colt into harness for the first time. The whole +contingent of village boys had been present to watch the fiery young +animal twisting between the shafts, drawing loud breaths into its +dilated and quivering nostrils, looking wildly at the surrounding boys, +and stamping impatiently, as though it would have liked to plow away the +earth from under its feet. And suddenly it had given a bound and started +careering through the village with the cart behind it. There was a +glorious noise and commotion! Feivke was foremost among those who, in a +cloud of dust and at the peril of their life, had dashed to seize the +colt by the reins. + +His mother washed him, looked him over from the low-set leather hat down +to his great, black feet, stuffed a packet of food into his hands, and +said: + +"Go and be a good and devout boy, and God will forgive you." + +She stood on the threshold of the house, and looked after her two men +starting for a distant Minyan. The bearing of seven children had aged +and weakened the once hard, obstinate woman, and, left standing alone in +the doorway, watching her poor, barefoot, perverse-natured boy on his +way to present himself for the first time before God, she broke down by +the Mezuzeh and wept. + +Silently, step by step, Feivke followed his father between the desolate +stubble fields. It was a good ten miles' walk to the large village where +the Minyan assembled, and the fear and the wonder in Feivke's heart +increased all the way. He did not yet quite understand whither he was +being taken, and what was to be done with him there, and the impetus of +the brown colt's career through the village had not as yet subsided in +his head. Why had Father put on his black mended cloak? Why had he +brought a Tallis with him, and a white shirt-like garment? There was +certainly some hour of calamity and terror ahead, something was +preparing which had never happened before. + +They went by the great Kozlov wood, wherein every tree stood silent and +sad for its faded and fallen leaves. Feivke dropped behind his father, +and stepped aside into the wood. He wondered: Should he run away and +hide in the wood? He would willingly stay there for the rest of his +life. He would foregather with Nasta, the barrel-maker's son, he of the +knocked-out eye; they would roast potatoes out in the wood, and now and +again, stolen-wise, milk the village cows for their repast. Let them +beat him as much as they pleased, let them kill him on the spot, nothing +should induce him to leave the wood again! + +But no! As Feivke walked along under the silent trees and through the +fallen leaves, and perceived that the whole wood was filled through and +through with a soft, clear light, and heard the rustle of the leaves +beneath his step, a strange terror took hold of him. The wood had grown +so sparse, the trees so discolored, and he should have to remain in the +stillness alone, and roam about in the winter wind! + +Mattes the smith had stopped, wondering, and was blinking around with +his sick eyes. + +"Feivke, where are you?" + +Feivke appeared out of the wood. + +"Feivke, to-day you mustn't go into the wood. To-day God may yet--to-day +you must be a good boy," said the smith, repeating his wife's words as +they came to his mind, "and you must say Amen." + +Feivke hung his head and looked at his great, bare, black feet. "But if +I don't know how," he said sullenly. + +"It's no great thing to say Amen!" his father replied encouragingly. +"When you hear the other people say it, you can say it, too! Everyone +must say Amen, then God will forgive them," he added, recalling again +his wife and her admonitions. + +Feivke was silent, and once more followed his father step by step. What +will they ask him, and what is he to answer? It seemed to him now that +they were going right over away yonder where the pale, scarcely-tinted +sky touched the earth. There, on a hill, sits a great, old God in a +large sheepskin cloak. Everyone goes up to him, and He asks them +questions, which they have to answer, and He shakes His head to and fro +inside the sheepskin collar. And what is he, a wild, ignorant little +boy, to answer this great, old God? + +Feivke had committed a great many transgressions concerning which his +mother was constantly admonishing him, but now he was thinking only of +two great transgressions committed recently, of which his mother knew +nothing. One with regard to Anishka the beggar. Anishka was known to the +village, as far back as it could remember, as an old, blind beggar, who +went the round of the villages, feeling his way with a long stick. And +one day Feivke and another boy played him a trick: they placed a ladder +in his way, and Anishka stumbled and fell, hurting his nose. Some +peasants had come up and caught Feivke. Anishka sat in the middle of the +road with blood on his face, wept bitterly, and declared that God would +not forget his blood that had been spilt. The peasants had given the +little Zhydek a sound thrashing, but Feivke felt now as if that would +not count: God would certainly remember the spilling of Anishka's blood. + +Feivke's second hidden transgression had been committed outside the +village, among the graves of the peasants. A whole troop of boys, Feivke +in their midst, had gone pigeon hunting, aiming at the pigeons with +stones, and a stone of Feivke's had hit the naked figure on the cross +that stood among the graves. The Gentile boys had started and taken +fright, and those among them who were Feivke's good friends told him he +had actually hit the son of God, and that the thing would have +consequences; it was one for which people had their heads cut off. + +These two great transgressions now stood before him, and his heart +warned him that the hour had come when he would be called to account for +what he had done to Anishka and to God's son. Only he did not know what +answer he could make. + +By the time they came near the windmill belonging to the large strange +village, the sun had begun to set. The village river with the trees +beside it were visible a long way off, and, crossing the river, a long +high bridge. + +"The Minyan is there," and Mattes pointed his finger at the thatched +roofs shining in the sunset. + +Feivke looked down from the bridge into the deep, black water that lay +smooth and still in the shadow of the trees. The bridge was high and the +water deep! Feivke felt sick at heart, and his mouth was dry. + +"But, Tate, I won't be able to answer," he let out in despair. + +"What, not Amen? Eh, eh, you little silly, that is no great matter. +Where is the difficulty? One just ups and answers!" said his father, +gently, but Feivke heard that the while his father was trying to quiet +him, his own voice trembled. + +At the other end of the bridge there appeared the great inn with the +covered terrace, and in front of the building were moving groups of Jews +in holiday garb, with red handkerchiefs in their hands, women in yellow +silk head-kerchiefs, and boys in new clothes holding small prayer-books. +Feivke remained obstinately outside the crowd, and hung about the +stable, his black eyes staring defiantly from beneath the worn-out +leather cap. But he was not left alone long, for soon there came to him +a smart, yellow-haired boy, with restless little light-colored eyes, and +a face like a chicken's, covered with freckles. This little boy took a +little bottle with some essence in it out of his pocket, gave it a twist +and a flourish in the air, and suddenly applied it to Feivke's nose, so +that the strong waters spurted into his nostril. Then he asked: + +"To whom do you belong?" + +Feivke blew the water out of his nose, and turned his head away in +silence. + +"Listen, turkey, lazy dog! What are you doing there? Have you said +Minchah?" + +"N-no...." + +"Is the Jew in a torn cloak there your father?" + +"Y-yes ... T-tate...." + +The yellow-haired boy took Feivke by the sleeve. + +"Come along, and you'll see what they'll do to your father." + +Inside the room into which Feivke was dragged by his new friend, it was +hot, and there was a curious, unfamiliar sound. Feivke grew dizzy. He +saw Jews bowing and bending along the wall and beating their +breasts--now they said something, and now they wept in an odd way. +People coughed and spat sobbingly, and blew their noses with their red +handkerchiefs. Chairs and stiff benches creaked, while a continual +clatter of plates and spoons came through the wall. + +In a corner, beside a heap of hay, Feivke saw his father where he stood, +looking all round him, blinking shamefacedly and innocently with his +weak, red eyes. Round him was a lively circle of little boys whispering +with one another in evident expectation. + +"That is his boy, with the lip," said the chicken-face, presenting +Feivke. + +At the same moment a young man came up to Mattes. He wore a white collar +without a tie and with a pointed brass stud. This young man held a whip, +which he brandished in the air like a rider about to mount his horse. + +"Well, Reb Smith." + +"Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?" asked Mattes, subserviently, +still smiling round in the same shy and yet confiding manner. + +"Be so good as to lie down." + +The young man gave a mischievous look at the boys, and made a gesture in +the air with the whip. + +Mattes began to unbutton his cloak, and slowly and cautiously let +himself down onto the hay, whereupon the young man applied the whip with +might and main, and his whole face shone. + +"One, two, three! Go on, Rebbe, go on!" urged the boys, and there were +shouts of laughter. + +Feivke looked on in amaze. He wanted to go and take his father by the +sleeve, make him get up and escape, but just then Mattes raised himself +to a sitting posture, and began to rub his eyes with the same shy smile. + +"Now, Rebbe, this one!" and the yellow-haired boy began to drag Feivke +towards the hay. The others assisted. Feivke got very red, and silently +tried to tear himself out of the boy's hands, making for the door, but +the other kept his hold. In the doorway Feivke glared at him with his +obstinate black eyes, and said: + +"I'll knock your teeth out!" + +"Mine? You? You booby, you lazy thing! This is _our_ house! Do you know, +on New Year's Eve I went with my grandfather to the town! I shall call +Leibrutz. He'll give you something to remember him by!" + +And Leibrutz was not long in joining them. He was the inn driver, a +stout youth of fifteen, in a peasant smock with a collar stitched in +red, otherwise in full array, with linen socks and a handsome bottle of +strong waters against faintness in his hands. To judge by the size of +the bottle, his sturdy looks belied a peculiarly delicate constitution. +He pushed towards Feivke with one shoulder, in no friendly fashion, and +looked at him with one eye, while he winked with the other at the +freckled grandson of the host. + +"Who is the beauty?" + +"How should I know? A thief most likely. The Kozlov smith's boy. He +threatened to knock out my teeth." + +"So, so, dear brother mine!" sang out Leibrutz, with a cold sneer, and +passed his five fingers across Feivke's nose. "We must rub a little +horseradish under his eyes, and he'll weep like a beaver. Listen, you +Kozlov urchin, you just keep your hands in your pockets, because +Leibrutz is here! Do you know Leibrutz? Lucky for you that I have a +Jewish heart: to-day is Yom Kippur." + +But the chicken-faced boy was not pacified. + +"Did you ever see such a lip? And then he comes to our house and wants +to fight us!" + +The whole lot of boys now encircled Feivke with teasing and laughter, +and he stood barefooted in their midst, looking at none of them, and +reminding one of a little wild animal caught and tormented. + +It grew dark, and quantities of soul-lights were set burning down the +long tables of the inn. The large building was packed with red-faced, +perspiring Jews, in flowing white robes and Tallesim. The Confession was +already in course of fervent recital, there was a great rocking and +swaying over the prayer-books and a loud noise in the ears, everyone +present trying to make himself heard above the rest. Village Jews are +simple and ignorant, they know nothing of "silent prayer" and whispering +with the lips. They are deprived of prayer in common a year at a time, +and are distant from the Lord of All, and when the Awful Day comes, they +want to take Him by storm, by violence. The noisiest of all was the +prayer-leader himself, the young man with the white collar and no tie. +He was from town, and wished to convince the country folk that he was an +adept at his profession and to be relied on. Feivke stood in the +stifling room utterly confounded. The prayers and the wailful chanting +passed over his head like waves, his heart was straitened, red sparks +whirled before his eyes. He was in a state of continual apprehension. He +saw a snow-white old Jew come out of a corner with a scroll of the Torah +wrapped in a white velvet, gold-embroidered cover. How the gold sparkled +and twinkled and reflected itself in the illuminated beard of the old +man! Feivke thought the moment had come, but he saw it all as through a +mist, a long way off, to the sound of the wailful chanting, and as in a +mist the scroll and the old man vanished together. Feivke's face and +body were flushed with heat, his knees shook, and at the same time his +hands and feet were cold as ice. + +Once, while Feivke was standing by the table facing the bright flames of +the soul-lights, a dizziness came over him, and he closed his eyes. +Thousands of little bells seemed to ring in his ears. Then some one gave +a loud thump on the table, and there was silence all around. Feivke +started and opened his eyes. The sudden stillness frightened him, and he +wanted to move away from the table, but he was walled in by men in white +robes, who had begun rocking and swaying anew. One of them pushed a +prayer-book towards him, with great black letters, which hopped and +fluttered to Feivke's eyes like so many little black birds. + +He shook visibly, and the men looked at him in silence: "Nu-nu, nu-nu!" +He remained for some time squeezed against the prayer-book, hemmed in by +the tall, strange men in robes swaying and praying over his head. A cold +perspiration broke out over him, and when at last he freed himself, he +felt very tired and weak. Having found his way to a corner close to his +father, he fell asleep on the floor. + +There he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he was a tree, growing like +any other tree in a wood, and that he saw Anishka coming along with +blood on his face, in one hand his long stick, and in the other a +stone--and Feivke recognized the stone with which he had hit the +crucifix. And Anishka kept turning his head and making signs to some one +with his long stick, calling out to him that here was Feivke. Feivke +looked hard, and there in the depths of the wood was God Himself, white +all over, like freshly-fallen snow. And God suddenly grew ever so tall, +and looked down at Feivke. Feivke felt God looking at him, but he could +not see God, because there was a mist before his eyes. And Anishka came +nearer and nearer with the stone in his hand. Feivke shook, and cold +perspiration oozed out all over him. He wanted to run away, but he +seemed to be growing there like a tree, like all the other trees of the +wood. + +Feivke awoke on the floor, amid sleeping men, and the first thing he saw +was a tall, barefoot person all in white, standing over the sleepers +with something in his hand. This tall, white figure sank slowly onto its +knees, and, bending silently over Mattes the smith, who lay snoring +with the rest, it deliberately put a bottle to his nose. Mattes gave a +squeal, and sat up hastily. + +"Ha, who is it?" he asked in alarm. + +It was the young man from town, the prayer-leader, with a bottle of +strong smelling-salts. + +"It is I," he said with a _degage_ air, and smiled. "Never mind, it will +do you good! You are fasting, and there is an express law in the Chayye +Odom on the subject." + +"But why me?" complained Mattes, blinking at him reproachfully. "What +have I done to you?" + +Day was about to dawn. The air in the room had cooled down; the +soul-lights were still playing in the dark, dewy window-panes. A few of +the men bedded in the hay on the floor were waking up. Feivke stood in +the middle of the room with staring eyes. The young man with the +smelling-bottle came up to him with a lively air. + +"O you little object! What are you staring at me for? Do you want a +sniff? There, then, sniff!" + +Feivke retreated into a corner, and continued to stare at him in +bewilderment. + +No sooner was it day, than the davvening recommenced with all the fervor +of the night before, the room was as noisy, and very soon nearly as hot. +But it had not the same effect on Feivke as yesterday, and he was no +longer frightened of Anishka and the stone--the whole dream had +dissolved into thin air. When they once more brought out the scroll of +the Law in its white mantle, Feivke was standing by the table, and +looked on indifferently while they uncovered the black, shining, crowded +letters. He looked indifferently at the young man from town swaying over +the Torah, out of which he read fluently, intoning with a strangely free +and easy manner, like an adept to whom all this was nothing new. +Whenever he stopped reading, he threw back his head, and looked down at +the people with a bright, satisfied smile. + +The little boys roamed up and down the room in socks, with +smelling-salts in their hands, or yawned into their little prayer-books. +The air was filled with the dust of the trampled hay. The sun looked in +at a window, and the soul-lights grew dim as in a mist. It seemed to +Feivke he had been at the Minyan a long, long time, and he felt as +though some great misfortune had befallen him. Fear and wonder continued +to oppress him, but not the fear and wonder of yesterday. He was tired, +his body burning, while his feet were contracted with cold. He got away +outside, stretched himself out on the grass behind the inn and dozed, +facing the sun. He dozed there through a good part of the day. Bright +red rivers flowed before his eyes, and they made his brains ache. Some +one, he did not know who, stood over him, and never stopped rocking to +and fro and reciting prayers. Then--it was his father bending over him +with a rather troubled look, and waking him in a strangely gentle voice: + +"Well, Feivke, are you asleep? You've had nothing to eat to-day yet?" + +"No...." + +Feivke followed his father back into the house on his unsteady feet. +Weary Jews with pale and lengthened noses were resting on the terrace +and the benches. The sun was already low down over the village and +shining full into the inn windows. Feivke stood by one of the windows +with his father, and his head swam from the bright light. Mattes stroked +his chin-beard continually, then there was more davvening and more +rocking while they recited the Eighteen Benedictions. The Benedictions +ended, the young man began to trill, but in a weaker voice and without +charm. He was sick of the whole thing, and kept on in the half-hearted +way with which one does a favor. Mattes forgot to look at his +prayer-book, and, standing in the window, gazed at the tree-tops, which +had caught fire in the rays of the setting sun. Nobody was expecting +anything of him, when he suddenly gave a sob, so loud and so piteous +that all turned and looked at him in astonishment. Some of the people +laughed. The prayer-leader had just intoned "Michael on the right hand +uttereth praise," out of the Afternoon Service. What was there to cry +about in that? All the little boys had assembled round Mattes the smith, +and were choking with laughter, and a certain youth, the host's new +son-in-law, gave a twitch to Mattes' Tallis: + +"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!" + +Mattes answered not a word. The little fellow with the freckles pushed +his way up to him, and imitating the young man's intonation, repeated, +"Reb Kozlover, you've made a mistake!" + +Feivke looked wildly round at the bystanders, at his father. Then he +suddenly advanced to the freckled boy, and glared at him with his black +eyes. + +"You, you--kob tebi biessi!" he hissed in Little-Russian. + +The laughter and commotion increased; there was an exclamation: "Rascal, +in a holy place!" and another: "Aha! the Kozlover smith's boy must be a +first-class scamp!" The prayer-leader thumped angrily on his +prayer-book, because no one was listening to him. + +Feivke escaped once more behind the inn, but the whole company of boys +followed him, headed by Leibrutz the driver. + +"There he is, the Kozlov lazy booby!" screamed the freckled boy. "Have +you ever heard the like? He actually wanted to fight again, and in our +house! What do you think of that?" + +Leibrutz went up to Feivke at a steady trot and with the gesture of one +who likes to do what has to be done calmly and coolly. + +"Wait, boys! Hands off! We've got a remedy for him here, for which I +hope he will be thankful." + +So saying, he deliberately took hold of Feivke from behind, by his two +arms, and made a sign to the boy with yellow hair. + +"Now for it, Aarontche, give it to the youngster!" + +The little boy immediately whipped the smelling-bottle out of his +pocket, took out the stopper with a flourish, and held it to Feivke's +nose. The next moment Feivke had wrenched himself free, and was making +for the chicken-face with nails spread, when he received two smart, +sounding boxes on the ears, from two great, heavy, horny hands, which so +clouded his brain that for a minute he stood dazed and dumb. Suddenly he +made a spring at Leibrutz, fell upon his hand, and fastened his sharp +teeth in the flesh. Leibrutz gave a loud yell. + +There was a great to-do. People came running out in their robes, women +with pale, startled faces called to their children. A few of them +reproved Mattes for his son's behavior. Then they dispersed, till there +remained behind the inn only Mattes and Feivke. Mattes looked at his boy +in silence. He was not a talkative man, and he found only two or three +words to say: + +"Feivke, Mother there at home--and you--here?" + +Again Feivke found himself alone on the field, and again he stretched +himself out and dozed. Again, too, the red streams flowed before his +eyes, and someone unknown to him stood at his head and recited prayers. +Only the streams were thicker and darker, and the davvening over his +head was louder, sadder, more penetrating. + +It was quite dark when Mattes came out again, took Feivke by the hand, +set him on his feet, and said, "Now we are going home." + +Indoors everything had come to an end, and the room had taken on a +week-day look. The candles were gone, and a lamp was burning above the +table, round which sat men in their hats and usual cloaks, no robes to +be seen, and partook of some refreshment. There was no more davvening, +but in Feivke's ears was the same ringing of bells. It now seemed to him +that he saw the room and the men for the first time, and the old Jew +sitting at the head of the table, presiding over bottles and +wine-glasses, and clicking with his tongue, could not possibly be the +old man with the silver-white beard who had held the scroll of the Law +to his breast. + +Mattes went up to the table, gave a cough, bowed to the company, and +said, "A good year!" + +The old man raised his head, and thundered so loudly that Feivke's face +twitched as with pain: + +"Ha?" + +"I said--I am just going--going home--home again--so I wish--wish you--a +good year!" + +"Ha, a good year? A good year to you also! Wait, have a little brandy, +ha?" + +Feivke shut his eyes. It made him feel bad to have the lamp burning so +brightly and the old man talking so loud. Why need he speak in such a +high, rasping voice that it went through one's head like a saw? + +"Ha? Is it your little boy who scratched my Aarontche's face? Ha? A +rascal is he? Beat him well! There, give him a little brandy, too--and a +bit of cake! He fasted too, ha? But he can't recite the prayers? Fie! +_You_ ought to be beaten! Ha? Are you going home? Go in health! Ha? Your +wife has just been confined?--Perhaps you need some money for the +holidays? Ha? What do you say?" + +Mattes and Feivke started to walk home. Mattes gave a look at the clear +sky, where the young half-moon had floated into view. "Mother will be +expecting us," he said, and began to walk quickly. Feivke could hardly +drag his feet. + +On the tall bridge they were met by a cool breeze blowing from the +water. Once across the bridge, Mattes again quickened his pace. +Presently he stopped to look around--no Feivke! He turned back and saw +Feivke sitting in the middle of the road. The child was huddled up in a +silent, shivering heap. His teeth chattered with cold. + +"Feivke, what is the matter? Why are you sitting down? Come along home!" + +"I won't"--Feivke clattered out with his teeth--"I c-a-n-'t--" + +"Did they hit you so hard, Feivke?" + +Feivke was silent. Then he stretched himself out on the ground, his +hands and feet quivering. + +"Cold--." + +"Aren't you well, Feivke?" + +The child made an effort, sat up, and looked fixedly at his father, with +his black, feverish eyes, and suddenly he asked: + +"Why did you cry there? Tate, why? Tell me, why?!" + +"Where did I cry, you little silly? Why, I just cried--it's Yom Kippur. +Mother is fasting, too--get up, Feivke, and come home. Mother will make +you a poultice," occurred to him as a happy thought. + +"No! Why did you cry, while they were laughing?" Feivke insisted, still +sitting in the road and shaking like a leaf. "One mustn't cry when they +laugh, one mustn't!" + +And he lay down again on the damp ground. + +"Feivele, come home, my son!" + +Mattes stood over the boy in despair, and looked around for help. From +some way off, from the tall bridge, came a sound of heavy footsteps +growing louder and louder, and presently the moonlight showed the figure +of a peasant. + +"Ai, who is that? Matke the smith? What are you doing there? Are you +casting spells? Who is that lying on the ground?" + +"I don't know myself what I'm doing, kind soul. That is my boy, and he +won't come home, or he can't. What am I to do with him?" complained +Mattes to the peasant, whom he knew. + +"Has he gone crazy? Give him a kick! Ai, you little lazy devil, get up!" +Feivke did not move from the spot, he only shivered silently, and his +teeth chattered. + +"Ach, you devil! What sort of a boy have you there, Matke? A visitation +of Heaven! Why don't you beat him more? The other day they came and told +tales of him--Agapa said that--" + +"I don't know, either, kind soul, what sort of a boy he is," answered +Mattes, and wrung his bands in desperation. + + * * * * * + +Early next morning Mattes hired a conveyance, and drove Feivke to the +town, to the asylum for the sick poor. The smith's wife came out and saw +them start, and she stood a long while in the doorway by the Mezuzeh. + +And on another fine autumn morning, just when the villagers were +beginning to cart loads of fresh earth to secure the village against +overflowing streams, the village boys told one another the news of +Feivke's death. + + + + +THE LAST OF THEM + + +They had been Rabbonim for generations in the Misnagdic community of +Mouravanke, old, poverty-stricken Mouravanke, crowned with hoary honor, +hidden away in the thick woods. Generation on generation of them had +been renowned far and near, wherever a Jewish word was spoken, wherever +the voice of the Torah rang out in the warm old houses-of-study. + +People talked of them everywhere, as they talk of miracles when miracles +are no more, and of consolation when all hope is long since dead--talked +of them as great-grandchildren talk of the riches of their +great-grandfather, the like of which are now unknown, and of the great +seven-branched, old-fashioned lamp, which he left them as an inheritance +of times gone by. + +For as the lustre of an old, seven-branched lamp shining in the +darkness, such was the lustre of the family of the Rabbonim of +Mouravanke. + +That was long ago, ever so long ago, when Mouravanke lay buried in the +dark Lithuanian forests. The old, low, moss-grown houses were still set +in wide, green gardens, wherein grew beet-root and onions, while the hop +twined itself and clustered thickly along the wooden fencing. Well-to-do +Jews still went about in linen pelisses, and smoked pipes filled with +dry herbs. People got a living out of the woods, where they burnt pitch +the whole week through, and Jewish families ate rye-bread and +groats-pottage. + +A new baby brought no anxiety along with it. People praised God, carried +the pitcher to the well, filled it, and poured a quart of water into the +pottage. The newcomer was one of God's creatures, and was assured of his +portion along with the others. + +And if a Jew had a marriageable daughter, and could not afford a dowry, +he took a stick in his hand, donned a white shirt with a broad mangled +collar, repeated the "Prayer of the Highway," and set off on foot to +Volhynia, that thrice-blessed wonderland, where people talk with a +"Chirik," and eat Challeh with saffron even in the middle of the +week--with saffron, if not with honey. + +There, in Volhynia, on Friday evenings, the rich Jewish householder of +the district walks to and fro leisurely in his brightly lit room. In all +likelihood, he is a short, plump, hairy man, with a broad, fair beard, a +gathered silk sash round his substantial figure, a cheery singsong +"Sholom-Alechem" on his mincing, "chiriky" tongue, and a merry crack of +the thumb. The Lithuanian guest, teacher or preacher, the shrunk and +shrivelled stranger with the piercing black eyes, sits in a corner, +merely moving his lips and gazing at the floor--perhaps because he feels +ill at ease in the bright, nicely-furnished room; perhaps because he is +thinking of his distant home, of his wife and children and his +marriageable daughter; and perhaps because it has suddenly all become +oddly dear to him, his poor, forsaken native place, with its moiling, +poverty-struck Jews, whose week is spent pitch-burning in the forest; +with its old, warm houses-of-study; with its celebrated giants of the +Torah, bending with a candle in their hand over the great hoary +Gemorehs. + +And here, at table, between the tasty stuffed fish and the soup, with +the rich Volhynian "stuffed monkeys," the brusque, tongue-tied guest is +suddenly unable to contain himself, and overflows with talk about his +corner in Lithuania. + +"Whether we have our Rabbis at home?! N-nu!!" + +And thereupon he holds forth grandiloquently, with an ardor and +incisiveness born of the love and the longing at his heart. The piercing +black eyes shoot sparks, as the guest tells of the great men of +Mouravanke, with their fiery intellects, their iron perseverance, who +sit over their books by day and by night. From time to time they take an +hour and a half's doze, falling with their head onto their fists, their +beards sweeping the Gemoreh, the big candle keeping watch overhead and +waking them once more to the study of the Torah. + +At dawn, when the people begin to come in for the Morning Prayer, they +walk round them on tiptoe, giving them their four-ells' distance, and +avoid meeting their look, which is apt to be sharp and burning. + +"That is the way we study in Lithuania!" + +The stout, hairy householder, good-natured and credulous, listens +attentively to the wonderful tales, loosens the sash over his pelisse in +leisurely fashion, unbuttons his waistcoat across his generous waist, +blows out his cheeks, and sways his head from side to side, because--one +may believe anything of the Lithuanians! + +Then, if once in a long, long while the rich Volhynian householder +stumbled, by some miracle or other, into Lithuania, sheer curiosity +would drive him to take a look at the Lithuanian celebrity. But he would +stand before him in trembling and astonishment, as one stands before a +high granite rock, the summit of which can barely be discerned. Is he +terrified by the dark and bushy brows, the keen, penetrating looks, the +deep, stern wrinkles in the forehead that might have been carved in +stone, they are so stiffly fixed? Who can say? Or is he put out of +countenance by the cold, hard assertiveness of their speech, which bores +into the conscience like a gimlet, and knows of no mercy?--for from +between those wrinkles, from beneath those dark brows, shines out the +everlasting glory of the Shechinah. + +Such were the celebrated Rabbonim of Mouravanke. + +They were an old family, a long chain of great men, generation on +generation of tall, well-built, large-boned Jews, all far on in years, +with thick, curly beards. It was very seldom one of these beards showed +a silver hair. They were stern, silent men, who heard and saw +everything, but who expressed themselves mostly by means of their +wrinkles and their eyebrows rather than in words, so that when a +Mouravanke Rav went so far as to say "N-nu," that was enough. + +The dignity of Rav was hereditary among them, descending from father to +son, and, together with the Rabbinical position and the eighteen gulden +a week salary, the son inherited from his father a tall, old +reading-desk, smoked and scorched by the candles, in the old +house-of-study in the corner by the ark, and a thick, heavy-knotted +stick, and an old holiday pelisse of lustrine, the which, if worn on a +bright Sabbath-day in summer-time, shines in the sun, and fairly shouts +to be looked at. + +They arrived in Mouravanke generations ago, when the town was still in +the power of wild highwaymen, called there "Hydemakyes," with huge, +terrifying whiskers and large, savage dogs. One day, on Hoshanah Rabbah, +early in the morning, there entered the house-of-study a tall youth, +evidently village-born and from a long way off, barefoot, with turned-up +trousers, his boots slung on a big, knotted stick across his shoulders, +and a great bundle of big Hoshanos. The youth stood in the centre of the +house-of-study with his mouth open, bewildered, and the boys quickly +snatched his willow branches from him. He was surrounded, stared at, +questioned as to who he was, whence he came, what he wanted. Had he +parents? Was he married? For some time the youth stood silent, with +downcast eyes, then he bethought himself, and answered in three words: +"I want to study!" + +And from that moment he remained in the old building, and people began +to tell wonderful tales of his power of perseverance--of how a tall, +barefoot youth, who came walking from a far distance, had by dint of +determination come to be reckoned among the great men in Israel; of how, +on a winter midnight, he would open the stove doors, and study by the +light of the glowing coals; of how he once forgot food and drink for +three days and three nights running, while he stood over a difficult +legal problem with wrinkled brows, his eyes piercing the page, his +fingers stiffening round the handle of his stick, and he motionless; and +when suddenly he found the solution, he gave a shout "Nu!" and came down +so hard on the desk with his stick that the whole house-of-study shook. +It happened just when the people were standing quite quiet, repeating +the Eighteen Benedictions. + +Then it was told how this same lad became Rav in Mouravanke, how his +genius descended to his children and children's children, till late in +the generations, gathering in might with each generation in turn. They +rose, these giants, one after the other, persistent investigators of the +Law, with high, wrinkled foreheads, dark, bushy brows, a hard, cutting +glance, sharp as steel. + +In those days Mouravanke was illuminated as with seven suns. The +houses-of-study were filled with students; voices, young and old, rang +out over the Gemorehs, sang, wept, and implored. Worried and +tired-looking fathers and uncles would come into the Shools with +blackened faces after the day's pitch-burning, between Afternoon and +Evening Prayer, range themselves in leisurely mood by the doors and the +stove, cock their ears, and listen, Jewish drivers, who convey people +from one town to another, snatched a minute the first thing in the +morning, and dropped in with their whips under their arms, to hear a +passage in the Gemoreh expounded. And the women, who washed the linen at +the pump in summer-time, beat the wet clothes to the melody of the Torah +that came floating into the street through the open windows, sweet as a +long-expected piece of good news. + +Thus Mouravanke came to be of great renown, because the wondrous power +of the Mouravanke Rabbonim, the power of concentration of thought, grew +from generation to generation. And in those days the old people went +about with a secret whispering, that if there should arise a tenth +generation of the mighty ones, a new thing, please God, would come to +pass among Jews. + +But there was no tenth generation; the ninth of the Mouravanke Rabbonim +was the last of them. + +He had two sons, but there was no luck in the house in his day: the sons +philosophized too much, asked too many questions, took strange paths +that led them far away. + +Once a rumor spread in Mouravanke that the Rav's eldest son had become +celebrated in the great world because of a book he had written, and had +acquired the title of "professor." When the old Rav was told of it, he +at first remained silent, with downcast eyes. Then he lifted them and +ejaculated: + +"Nu!" + +And not a word more. It was only remarked that he grew paler, that his +look was even more piercing, more searching than before. This is all +that was ever said in the town about the Rav's children, for no one +cared to discuss a thing on which the old Rav himself was silent. + +Once, however, on the Great Sabbath, something happened in the spacious +old house-of-study. The Rav was standing by the ark, wrapped in his +Tallis, and expounding to a crowded congregation. He had a clear, +resonant, deep voice, and when he sent it thundering over the heads of +his people, the air seemed to catch fire, and they listened dumbfounded +and spellbound. + +Suddenly the old man stopped in the midst of his exposition, and was +silent. The congregation thrilled with speechless expectation. For a +minute or two the Rav stood with his piercing gaze fixed on the people, +then he deliberately pulled aside the curtain before the ark, opened the +ark doors, and turned to the congregation: + +"Listen, Jews! I know that many of you are thinking of something that +has just occurred to me, too. You wonder how it is that I should set +myself up to expound the Torah to a townful of Jews, when my own +children have cast the Torah behind them. Therefore I now open the ark +and declare to you, Jews, before the holy scrolls of the Law, I have no +children any more. I am the last Rav of our family!" + +Hereupon a piteous wail came from out of the women's Shool, but the +Rav's sonorous voice soon reduced them to silence, and once more the +Torah was being expounded in thunder over the heads of the open-mouthed +assembly. + +Years, a whole decade of them, passed, and still the old Rav walked +erect, and not one silver hair showed in his curly beard, and the town +was still used to see him before daylight, a tall, solitary figure +carrying a stick and a lantern, on his way to the large old Bes +ha-Midrash, to study there in solitude--until Mouravanke began to ring +with the fame of her Charif, her great new scholar. + +He was the son of a poor tailor, a pale, thin youth, with a pointed nose +and two sharp, black eyes, who had gone away at thirteen or so to study +in celebrated, distant academies, whence his name had spread round and +about. People said of him, that he was growing up to be a Light of the +Exile, that with his scholastic achievements he would outwit the acutest +intellects of all past ages; they said that he possessed a brain power +that ground "mountains" of Talmud to powder. News came that a quantity +of prominent Jewish communities had sent messengers, to ask him to come +and be their Rav. + +Mouravanke was stirred to its depths. The householders went about +greatly perturbed, because their Rav was an old man, his days were +numbered, and he had no children to take his place. + +So they came to the old Rav in his house, to ask his advice, whether it +was possible to invite the Mouravanke Charif, the tailor's son, to come +to them, so that he might take the place of the Rav on his death, in a +hundred and twenty years--seeing that the said young Charif was a +scholar distinguished by the acuteness of his intellect the only man +worthy of sitting in the seat of the Mouravanke Rabbonim. + +The old Rav listened to the householders with lowering brows, and never +raised his eyes, and he answered them one word: + +"Nu!" + +So Mouravanke sent a messenger to the young Charif, offering him the +Rabbinate. The messenger was swift, and soon the news spread through the +town that the Charif was approaching. + +When it was time for the householders to go forth out of the town, to +meet the young Charif, the old Rav offered to go with them, and they +took a chair for him to sit in while he waited at the meeting-place. +This was by the wood outside the town, where all through the week the +Jewish townsfolk earned their bread by burning pitch. Begrimed and +toil-worn Jews were continually dropping their work and peeping out +shamefacedly between the tree-stems. + +It was Friday, a clear day in the autumn. She appeared out of a great +cloud of dust--she, the travelling-wagon in which sat the celebrated +young Charif. Sholom-Alechems flew to meet him from every side, and his +old father, the tailor, leant back against a tree, and wept aloud for +joy. + +Now the old Rav declared that he would not allow the Charif to enter the +town till he had heard him, the Charif, expound a portion of the Torah. + +The young man accepted the condition. Men, women, and little children +stood expectant, all eyes were fastened on the tailor's son, all hearts +beat rapidly. + +The Charif expounded the Torah standing in the wagon. At first he looked +fairly scared, and his sharp black eyes darted fearfully hither and +thither over the heads of the silent crowd. Then came a bright idea, and +lit up his face. He began to speak, but his was not the familiar +teaching, such as everyone learns and understands. His words were like +fiery flashes appearing and disappearing one after the other, lightnings +that traverse and illumine half the sky in one second of time, a play of +swords in which there are no words, only the clink and ring of +finely-tempered steel. + +The old Rav sat in his chair leaning on his old, knobbly, knotted stick, +and listened. He heard, but evil thoughts beset him, and deep, hard +wrinkles cut themselves into his forehead. He saw before him the Charif, +the dried-up youth with the sharp eyes and the sharp, pointed nose, and +the evil thought came to him, "Those are needles, a tailor's needles," +while the long, thin forefinger with which the Charif pointed rapidly in +the air seemed a third needle wielded by a tailor in a hurry. + +"You prick more sharply even than your father," is what the old Rav +wanted to say when the Charif ended his sermon, but he did not say it. +The whole assembly was gazing with caught breath at his half-closed +eyelids. The lids never moved, and some thought wonderingly that he had +fallen into a doze from sheer old age. + +Suddenly a strange, dry snap broke the stillness, the old Rav started in +his chair, and when they rushed forward to assist him, they found that +his knotted, knobbly stick had broken in two. + +Pale and bent for the first time, but a tall figure still, the old Rav +stood up among his startled flock. He made a leisurely motion with his +hand in the direction of the town, and remarked quietly to the young +Charif: + +"Nu, now you can go into the town!" + +That Friday night the old Rav came into the house-of-study without his +satin cloak, like a mourner. The congregation saw him lead the young Rav +into the corner near the ark, where he sat him down by the high old +desk, saying: + +"You will sit here." + +He himself went and sat down behind the pulpit among the strangers, the +Sabbath guests. + +For the first minute people were lost in astonishment; the next minute +the house-of-study was filled with wailing. Old and young lifted their +voices in lamentation. The young Rav looked like a child sitting behind +the tall desk, and he shivered and shook as though with fever. + +Then the old Rav stood up to his full height and commanded: + +"People are not to weep!" + +All this happened about the Solemn Days. Mouravanke remembers that time +now, and speaks of it at dusk, when the sky is red as though streaming +with fire, and the men stand about pensive and forlorn, and the women +fold their babies closer in their aprons. + +At the close of the Day of Atonement there was a report that the old Rav +had breathed his last in robe and prayer-scarf. + +The young Charif did not survive him long. He died at his father's the +tailor, and his funeral was on a wet Great Hosannah day. Aged folk said +he had been summoned to face the old Rav in a lawsuit in the Heavenly +Court. + + + + +A FOLK TALE + + + + +THE CLEVER RABBI + + +The power of man's imagination, said my Grandmother, is very great. +Hereby hangs a tale, which, to our sorrow, is a true one, and as clear +as daylight. + +Listen attentively, my dear child, it will interest you very much. + +Not far from this town of ours lived an old Count, who believed that +Jews require blood at Passover, Christian blood, too, for their Passover +cakes. + +The Count, in his brandy distillery, had a Jewish overseer, a very +honest, respectable fellow. + +The Count loved him for his honesty, and was very kind to him, and the +Jew, although he was a simple man and no scholar, was well-disposed, and +served the Count with heart and soul. He would have gone through fire +and water at the Count's bidding, for it is in the nature of a Jew to be +faithful and to love good men. + +The Count often discussed business matters with him, and took pleasure +in hearing about the customs and observances of the Jews. + +One day the Count said to him, "Tell me the truth, do you love me with +your whole heart?" + +"Yes," replied the Jew, "I love you as myself." + +"Not true!" said the Count. "I shall prove to you that you hate me even +unto death." + +"Hold!" cried the Jew. "Why does my lord say such terrible things?" + +The Count smiled and answered: "Let me tell you! I know quite well that +Jews must have Christian blood for their Passover feast. Now, what +would you do if I were the only Christian you could find? You would have +to kill me, because the Rabbis have said so. Indeed, I can scarcely hold +you to blame, since, according to your false notions, the Divine command +is precious, even when it tells us to commit murder. I should be no more +to you than was Isaac to Abraham, when, at God's command, Abraham was +about to slay his only son. Know, however, that the God of Abraham is a +God of mercy and lovingkindness, while the God the Rabbis have created +is full of hatred towards Christians. How, then, can you say that you +love me?" + +The Jew clapped his hands to his head, he tore his hair in his distress +and felt no pain, and with a broken heart he answered the Count, and +said: "How long will you Christians suffer this stain on your pure +hearts? How long will you disgrace yourselves? Does not my lord know +that this is a great lie? I, as a believing Jew, and many besides me, as +believing Jews--we ourselves, I say, with our own hands, grind the corn, +we keep the flour from getting damp or wet with anything, for if only a +little dew drop onto it, it is prohibited for us as though it had yeast. + +"Till the day on which the cakes are baked, we keep the flour as the +apple of our eye. And when the flour is baked, and we are eating the +cakes, even then we are not sure of swallowing it, because if our gums +should begin to bleed, we have to spit the piece out. And in face of all +these stringent regulations against eating the blood of even beasts and +birds, some people say that Jews require human blood for their Passover +cakes, and swear to it as a fact! What does my lord suppose we are +likely to think of such people? We know that they swear falsely--and a +false oath is of all things the worst." + +The Count was touched to the heart by these words, and these two men, +being both upright and without guile, believed one the other. + +The Count believed the Jew, that is, he believed that the Jew did not +know the truth of the matter, because he was poor and untaught, while +the Rabbis all the time most certainly used blood at Passover, only they +kept it a secret from the people. And he said as much to the Jew, who, +in his turn, believed the Count, because he knew him to be an honorable +man. And so it was that he began to have his doubts, and when the Count, +on different occasions, repeated the same words, the Jew said to +himself, that perhaps after all it was partly true, that there must be +something in it--the Count would never tell him a lie! + +And he carried the thought about with him for some time. + +The Jew found increasing favor in his master's eyes. The Count lent him +money to trade with, and God prospered the Jew in everything he +undertook. Thanks to the Count, he grew rich. + +The Jew had a kind heart, and was much given to good works, as is the +way with Jews. + +He was very charitable, and succored all the poor in the neighboring +town. And he assisted the Rabbis and the pious in all the places round +about, and earned for himself a great and beautiful name, for he was +known to all as "the benefactor." + +The Rabbis gave him the honor due to a pious and influential Jew, who is +a wealthy man and charitable into the bargain. + +But the Jew was thinking: + +"Now the Rabbis will let me into the secret which is theirs, and which +they share with those only who are at once pious and rich, that great +and pious Jews must have blood for Passover." + +For a long time he lived in hope, but the Rabbis told him nothing, the +subject was not once mentioned. But the Jew felt sure that the Count +would never have lied to him, and he gave more liberally than before, +thinking, "Perhaps after all it was too little." + +He assisted the Rabbi of the nearest town for a whole year, so that the +Rabbi opened his eyes in astonishment. He gave him more than half of +what is sufficient for a livelihood. + +When it was near Passover, the Jew drove into the little town to visit +the Rabbi, who received him with open arms, and gave him honor as unto +the most powerful and wealthy benefactor. And all the representative men +of the community paid him their respects. + +Thought the Jew, "Now they will tell me of the commandment which it is +not given to every Jew to observe." + +As the Rabbi, however, told him nothing, the Jew remained, to remind the +Rabbi, as it were, of his duty. + +"Rabbi," said the Jew, "I have something very particular to say to you! +Let us go into a room where we two shall be alone." + +So the Rabbi went with him into an empty room, shut the door, and said: + +"Dear friend, what is your wish? Do not be abashed, but speak freely, +and tell me what I can do for you." + +"Dear Rabbi, I am, you must know, already acquainted with the fact that +Jews require blood at Passover. I know also that it is a secret +belonging only to the Rabbis, to very pious Jews, and to the wealthy who +give much alms. And I, who am, as you know, a very charitable and good +Jew, wish also to comply, if only once in my life, with this great +observance. + +"You need not be alarmed, dear Rabbi! I will never betray the secret, +but will make you happy forever, if you will enable me to fulfil so +great a command. + +"If, however, you deny its existence, and declare that Jews do not +require blood, from that moment I become your bitter enemy. + +"And why should I be treated worse than any other pious Jew? I, too, +want to try to perform the great commandment which God gave in secret. I +am not learned in the Law, but a great and wealthy Jew, and one given to +good works, that am I in very truth!" + +You can fancy--said my Grandmother--the Rabbi's horror on hearing such +words from a Jew, a simple countryman. They pierced him to the quick, +like sharp arrows. + +He saw that the Jew believed in all sincerity that his coreligionists +used blood at Passover. + +How was he to uproot out of such a simple heart the weeds sown there by +evil men? + +The Rabbi saw that words would just then be useless. + +A beautiful thought came to him, and he said: "So be it, dear friend! +Come into the synagogue to-morrow at this time, and I will grant your +request. But till then you must fast, and you must not sleep all night, +but watch in prayer, for this is a very grave and dreadful thing." + +The Jew went away full of gladness, and did as the Rabbi had told him. +Next day, at the appointed time, he came again, wan with hunger and lack +of sleep. + +The Rabbi took the key of the synagogue, and they went in there +together. In the synagogue all was quiet. + +The Rabbi put on a prayer-scarf and a robe, lighted some black candles, +threw off his shoes, took the Jew by the hand, and led him up to the +ark. + +The Rabbi opened the ark, took out a scroll of the Law, and said: + +"You know that for us Jews the scroll of the Law is the most sacred of +all things, and that the list of denunciations occurs in it twice. + +"I swear to you by the scroll of the Law: If any Jew, whosoever he be, +requires blood at Passover, may all the curses contained in the two +lists of denunciations be on my head, and on the head of my whole +family!" + +The Jew was greatly startled. + +He knew that the Rabbi had never before sworn an oath, and now, for his +sake, he had sworn an oath so dreadful! + +The Jew wept much, and said: + +"Dear Rabbi, I have sinned before God and before you. I pray you, pardon +me and give me a hard penance, as hard as you please. I will perform it +willingly, and may God forgive me likewise!" + +The Rabbi comforted him, and told no one what had happened, he only told +a few very near relations, just to show them how people can be talked +into believing the greatest foolishness and the most wicked lies. + +May God--said my Grandmother--open the eyes of all who accuse us +falsely, that they may see how useless it is to trump up against us +things that never were seen or heard. + +Jews will be Jews while the world lasts, and they will become, through +suffering, better Jews with more Jewish hearts. + + + + +GLOSSARY AND NOTES + +[Abbreviations: Dimin. = diminutive; Ger. = German, corrupt German, and +Yiddish; Heb. = Hebrew, and Aramaic; pl. = plural; Russ. = Russian; +Slav. = Slavic; trl. = translation. + +Pronunciation: The transliteration of the Hebrew words attempts to +reproduce the colloquial "German" (Ashkenazic) pronunciation. _Ch_ is +pronounced as in the German _Dach_.] + + +ADDITIONAL SERVICE. _See_ EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. + +AL-CHET (Heb.). "For the sin"; the first two words of each line of an +Atonement Day prayer, at every mention of which the worshipper beats the +left side of his breast with his right fist. + +ALEF-BES (Heb.). The Hebrew alphabet. + +ASHRE (Heb.). The first word of a Psalm verse used repeatedly in the +liturgy. + +AeUS KLEMENKE! (Ger.). Klemenke is done for! + +AZOI (= Ger. also). That's the way it is! + +BADCHEN (Heb.). A wedding minstrel, whose quips often convey a moral +lesson to the bridal couple, each of whom he addresses separately. + +BAR-MITZVEH (Heb.). A boy of thirteen, the age of religious majority. + +BAS-KOL (Heb.). "The Daughter of the Voice"; an echo; a voice from +Heaven. + +BEIGEL (Ger.). Ring-shaped roll. + +BES HA-MIDRASH (Heb.). House-of-study, used for prayers, too. + +BITTUL-TORAH (Heb.). Interference with religious study. + +BOBBE (Slav.). Grandmother; midwife. + +BORSHTSH (Russ.). Sour soup made of beet-root. + +CANTONIST (Ger.). Jewish soldier under Czar Nicholas I, torn from his +parents as a child, and forcibly estranged from Judaism. + +CHALLEH (Heb.). Loaves of bread prepared for the Sabbath, over which the +blessing is said; always made of wheat flour, and sometimes yellowed +with saffron. + +CHARIF (Heb.). A Talmudic scholar and dialectician. + +CHASSIDIM (sing. Chossid) (Heb.). "Pious ones"; followers of Israel Baal +Shem, who opposed the sophisticated intellectualism of the Talmudists, +and laid stress on emotionalism in prayer and in the performance of +other religious ceremonies. The Chassidic leader is called Tzaddik +("righteous one"), or Rebbe. _See_ art. "Hasidim," in the Jewish +Encyclopedia, vol. vi. + +CHAYYE ODOM. A manual of religious practice used extensively by the +common people. + +CHEDER (pl. Chedorim) (Heb.). Jewish primary school. + +CHILLUL HA-SHEM (Heb.). "Desecration of the Holy Name"; hence, scandal. + +CHIRIK (Heb.). Name of the vowel "i"; in Volhynia "u" is pronounced like +"i." + +DAVVENING. Saying prayers. + +DAYAN (pl. Dayonim) (Heb.). Authority on Jewish religious law, usually +assistant to the Rabbi of a town. + +DIN TORAH (Heb.). Lawsuit. + +DREIER, DREIERLECH (Ger.). A small coin. + +EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. The nucleus of each of the three daily services, +morning, afternoon, evening, and of the "Additional Service" inserted on +Sabbaths, festivals, and the Holy Days, between the morning and +afternoon services. Though the number of benedictions is actually +nineteen, and at some of the services is reduced to seven, the technical +designation remains "Eighteen Benedictions." They are usually said as a +"silent prayer" by the congregation, and then recited aloud by the +cantor, or precentor. + +ERETZ YISROEL (Heb.). Palestine. + +EREV (Heb.). Eve. + +ERUV (Heb.). A cord, etc., stretched round a town, to mark the limit +beyond which no "burden" may be carried on the Sabbath. + +FAST OF ESTHER. A fast day preceding Purim, the Feast of Esther. + +"FOUNTAIN OF JACOB." A collection of all the legends, tales, apologues, +parables, etc., in the Babylonian Talmud. + +FOUR-CORNERS (trl. of Arba Kanfos). A fringed garment worn under the +ordinary clothes; called also Tallis-koton. _See_ Deut. xxii. 12. + +FOUR ELLS. Minimum space required by a human being. + +FOUR QUESTIONS. Put by the youngest child to his father at the Seder. + +GANZE GOYIM (Ger. and Heb.). Wholly estranged from Jewish life and +customs. _See_ Goi. + +GASS (Ger.). The Jews' street. + +GEHENNA (Heb.). The nether world; hell. + +GEMOREH (Heb.). The Talmud, the Rabbinical discussion and elaboration of +the Mishnah; a Talmud folio. It is usually read with a peculiar singsong +chant, and the reading of argumentative passages is accompanied by a +gesture with the thumb. _See, for instance_, pp. 17 and 338. + +GEMOREH-KOePLECH (Heb. and Ger.). A subtle, keen mind; precocious. + +GEVIR (Heb.). An influential, rich man.--GEVIRISH, appertaining to a +Gevir. + +GOI (pl. Goyim) (Heb.). A Gentile; a Jew estranged from Jewish life and +customs. + +GOTTINYU (Ger. with Slav. ending). Dear God. + +GREAT SABBATH, THE. The Sabbath preceding Passover. + +HAGGADAH (Heb.). The story of the Exodus recited at the home service on +the first two evenings of Passover. + +HOSHANAH (pl. Hoshanos) (Heb.). Osier withe for the Great Hosannah. + +HOSHANAH-RABBAH (Heb.). The seventh day of the Feast of Tabernacles; the +Great Hosannah. + +HOSTRE CHASSIDIM. Followers of the Rebbe or Tzaddik who lived at +Hostre. + +KADDISH (Heb.). Sanctification, or doxology, recited by mourners, +specifically by children in memory of parents during the first eleven +months after their death, and thereafter on every anniversary of the day +of their death; applied to an only son, on whom will devolve the duty of +reciting the prayer on the death of his parents; sometimes applied to +the oldest son, and to sons in general. + +KALLEH (Heb.) Bride. + +KALLEH-LEBEN (Heb. and Ger.). Dear bride. + +KALLEHSHI (Heb. and Russ. dimin.). Dear bride. + +KASHA (Slav.). Pap. + +KEDUSHAH (Heb.). Sanctification; the central part of the public service, +of which the "Holy, holy, holy," forms a sentence. + +KERBEL, KERBLECH (Ger.). A ruble. + +KIDDUSH (Heb.). Sanctification; blessing recited over wine in ushering +in Sabbaths and holidays. + +KLAUS (Ger.). "Hermitage"; a conventicle; a house-of-study. + +KOB TEBI BIESSI (Little Russ.) "Demons take you!" + +KOL NIDRE (Heb.). The first prayer recited at the synagogue on the Eve +of the Day of Atonement. + +KOSHER (Heb.). Ritually clean or permitted. + +KOSHER-TANZ (Heb. and Ger.). Bride's dance. + +KOeST (Ger.). Board.--AUF KOeST. Free board and lodging given to a man and +his wife by the latter's parents during the early years of his married +life. + +"LEARN." Studying the Talmud, the codes, and the commentaries. + +LE-CHAYYIM (Heb.). Here's to long life! + +LEHAVDIL (Heb.). "To distinguish." Elliptical for "to distinguish +between the holy and the secular"; equivalent to "excuse the +comparison"; "pardon me for mentioning the two things in the same +breath," etc. + +LIKKUTE ZEVI (Heb.). A collection of prayers. + +LOKSHEN. Macaroni.--TORAS-LOKSHEN, macaroni made in approved style. + +MAARIV (Heb.). The Evening Prayer, or service. + +MAGGID (Heb.). Preacher. + +MAHARSHO (MAHARSHO). Hebrew initial letters of Morenu ha-Rab Shemuel +Edels, a great commentator. + +MALKES (Heb.). Stripes inflicted on the Eve of the Day of Atonement, in +expiation of sins. _See_ Deut. xxv. 2, 3. + +MASKIL (pl. Maskilim) (Heb.). An "intellectual." The aim of the +"intellectuals" was the spread of modern general education among the +Jews, especially in Eastern Europe. They were reproached with +secularizing Hebrew and disregarding the ceremonial law. + +MATZES (Heb.). The unleavened bread used during Passover. + +MECHUTENESTE (Heb.). Mother-in-law; prospective mother-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married. + +MECHUTTON (Heb.). Father-in-law; prospective father-in-law; expresses +chiefly the reciprocal relation between the parents of a couple about to +be married. + +MEHEREH (Heb.). The "quick" dough for the Matzes. + +MELAMMED (Heb.). Teacher. + +MEZUZEH (Heb.). "Door-post;" Scripture verses attached to the door-posts +of Jewish houses. _See_ Deut. vi. 9. + +MIDRASH (Heb.). Homiletic exposition of the Scriptures. + +MINCHAH (Heb.). The Afternoon Prayer, or service. + +MIN HA-MEZAR (Heb.). "Out of the depth," Ps. 118. 5. + +MINYAN (Heb.). A company of ten men, the minimum for a public service; +specifically, a temporary congregation, gathered together, usually in a +village, from several neighboring Jewish settlements, for services on +New Year and the Day of Atonement. + +MISHNAH (Heb.). The earliest code (ab. 200 C. E.) after the Pentateuch, +portions of which are studied, during the early days of mourning, in +honor of the dead. + +MISNAGGID (pl. Misnagdim) (Heb.). "Opponents" of the Chassidim. The +Misnagdic communities are led by a Rabbi (pl. Rabbonim), sometimes +called Rav. + +MITZVEH (Heb.). A commandment, a duty, the doing of which is +meritorious. + +NASHERS (Ger.). Gourmets. + +NISHKOSHE (Ger. and Heb.). Never mind! + +NISSAN (Heb.). Spring month (March-April), in which Passover is +celebrated. + +OLENU (Heb.). The concluding prayer in the synagogue service. + +OLOM HA-SHEKER (Heb.). "The world of falsehood," this world. + +OLOM HA-TOHU (Heb.). World of chaos. + +OLOM HO-EMESS (Heb.). "The world of truth," the world-to-come. + +PARNOSSEH (Heb.). Means of livelihood; business; sustenance. + +PIYYUTIM (Heb.). Liturgical poems for festivals and Holy Days recited in +the synagogue. + +PORUSH (Heb.). Recluse. + +PRAYER OF THE HIGHWAY. Prayer on setting out on a journey. + +PRAYER-SCARF. _See_ TALLIS. + +PUD (Russ.). Forty pounds. + +PURIM (Heb.). The Feast of Esther. + +RASHI (RASHI). Hebrew initial letters of Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac, a +great commentator; applied to a certain form of script and type. + +RAV (Heb.). Rabbi. + +REBBE. Sometimes used for Rabbi; sometimes equivalent to Mr.; sometimes +applied to the Tzaddik of the Chassidim; and sometimes used as the title +of a teacher of young children. + +REBBETZIN. Wife of a Rabbi. + +ROSH-YESHIVEH (Rosh ha-Yeshiveh) (Heb.). Headmaster of a Talmudic +Academy. + +SCAPE-FOWLS (trl. of Kapporos). Roosters or hens used in a ceremony on +the Eve of the Day of Atonement. + +SEDER (Heb.). Home service on the first two Passover evenings. + +SELICHES (Heb.). Penitential prayers. + +SEVENTEENTH OF TAMMUZ. Fast in commemoration of the first breach made in +the walls of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. + +SHALOM (Heb. in Sefardic pronunciation). Peace. _See_ SHOLOM ALECHEM. + +SHAMASH (Heb.). Beadle. + +SHECHINAH (Heb.). The Divine Presence. + +SHEGETZ (Heb.). "Abomination;" a sinner; a rascal. + +SHLIMM-MAZEL (Ger. and Heb.). Bad luck; luckless fellow. + +SHMOOREH-MATZES (Heb.). Unleavened bread specially guarded and watched +from the harvesting of the wheat to the baking and storing. + +SHOCHET (Heb.). Ritual slaughterer. + +SHOFAR (Heb.). Ram's horn, sounded on New Year's Day and the Day of +Atonement. _See_ Lev. xxiii. 24. + +SHOLOM (SHALOM) ALECHEM (Heb.). "Peace unto you"; greeting, salutation, +especially to one newly arrived after a journey. + +SHOMER. Pseudonym of a Yiddish author, Nahum M. Schaikewitz. + +SHOOL (Ger., Schul'). Synagogue. + +SHULCHAN ARUCH (Heb.). The Jewish code. + +SILENT PRAYER. _See_ EIGHTEEN BENEDICTIONS. + +SOLEMN DAYS. The ten days from New Year to the Day of Atonement +inclusive. + +SOUL-LIGHTS. Candles lighted in memory of the dead. + +STUFFED MONKEYS. Pastry filled with chopped fruit and spices. + +TALLIS (popular plural formation, Tallesim) (Heb.). The prayer-scarf. + +TALLIS-KOTON (Heb.). _See_ FOUR-CORNERS. + +TALMID-CHOCHEM (Heb.). Sage; scholar. + +TALMUD TORAH (Heb.). Free communal school. + +TANO (Heb.). A Rabbi cited in the Mishnah as an authority. + +TARARAM. Noise; tumult; ado. + +TATE, TATISHE (Ger. and Russ. dimin.). Father. + +TEFILLIN-SAeCKLECH (Heb. and Ger.). Phylacteries bag. + +TISHO-B'OV (Heb.). Ninth of Ab, day of mourning and fasting to +commemorate the destruction of Jerusalem; hence, colloquially, a sad +day. + +TORAH (Heb.). The Jewish Law in general, and the Pentateuch in +particular. + +TSISIN. Season. + +TZADDIK (pl. Tzaddikim) (Heb.). "Righteous"; title of the Chassidic +leader. + +U-MIPNE CHATOENU (Heb.). "And on account of our sins," the first two +words of a prayer for the restoration of the sacrificial service, +recited in the Additional Service of the Holy Days and the festivals. + +U-NESANNEH-TOIKEF (Heb.). "And we ascribe majesty," the first two words +of a Piyyut recited on New Year and on the Day of Atonement. + +VERFALLEN! (Ger.). Lost; done for. + +VERSHOK (Russ.). Two inches and a quarter. + +VIERER (Ger.). Four kopeks. + +VIVAT. Toast. + +YESHIVEH (Heb.). Talmud Academy. + +YOHRZEIT (Ger.). Anniversary of a death. + +YOM KIPPUR (Heb.). Day of Atonement. + +YOM-TOV (Heb.). Festival. + +ZHYDEK (Little Russ.). Jew. + +P. 15. "It was seldom that parties went 'to law' ... before the +Rav."--The Rabbi with his Dayonim gave civil as well as religious +decisions. + +P. 15. "Milky Sabbath."--All meals without meat. In connection with +fowl, ritual questions frequently arise. + +P. 16. "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow."--Reuben and Simeon are +fictitious plaintiff and defendant in the Talmud; similar to John Doe +and Richard Roe. + +P. 17. "He described a half-circle," etc.--_See under_ GEMOREH. + +P. 57. "Not every one is worthy of both tables!"--Worthy of Torah and +riches. + +P. 117. "They salted the meat."--The ritual ordinance requires that meat +should be salted down for an hour after it has soaked in water for half +an hour. + +P. 150. "Puts off his shoes!"--To pray in stocking-feet is a sign of +mourning and a penance. + +P. 190. "We have trespassed," etc.--The Confession of Sins. + +P. 190. "The beadle deals them out thirty-nine blows," etc.--_see_ +MALKES. + +P. 197. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.--The Introduction to +the solemn Kol Nidre prayer. + +P. 220. "He began to wear the phylacteries and the prayer-scarf," +etc.--They are worn first when a boy is Bar-Mitzveh (_which see_); +Ezrielk was married at the age of thirteen. + +P. 220. "He could not even break the wine-glass," etc.--A marriage +custom. + +P. 220. "Waving of the sacrificial fowls."--_See_ SCAPE-FOWLS. + +P. 220. "The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates."--A betrothal +custom. + +P. 227. "Had a double right to board with their parents +'forever.'"--_See_ Koest. + +P. 271. "With the consent of the All-Present," etc.--_See note under_ p. +197. + +P. 273. "Nothing was lacking for their journey from the living to the +dead."--_See note under_ p. 547. + +P. 319. "Give me a teacher who can tell," etc.--Reference to the story +of the heathen who asked, first of Shammai, and then of Hillel, to be +taught the whole of the Jewish Law while standing on one leg. + +P. 326. "And those who do not smoke on Sabbath, raised their eyes to the +sky."--To look for the appearance of three stars, which indicate +nightfall, and the end of the Sabbath. + +P. 336. "Jeroboam the son of Nebat."--The Rabbinical type for one who +not only sins himself, but induces others to sin, too. + +P. 401. "Thursday."--_See note under_ p. 516. + +P. 403. "Monday," "Wednesday," "Tuesday."--_See note under_ p. 516. + +P. 427. "Six months' 'board.'"--_See_ Koest. + +P. 443. "I knew Hebrew grammar, and could write Hebrew, too."--_See_ +MASKIL. + +P. 445. "A Jeroboam son of Nebat."--_See note under_ p. 336. + +P. 489. "In a snow-white robe."--The head of the house is clad in his +shroud at the Seder on the Passover. + +P. 516. "She knew that on Wednesdays Yitzchokel ate his 'day'," etc.--At +the houses of well-to-do families meals were furnished to poor students, +each student having a specific day of the week with a given family +throughout the year. + +P. 547. "Why had he brought ... a white shirt-like garment?"--The +worshippers in the synagogue on the Day of Atonement wear shrouds. + +P. 552. "Am I ... I suppose I am to lie down?"--_See_ MALKES. + +P. 574. "In a hundred and twenty years."--The age attained by Moses and +Aaron; a good old age. The expression is used when planning for a future +to come after the death of the person spoken to, to imply that there is +no desire to see his days curtailed for the sake of the plan. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yiddish Tales, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YIDDISH TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 33707.txt or 33707.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/7/0/33707/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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