Children of the Ghetto Part 35

"Hoi, hoi," said Shoss.h.i.+ in horror, his red hands quivering.

"Yes," said Bear mournfully, "I had worn them for ten years and moreover the leaven had denied all my Pa.s.sovers."

Belcovitch also entertained the lover with details of the internal politics of the "Sons of the Covenant."

Shoss.h.i.+'s affection for Becky increased weekly under the stress of these intimate conversations with her family. At last his pa.s.sion was rewarded, and Becky, at the violent instance of her father, consented to disappoint one of her young men and stay at home to meet her future husband. She put off her consent till after dinner though, and it began to rain immediately before she gave it.

The moment Shoss.h.i.+ came into the room he divined that a change had come over the spirit of the dream. Out of the corners of his eyes he caught a glimpse of an appalling beauty standing behind a sewing machine. His face fired up, his legs began to quiver, he wished the ground would open and swallow him as it did Korah.

"Becky," said Mr. Belcovitch, "this is Mr. Shoss.h.i.+ Shmendrik."

Shoss.h.i.+ put on a sickly grin and nodded his head affirmatively, as if to corroborate the statement, and the round felt hat he wore slid back till the broad rim rested on his ears. Through a sort of mist a terribly fine maid loomed.

Becky stared at him haughtily and curled her lip. Then she giggled.

Shoss.h.i.+ held out his huge red hand limply. Becky took no notice of it.

"_Nu_, Becky!" breathed Belcovitch, in a whisper that could have been heard across the way.

"How are you? All right?" said Becky, very loud, as if she thought deafness was among Shoss.h.i.+'s disadvantages.

Shoss.h.i.+ grinned rea.s.suringly.

There was another silence.

Shoss.h.i.+ wondered whether the _convenances_ would permit him to take his leave now. He did not feel comfortable at all. Everything had been going so delightfully, it had been quite a pleasure to him to come to the house. But now all was changed. The course of true love never does run smooth, and the advent of this new personage into the courts.h.i.+p was distinctly embarra.s.sing.

The father came to the rescue.

"A little rum?" he said.

"Yes," said Shoss.h.i.+.

"Chayah! _nu_. Fetch the bottle!"

Mrs. Belcovitch went to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room and took from the top of it a large decanter. She then produced two gla.s.ses without feet and filled them with the home-made rum, handing one to Shoss.h.i.+ and the other to her husband. Shoss.h.i.+ muttered a blessing over it, then he leered vacuously at the company and cried, "To life!"

"To peace!" replied the older man, gulping down the spirit. Shoss.h.i.+ was doing the same, when his eye caught Becky's. He choked for five minutes, Mrs. Belcovitch thumping him maternally on the back. When he was comparatively recovered the sense of his disgrace rushed upon him and overwhelmed him afresh. Becky was still giggling behind the sewing machine. Once more Shoss.h.i.+ felt that the burden of the conversation was upon him. He looked at his boots and not seeing anything there, looked up again and grinned encouragingly at the company as if to waive his rights. But finding the company did not respond, he blew his nose enthusiastically as a lead off to the conversation.

Mr. Belcovitch saw his embarra.s.sment, and, making a sign to Chayah, slipped out of the room followed by his wife. Shoss.h.i.+ was left alone with the terribly fine maid.

Becky stood still, humming a little air and looking up at the ceiling, as if she had forgotten Shoss.h.i.+'s existence. With her eyes in that position it was easier for Shoss.h.i.+ to look at her. He stole side-long glances at her, which, growing bolder and bolder, at length fused into an uninterrupted steady gaze. How fine and beautiful she was! His eyes began to glitter, a smile of approbation overspread his face. Suddenly she looked down and their eyes met. Shoss.h.i.+'s smile hurried off and gave way to a sickly sheepish look and his legs felt weak. The terribly fine maid gave a kind of snort and resumed her inspection of the ceiling.

Gradually Shoss.h.i.+ found himself examining her again. Verily Sugarman had spoken truly of her charms. But--overwhelming thought--had not Sugarman also said she loved him? Shoss.h.i.+ knew nothing of the ways of girls, except what he had learned from the Talmud. Quite possibly Becky was now occupied in expressing ardent affection. He shuffled towards her, his heart beating violently. He was near enough to touch her. The air she was humming throbbed in his ears. He opened his mouth to speak--Becky becoming suddenly aware of his proximity fixed him with a basilisk glare--the words were frozen on his lips. For some seconds his mouth remained open, then the ridiculousness of shutting it again without speaking spurred him on to make some sound, however meaningless. He made a violent effort and there burst from his lips in Hebrew:

"Happy are those who dwell in thy house, ever shall they praise thee, Selah!" It was not a compliment to Becky. Shoss.h.i.+'s face lit up with joyous relief. By some inspiration he had started the afternoon prayer.

He felt that Becky would understand the pious necessity. With fervent grat.i.tude to the Almighty he continued the Psalm: "Happy are the people whose lot is thus, etc." Then he turned his back on Becky, with his face to the East wall, made three steps forwards and commenced the silent delivery of the _Amidah_. Usually he gabbled off the "Eighteen Blessings" in five minutes. To-day they were prolonged till he heard the footsteps of the returning parents. Then he scurried through the relics of the service at lightning speed. When Mr. and Mrs. Belcovitch re-entered the room they saw by his happy face that all was well and made no opposition to his instant departure.

He came again the next Sunday and was rejoiced to find that Becky was out, though he had hoped to find her in. The courts.h.i.+p made great strides that afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Belcovitch being more amiable than ever to compensate for Becky's private refusal to entertain the addresses of such a _Schmuck_. There had been sharp domestic discussions during the week, and Becky had only sniffed at her parents'

commendations of Shoss.h.i.+ as a "very worthy youth." She declared that it was "remission of sins merely to look at him."

Next Sabbath Mr. and Mrs. Belcovitch paid a formal visit to Shoss.h.i.+'s parents to make their acquaintance, and partook of tea and cake. Becky was not with them; moreover she defiantly declared she would never be at home on a Sunday till Shoss.h.i.+ was married. They circ.u.mvented her by getting him up on a weekday. The image of Becky had been so often in his thoughts now that by the time he saw her the second time he was quite habituated to her appearance. He had even imagined his arm round her waist, but in practice he found he could go no further as yet than ordinary conversation.

Becky was sitting sewing b.u.t.tonholes when Shoss.h.i.+ arrived. Everybody was there--Mr. Belcovitch pressing coats with hot irons; f.a.n.n.y shaking the room with her heavy machine; Pesach Weingott cutting a piece of chalk-marked cloth; Mrs. Belcovitch carefully pouring out tablespoonfuls of medicine. There were even some outside "hands," work being unusually plentiful, as from the manifestos of Simon Wolf, the labor-leader, the slop manufacturers antic.i.p.ated a strike.

Sustained by their presence, Shoss.h.i.+ felt a bold and gallant wooer. He determined that this time he would not go without having addressed at least one remark to the object of his affections. Grinning amiably at the company generally, by way of salutation, he made straight for Becky's corner. The terribly fine lady snorted at the sight of him, divining that she had been out-manoeuvred. Belcovitch surveyed the situation out of the corners of his eyes, not pausing a moment in his task.

"_Nu_, how goes it, Becky?" Shoss.h.i.+ murmured.

Becky said, "All right, how are you?"

"G.o.d be thanked, I have nothing to complain of," said Shoss.h.i.+, encouraged by the warmth of his welcome. "My eyes are rather weak, still, though much better than last year."

Becky made no reply, so Shoss.h.i.+ continued: "But my mother is always a sick person. She has to swallow bucketsful of cod liver oil. She cannot be long for this world."

"Nonsense, nonsense," put in Mrs. Belcovitch, appearing suddenly behind the lovers. "My children's children shall never be any worse; it's all fancy with her, she coddles herself too much."

"Oh, no, she says she's much worse than you," Shoss.h.i.+ blurted out, turning round to face his future mother-in-law.

"Oh, indeed!" said Chayah angrily. "My enemies shall have my maladies!

If your mother had my health, she would be lying in bed with it. But I go about in a sick condition. I can hardly crawl around. Look at my legs--has your mother got such legs? One a thick one and one a thin one."

Shoss.h.i.+ grew scarlet; he felt he had blundered. It was the first real shadow on his courts.h.i.+p--perhaps the little rift within the lute. He turned back to Becky for sympathy. There was no Becky. She had taken advantage of the conversation to slip away. He found her again in a moment though, at the other end of the room. She was seated before a machine. He crossed the room boldly and bent over her.

"Don't you feel cold, working?"

_Br-r-r-r-r-r-h_!

It was the machine turning. Becky had set the treadle going madly and was pus.h.i.+ng a piece of cloth under the needle. When she paused, Shoss.h.i.+ said:

"Have you heard Reb Shemuel preach? He told a very amusing allegory last--"

_Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-h_!

Undaunted, Shoss.h.i.+ recounted the amusing allegory at length, and as the noise of her machine prevented Becky hearing a word she found his conversation endurable. After several more monologues, accompanied on the machine by Becky, Shoss.h.i.+ took his departure in high feather, promising to bring up specimens of his handiwork for her edification.

On his next visit he arrived with his arms laden with choice morsels of carpentry. He laid them on the table for her admiration.

They were odd k.n.o.bs and rockers for Polish cradles! The pink of Becky's cheeks spread all over her face like a blot of red ink on a piece of porous paper. Shoss.h.i.+'s face reflected the color in even more ensanguined dyes. Becky rushed from the room and Shoss.h.i.+ heard her giggling madly on the staircase. It dawned upon him that he had displayed bad taste in his selection.

"What have you done to my child?" Mrs. Belcovitch inquired.

"N-n-othing," he stammered; "I only brought her some of my work to see."

"And is this what one shows to a young girl?" demanded the mother indignantly.

"They are only bits of cradles," said Shoss.h.i.+ deprecatingly. "I thought she would like to see what nice workmanly things I turned out. See how smoothly these rockers are carved! There is a thick one, and there is a thin one!"

"Ah! Shameless droll! dost thou make mock of my legs, too?" said Mrs.

Belcovitch. "Out, impudent face, out with thee!"