Stories and Pictures Part 52

"A fast like that on the Day of Atonement, beginning overnight."

The four children tumble out of bed; bare-footed, in their little ragged s.h.i.+rts, they begin to caper round the room, shouting: "We are going to fast, to fast, to fast!"

Mendele screens the light with his shoulders, so that they shall not see their mother's tears:

"There, that will do, children, that will do! Fast-days were not meant for dancing. When the Rejoicing of the Law comes, then we will dance, please G.o.d!" The children get back into bed. Their hunger is forgotten.

One of them, a little girl, starts singing: "Our Father, our King,"

etc., and "On the High Mountain," etc.

Mendele s.h.i.+vers from head to foot.

"One does not sing, either," he says in a choked voice.

The children are silent, and go off to sleep, tired out with singing and dancing. Only the eldest opens his eyes once more and inquires of his father:

"Tate, when shall I be Bar-Mitzwah?"[118]

"Not yet, not for a long time--in another four years. You must grow and get strong."

"Then you will buy me a pair of phylacteries?"

"Of course."

"And a little bag to hold them?"

"Why, certainly!"

"And a little, tiny prayer-book with gilt edges?"

"With G.o.d's help! You must pray to G.o.d, Chamle!"

"Then I shall keep all the fasts!"

"Yes, yes, Chamle, all the fasts," adding, below his breath: "Lord of the world, only not any like this one--not like to-day's."

XX

THE WOMAN MISTRESS HANNAH

A PACKET OF LETTERS

1

Two letters which Hannah received from her brother Menachem Mendil, and one letter from her sister-in-law, Eva Gutel; altogether, three letters.

FIRST LETTER

Life and peace to my worthy sister, Mistress Hannah.

I have received your letter, and I can tell you, I wept tears enough over it, and lay sighing and groaning one whole night long. But what was the good, seeing G.o.d in heaven is witness that I can do nothing to help you? And as to what you write about the inheritance, I must tell you, dear sister, there is no sense in it. According to the Jewish law, you have no claim upon any part. Ask your husband, he is learned, he will tell you the same thing. But you need not wait for him to tell you: a clever woman like you can open the "German Pentateuch" and see for herself that Zelophehad's daughters only inherited because there were no sons. As soon as there are sons, the daughters inherit nothing, and our father left no deed directing you were to inherit half as much as his male descendants.

And all you say about our father, peace be upon him, not having given you the whole of your dowry, has nothing in it, because, if you come to think, who _does_ get the whole? You know _I_ did not, and yet I have no claim on anyone.

Besides, common sense will tell you that if our father, peace be upon him, did not keep to his engagement, neither did the other side, and so the matter rested. The two parties forgave each other, as is the custom among us Jews.

I would not trust my own judgment, but talked the matter over with our rabbi and his a.s.sistants, and we were all agreed that so it should be.

Further, as regards your contention that you boarded at home only half a year instead of a whole one--I know nothing about it. Our father, peace be upon him, never told me. And you know quite well that just then I was living separated from my family and spent the whole time at the Rebbe's, long life to him! and Eva Gutel tells me it was this way: there was a bit of a dispute between you over our mother's seat in the women's Shool (peace be upon her), and you tore each other's hair, and our mother (peace be upon her) was greatly distressed. And one Sabbath evening you picked up your bundle and your husband and were off to his native town.

If so, what do we owe you?

Whom do you mean in your letter? Who asked you to run away? When people want to board, they should board.

But heaven forbid that I should distress you with reproaches! I only wish to show you how unjust you are. Of course, right or wrong, one has to act according to law, specially in the case of a sister. Only--what is the good of wis.h.i.+ng? If one can't, one can't! You must know, dear sister, that before our father of blessed memory departed, he made a will, by which he left the large Talmud to the large house-of-study and the small edition to the small house-of-study; the Mishnayes and the Bible were to be sent to the meeting-room where he used to recite the prayers--the funeral cost two hundred gulden, and I distributed alms to the amount of fifty gulden--what am I saying? a great deal more than fifty. I divided our father's clothes among the poor, except the silk cloak, which I am keeping, agreeably to the will, for my little Mosheh, so that in a propitious hour he may walk in it to the marriage canopy, and may it be soon, even in our days, amen! What remains?

Nothing remains but the house. Well it isn't worth insuring. Even the roof, not of you be it said, has the falling-sickness--it hangs by a hair. The town-justice says, the old fire-wall must be taken down, and altogether it's in a dangerous state.

You fancy, dear sister, that I am doing well for myself! When our father died and there was an end of board, I let the three little rooms to the left to Grunem, the dealer, called Grunem Tzop (you must have known him and his wife Zlate). I worry along with the money, and can only just pay the taxes and other duties that grow from day to day. Meantime I try dodges, give the collector a sip of brandy--come later, come to-morrow!

and so on, but the rope round my neck tightens every day, and what the end of it will be, heaven only knows!

I live in the three rooms to the right, that are one with the inn and the public room. Times are very bad, the villages round about have taken the pledge not to drink brandy. Beside this, the land-owner has opened cheap eating shops and tea houses for the peasants--what more need I say? It's despair! One may stare one's eyes out before one sees a peasant come.

You say in your letter that everyone from here tells you I am flouris.h.i.+ng. The fact is, people see the possessions of others with bigger eyes. One has to struggle for every dreier, and meanwhile there is Beile-Sasha's wedding coming, and I am getting old and gray with it all! The expenses are endless; they will lend you nothing; there is still a silk over-robe wanting for the wedding outfit, and as soon as the wedding is over, my Eva Gutel must consult a doctor. If Shmuel, the Rofeh, advises her to go, you can imagine the condition she must be in.

I consulted the Rebbe (long life to him), and he also advised her going to Warsaw. Her cough gets worse every day--you would think people were chopping wood in the room.

And as to your trying to frighten me by saying that if I don't behave myself, you will write to our relative in Lublin, and she will go to her lawyer, and have me handed over to the Gentiles--you know, my dear sister, that I am not the least afraid. First, because a pious woman like you, my sister, knows very well what a Jewish court is and (lehavdil) what a Gentile court is. You wouldn't do anything so stupid!

No Jewish woman would do that! And, even if you wanted to, you have a husband, and he would never allow such a shameful proceeding. He would never dare to show himself to his Rebbe or at the Stubel again.

Besides that, I advise you not to throw away money on lawyers, they are incredible people; you give and give, and the moment you stop giving, they don't know who you are.

And I must remind you of the Tomashef story which our father, on whom be peace, used to tell. You may have forgotten it, so I will tell it you over again. In Tomashef there died a householder, and his daughter, a divorced woman, fell upon the a.s.sessor--he was to give her a share in the inheritance, according to _their_ custom. As she stood talking with the a.s.sessor, a coal sprang out of the hearth in her room at home, the room took fire, and a child of hers (not of you or any Jew be it said again) was burned.

And I advise you, sister Hannah, to be sorry, and do penance for what you have written. Trouble, as they say, steals a man's wits--but it might, heaven forbid, be brought against you, and you ought to impose something on yourself, if only a day's fasting.

I, for my part, forgive you with my whole heart, and if, please G.o.d, you come to my daughter's wedding, everything will be made up, and we shall all be happy together. Only forbear, for heaven's sake, to begin again about going to law.

And I am vexed on account of your husband, who says nothing to me about his health; if he is angry with me, he commits a sin; he must know what is written about the sinfulness of anger, besides which there is a rumor current that he was not once at the Rebbe's during the Solemn Days, but prayed all the while in the house-of-study, and they also say that he intends to abandon study and take up something or other else. He says he intends to work with his hands. You can imagine the grief this is to me.

Because what shall become of the Torah? And who shall study if not a clever head like him?

He must know that our father, on whom be peace, did not agree to the marriage on _that_ condition. And especially nowadays, when the "nations-of-the-world" are taking to trade, and business decreases daily, it is for the women to do business and for the men to devote themselves to the Torah, and then G.o.d may have mercy on us. It would be better for him to get a diploma as a rabbi, or let him become a Shochet or a teacher--anything--only not a trader! If I were only sure that he wouldn't turn my child's heart away from _my_ Rebbe, I would send him my Mosheh'le for teaching and board.

See to it that your husband gives up those silly notions, and do you buy a shop or a stall--and may the merits of the fathers on your side and on his be your help and stay!