Part 10 (2/2)
Half a dozen, hands grasped the _Maggid's_; half a dozen others thumped him on the back. He was pushed into a chair. They gave him a gla.s.s of brandy, they heaped a plate with fried fish. Verily the _Maggid_, who was in truth sore ahungered, was in luck's way. He blessed Providence and the Jewish Marriage Law.
”But you had better not reckon that a divorce,” he warned them between two mouthfuls. ”You had better go to Reb Shemuel, the maiden's father, and let him arrange the _Gett_ beyond reach of cavil.”
”But Reb Shemuel is away,” said Mrs. Jacobs.
”And I must go away, too, by the first train to-morrow,” said Sam.
”However, there's no hurry. I'll arrange to run up to town again in a fortnight or so, and then Reb Shemuel shall see that we are properly untied. You don't mind being my wife for a fortnight, I hope, Miss Jacobs?” asked Sam, winking gleefully at Leah. She smiled back at him and they laughed together over the danger they had just escaped. Hannah laughed too, in contemptuous amus.e.m.e.nt at the rigidity of Jewish Law.
”I'll tell you what, Sam, can't you come back for next Sat.u.r.day week?”
said Leah.
”Why?” asked Sam. ”What's on?”
”The Purim Ball at the Club. As you've got to come back to give Hannah _Gett_, you might as well come in time to take me to the ball.”
”Right you are,” said Sam cheerfully.
Leah clapped her hands. ”Oh that will be jolly,” she said. ”And we'll take Hannah with us,” she added as an afterthought.
”Is that by way of compensation for losing my husband?” Hannah asked with a smile.
Leah gave a happy laugh, and turned the new ring on her finger in delighted contemplation.
”All's well that ends well,” said Sam. ”Through this joke Leah will be the belle of the Purim Ball. I think I deserve another piece of plaice, Leah, for that compliment. As for you, Mr. Maggid, you're a saint and a Talmud sage!”
The _Maggid's_ face was brightened by a smile. He intoned the grace with unction when the meal ended, and everybody joined in heartily at the specifically vocal portions. Then the _Maggid_ left, and the cards were brought out.
It is inadvisable to play cards _before_ fried fish, because it is well known that you may lose, and losing may ruffle your temper, and you may call your partner an a.s.s, or your partner may call you an a.s.s. To-night the greatest good humor prevailed, though several pounds changed hands.
They played Loo, ”Klobbiyos,” Napoleon, Vingt-et-un, and especially Brag. Solo whist had not yet come in to drive everything else out. Old Hyams did not _spiel_, because he could not afford to, and Hannah Jacobs because she did not care to. These and a few other guests left early.
But the family party stayed late. On a warm green table, under a cheerful gas light, with brandy and whiskey and sweets and fruit to hand, with no trains or busses to catch, what wonder if the light-hearted a.s.sembly played far into the new day?
Meanwhile the Redeemed Son slept peacefully in his crib with his legs curled up, and his little fists clenched beneath the coverlet.
CHAPTER V.
THE PAUPER ALIEN.
Moses Ansell married mainly because all men are mortal. He knew he would die and he wanted an heir. Not to inherit anything, but to say _Kaddish_ for him. _Kaddish_ is the most beautiful and wonderful mourning prayer ever written. Rigidly excluding all references to death and grief, it exhausts itself in supreme glorification of the Eternal and in supplication for peace upon the House of Israel. But its significance has been gradually transformed; human nature, driven away with a pitchfork, has avenged itself by regarding the prayer as a ma.s.s, not without purgatorial efficacy, and so the Jew is reluctant to die without leaving some one qualified to say _Kaddish_ after him every day for a year, and then one day a year. That is one reason why sons are of such domestic importance.
Moses had only a mother in the world when he married Gittel Silverstein, and he hoped to restore the balance of male relatives by this reckless measure. The result was six children, three girls and three _Kaddis.h.i.+m_.
In Gittel, Moses found a tireless helpmate. During her lifetime the family always lived in two rooms, for she had various ways of supplementing the household income. When in London she chared for her cousin Malka at a s.h.i.+lling a day. Likewise she sewed underlinen and st.i.tched slips of fur into caps in the privacy of home and midnight. For all Mrs. Ansell's industry, the family had been a typical group of wandering Jews, straying from town to town in search of better things.
The congregation they left (every town which could muster the minimum of ten men for wors.h.i.+p boasted its _Kehillah_) invariably paid their fare to the next congregation, glad to get rid of them so cheaply, and the new _Kehillah_ jumped at the opportunity of gratifying their restless migratory instinct and sent them to a newer. Thus were they tossed about on the battledores of philanthropy, often reverting to their starting-point, to the disgust of the charitable committees. Yet Moses always made loyal efforts to find work. His versatility was marvellous. There was nothing he could not do badly. He had been glazier, synagogue beadle, picture-frame manufacturer, cantor, peddler, shoemaker in all branches, coat-seller, official executioner of fowls and cattle, Hebrew teacher, fruiterer, circ.u.mciser, professional corpse-watcher, and now he was a tailor out of work.
Unquestionably Malka was right in considering Moses a _Schlemihl_ in comparison with many a fellow-immigrant, who brought indefatigable hand and subtle brain to the struggle for existence, and discarded the prop of charity as soon as he could, and sometimes earlier.
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