Part 12 (1/2)

Work is very slack at this time of year. But G.o.d is good.”

”Can't you sell something?” said Reb Shemuel, thoughtfully caressing his long, gray-streaked black beard.

”I have sold lemons, but the four or five s.h.i.+llings I made went in bread for the children and in rent. Money runs through the fingers somehow, with a family of five and a frosty winter. When the lemons were gone I stood where I started.”

The Rabbi sighed sympathetically and slipped half-a-crown into Moses's palm. Then he hurried out. His boy, Levi, stayed behind a moment to finish a transaction involving the barter of a pea-shooter for some of Solomon's b.u.t.tons. Levi was two years older than Solomon, and was further removed from him by going to a ”middle cla.s.s school.” His manner towards Solomon was of a corresponding condescension. But it took a great deal to overawe Solomon, who, with the national humor, possessed the national _Chutzpah_, which is variously translated enterprise, audacity, brazen impudence and cheek.

”I say, Levi,” he said, ”we've got no school to-day. Won't you come round this morning and play I-spy-I in our street? There are some splendid corners for hiding, and they are putting up new buildings all round with lovely h.o.a.rdings, and they're knocking down a pickle warehouse, and while you are hiding in the rubbish you sometimes pick up scrumptious bits of pickled walnut. Oh, golly, ain't they prime!'”

Levi turned up his nose.

”We've got plenty of whole walnuts at home,” he said.

Solomon felt snubbed. He became aware that this tall boy had smart black clothes, which would not be improved by rubbing against his own greasy corduroys.

”Oh, well,” he said, ”I can get lots of boys, and girls, too.”

”Say,” said Levi, turning back a little. ”That little girl your father brought upstairs here on the Rejoicing of the Law, that was your sister, wasn't it?”

”Esther, d'ye mean?”

”How should I know? A little, dark girl, with a print dress, rather pretty--not a bit like you.”

”Yes, that's our Esther--she's in the sixth standard and only eleven.”

”We don't have standards in our school!” said Levi contemptuously. ”Will your sister join in the I-spy-I?”

”No, she can't run,” replied Solomon, half apologetically. ”She only likes to read. She reads all my 'Boys of England' and things, and now she's got hold of a little brown book she keeps all to herself. I like reading, too, but I do it in school or in _Shool_, where there's nothing better to do.”

”Has she got a holiday to-day, too?”

”Yes,” said Solomon.

”But my school's open,” said Levi enviously, and Solomon lost the feeling of inferiority, and felt avenged.

”Come, then, Solomon,” said his father, who had reached the door. The two converted part of the half-crown into French loaves and carried them home to form an unexpected breakfast.

Meantime Reb Shemuel, whose full name was the Reverend Samuel Jacobs, also proceeded to breakfast. His house lay near the _Shool_, and was approached by an avenue of mendicants. He arrived in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves.

”Quick, Simcha, give me my new coat. It is very cold this morning.”

”You've given away your coat again!” shrieked his wife, who, though her name meant ”Rejoicing,” was more often upbraiding.

”Yes, it was only an old one, Simcha,” said the Rabbi deprecatingly. He took off his high hat and replaced it by a little black cap which he carried in his tail pocket.

”You'll ruin me, Shemuel!” moaned Simcha, wringing her hands. ”You'd give away the s.h.i.+rt off your skin to a pack of good-for-nothing _Schnorrers_.”

”Yes, if they had only their skin in the world. Why not?” said the old Rabbi, a pacific gleam in his large gazelle-like eyes. ”Perhaps my coat may have the honor to cover Elijah the prophet.”

”Elijah the prophet!” snorted Simcha. ”Elijah has sense enough to stay in heaven and not go wandering about s.h.i.+vering in the fog and frost of this G.o.d-accursed country.”