Part 40 (2/2)

So when a soul is in dolor, Cometh the sweet restful Sabbath, Singing and joy in its footsteps, Rapidly floweth Sambatyon, Till that, of G.o.d's love the symbol, Sabbath, the holy, the peaceful, Husheth its turbulent waters.

Bless Him, O constant companions, Rock from whose stores we have eaten, Eaten have we and have left, too, Just as the Lord hath commanded Father and Shepherd and Feeder.

His is the bread we have eaten, His is the wine we have drunken, Wherefore with lips let us praise Him, Lord of the land of our fathers, Gratefully, ceaselessly chaunting ”None like Jehovah is holy.”

Light and rejoicing to Israel, Sabbath, the soother of sorrows, Comfort of down-trodden Israel, Healing the hearts that were broken!

Banish despair! Here is Hope come, What! A soul crushed! Lo a stranger Bringeth the balsamous Sabbath.

Build, O rebuild thou, Thy Temple, Fill again Zion, Thy city, Clad with delight will we go there, Other and new songs to sing there, Merciful One and All-Holy, Praised for ever and ever.

During the meal the Pollack began to speak with his host about the persecution in the land whence he had come, the bright spot in his picture being the fidelity of his brethren under trial, only a minority deserting and those already tainted with Epicureanism--students wishful of University distinction and such like. Orthodox Jews are rather surprised when men of (secular) education remain in the fold.

Hannah took advantage of a pause in their conversation to say in German:

”I am so glad, father, thou didst not bring that man home.”

”What man?” said Reb Shemuel.

”The dirty monkey-faced little man who talks so much.”

The Reb considered.

”I know none such.”

”Pinchas she means,” said her mother. ”The poet!”

Reb Shemuel looked at her gravely. This did not sound promising.

”Why dost thou speak so harshly of thy fellow-creatures?” he said. ”The man is a scholar and a poet, such as we have too few in Israel.”

”We have too many _Schnorrers_ in Israel already,” retorted Hannah.

”s.h.!.+” whispered Reb Shemuel reddening and indicating his guest with a slight movement of the eye.

Hannah bit her lip in self-humiliation and hastened to load the lucky Pole's plate with an extra piece of fish.

”He has written me a letter,” she went on.

”He has told me so,” he answered. ”He loves thee with a great love.”

”What nonsense, Shemuel!” broke in Simcha, setting down her coffee-cup with work-a-day violence. ”The idea of a man who has not a penny to bless himself with marrying our Hannah! They would be on the Board of Guardians in a month.”

”Money is not everything. Wisdom and learning outweigh much. And as the Midrash says: 'As a scarlet ribbon becometh a black horse, so poverty becometh the daughter of Jacob.' The world stands on the Torah, not on gold; as it is written: 'Better is the Law of Thy mouth to me than thousands of gold or silver.' He is greater than I, for he studies the law for nothing like the fathers of the Mishna while I am paid a salary.”

”Methinks thou art little inferior,” said Simcha, ”for thou retainest little enough thereof. Let Pinchas get nothing for himself, 'tis his affair, but, if he wants my Hannah, he must get something for her. Were the fathers of the Mishna also fathers of families?”

”Certainly; is it not a command--'Be fruitful and multiply'?”

”And how did their families live?”

”Many of our sages were artisans.”

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