Part 18 (1/2)

They told me that my father had died, that his soul washed itself in the gla.s.s and dried itself with the linen; that when once I began to say the Kaddish it would fly straight up into heaven.

And I fancied the soul was a bird.

2

One evening the ”helper” was leading me home from Cheder. A few birds flew past me, quite low.

”Neshome'lech fliehen, neshome'lech fliehen!”[30] I sang to myself. The ”helper” turned round upon me:

”You silly!” he said, ”those are birds, ordinary birds.”

Afterwards I asked my mother how one could tell the difference between an ordinary bird and a soul.

3

At fourteen years old, I was studying Gemoreh with the commentaries, and, as luck would have it, under Zerach Kneip.

To this day I don't know if that was his real name, or whether the boys gave it him because he used to pinch (_kneipen_) without mercy.

And he did not wait till one had deserved a pinch; he gave it in advance. ”Remind me,” he would say, ”and by and by we shall settle up our accounts.”

He was a Mohel, and had one pointed, uncut finger nail, and every pinch went to the heart.

And he used to say: ”Don't cry; don't cry about nothing! I only pinch your body! What is it to you if the worms have less to eat when you are in your grave?”

”The body,” said Zerach Kneip, ”is dust. Rub one palm against the other, and you will see.”

And we tried, and saw for ourselves that the body is dust and ashes.

”And what is the soul?” I asked.

”A spirit,” answered the rabbi.

4

Zerach Kneip hated his wife like poison; but his daughter Shprintze was the apple of his eye.

_We_ hated Shprintze, because she told on us, and--we loved the rebbitzin, who sold us beans and peas on credit, and saved us more than once from the rabbi's hands. I was her special favorite. I was given the largest portions, and when the rabbi had hold of me, she would cry: ”Murderer! what are you after, treating an orphan like that? His father's soul will be revenged on you!”

The rabbi would let go of me, and the rebbitzin got what was left.

I remember that one winter's evening I came home from Cheder so pinched by the rabbi and so penetrated by the frost that my skin was quite parched.

And I lifted my eyes to heaven and cried piteously and prayed: ”Tatishe, do be revenged on Zerach Kneip! Lord of the world, what does he want of my soul?”

I forgot that he only pinched the body. But a man is to be excused for what he says in his distress.