Part 36 (2/2)
”From the Chief Rabbi in Paris,” bellows the Maskil, ”from the Chief Rabbi in Paris (no other will do for him), from the Chief Rabbi in London--”
”Jews, let us go home!” interrupted someone, ”_nisht unsere Leut!_”[73]
And the crowd dispersed as quickly as it had come together. We three remained--and the beadle, who came close to me:
”Give me something,” he said, ”for the day's work.”
I gave him a few ten-kopek pieces, he slipped them into his pocket without counting them, and was off without saying good-bye.
”What do _you_ say, Rabbi?” I asked.
”I don't know what to say, how should I? I am only dreadfully afraid--lest it should do me harm--”
”_You?_”
”Whom else? _You?_ If you don't get any statistics, it will be of no great consequence, for 'He that keepeth Israel will neither slumber nor sleep!' I mean the two extra gulden a week.”
The rebbitzin with the large spectacles has come out from behind the stove.
”I told you long ago,” she says, ”not to interfere in the affairs of the community, but when did you ever listen to me? What has a rabbi to do with _that_ sort of thing? Kohol's business!”
”_Nu_, hush, Rebbitzin, hus.h.!.+” he answers gently; ”you know what I am, I have a soft heart, it touched me, but it's a pity about the two gulden a week.”
TALES THAT ARE TOLD
Sad and perplexed in spirit, I came down from the rabbi, with the Maskil, and into the street. There we came across the beadle, who a.s.sured us that, in his opinion, we should be able to go on with the work to-morrow.
The whole Tararam[74] had been stirred up by two impoverished householders, who were now in great misery; one, a public-house keeper, and the other, a horse-dealer.
The Maskil, for his part, promises to talk the matter over with the townspeople between Minchah and Maariv, and if he doesn't turn the place upside down, then his name is not Shmeril (such a name has a Maskil in Tishewitz!). They may stand on their heads, he said, but the notes must be taken. ”The very authorities that forbade will permit.”
Well done! It is evident that the Maskil had studied in a Cheder, in the great world one meets with other Maskilim.
I go back to the inn; the beadle comes, too. At my host's they still have services, the mourning for his wife not being ended. Between Minchah and Maariv, we get on to politics; after Maariv, on to the Jews.
The greater part are dreadfully optimistic. In the first place, it's not a question of _them_, secondly, plans will not prosper against ”Yainkil,”[75] he has brains of his own; thirdly, it's like a see-saw, now it goes up and now it goes down;[76] fourthly, G.o.d will help; fifthly, ”good Jews” will not allow it to happen.
The old song!
”Believe me,” exclaims one, with small, restless eyes under a low forehead, ”believe me, if there were unity among all 'good Jews,' if they would hold together, as one man, and stop repeating Tachanun,[77]
Messiah would _have_ to come!”
”But the Kozenitz Rebbe, may his memory be blessed, _did_ stop,”
suggested another.
”'One swallow,' replied the young man, 'does not make a summer.' Who talks of their imposing a prohibition on All-Israel?”
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