Part 19 (1/2)

Srul's soap-bubbles collapsed. He had forgotten for the moment that he had a mother.

”She might come to live with us,” Leah hastened to suggest, seeing his o'erclouded face.

”Ah, no, that would be too much of a burden. And Tsirrele, too, is growing up.”

”Tsirrele eats quite as much now as she will in ten years' time,” said Leah, laughing, as she thought fondly of her dear, beautiful little one, her gay whimsies and odd caprices.

”And my mother does not eat very much,” said Srul, wavering.

In this way Srul became a ”piece,” and was dumped down in the Land of Promise.

IV

To the four females left behind--odd fragments of two families thrown into an odder one--the movements of the particular piece, Srul, were the chief interest of existence. The life in the three-roomed wooden cottage soon fell into a routine, Leah going daily to the tropical factory, Biela doing the housework and dreaming of her lover, little Tsirrele frisking about and chattering like the squirrel she was, and Srul's mother dozing and criticising and yearning for her lost son and her unborn grandchildren. By the time Srul's first letter, with its exciting pictorial stamp, arrived from the Land of Promise, the household seemed to have been established on this basis from time immemorial.

”I had a lucky escape, G.o.d be thanked,” Srul wrote. ”For when I arrived in New York I had only fifty-one roubles in my pocket. Now it seems that these rich Americans are so afraid of being overloaded with paupers that they will not let you in, if you have less than fifty dollars, unless you can prove you are sure to prosper. And a dollar, my dear Biela, is a good deal more than a rouble. However, blessed be the Highest One, I learned of this ukase just the day before we arrived, and was able to borrow the difference from a fellow-pa.s.senger, who lent me the money to show the Commissioners. Of course, I had to give it back as soon as I was pa.s.sed, and as I had to pay him five roubles for the use of it, I set foot on the soil of freedom with only forty-six.

However, it was well worth it; for just think, beloved Biela, if I had been s.h.i.+pped back and all that money wasted! The interpreter also said to me, 'I suppose you have got some work to do here?' 'I wish I had,' I said. No sooner had the truth slipped out than my heart seemed turned to ice, for I feared they would reject me after all as a poor wretch out of work. But quite the contrary; it seemed this was only a trap, a snare of the fowler. Poor Caminski fell into it--you remember the red-haired weaver who sold his looms to the Maggid's brother-in-law. He said he had agreed to take a place in a glove factory. It is true, you know, that some Polish Jews have made a glove town in the north, so the poor man thought that would sound plausible. Hence you may expect to see Caminski's red hair back again, unless he takes s.h.i.+p again from Libau and tells the truth at the second attempt. I left him howling in a wooden pen, and declaring he would kill himself rather than face his friends at home with the brand on his head of not being good enough for America. He did not understand that contract-labourers are not let in.

Protection is the word they call it. Hence, I thank G.o.d that my father--his memory for a blessing!--taught me to make Truth the law of my mouth, as it is written. Verily was the word of the Talmud (Tractate Sabbath) fulfilled at the landing-stage: 'Falsehood cannot stay, but truth remains forever.' With G.o.d's help, I shall remain here all my life, for it is a land overflowing with milk and honey. I had almost forgotten to tell my dove that the voyage was hard and bitter as the Egyptian bondage; not because of the ocean, over which I pa.s.sed as easily as our forefathers over the Red Sea, but by reason of the harshness of the overseers, who regarded not our complaints that the meat was not _kosher_, as promised by the agent. Also the b.u.t.ter and meat plates were mixed up. I and many with me lived on dry bread, nor could we always get hot water to make coffee. When my Biela comes across the great waters--G.o.d send her soon--she must take with her salt meat of her own.”

From the first, Srul courageously a.s.sumed that the meat would soon have to be packed; nay, that Leah might almost set about salting it at once. Even the slow beginnings of his profits as a peddler did not daunt him. ”A great country,” he wrote on paper stamped with the Stars and Stripes, with an eagle screaming on the envelope. ”No special taxes for the Jews, permission to travel where you please, the schools open freely to our children, no pa.s.sports and papers at every step, above all, no conscription. No wonder the people call it G.o.d's own country. Truly, as it is written, this is none other but the House of G.o.d, this is the Gate of Heaven. And when Biela comes, it will be Heaven.” Letters like this enlarged the little cottage as with an American room, brightened it as with a fresh wash of blue paint.

Despite the dreary grind of the week, Sabbaths and festivals found the household joyous enough. The wedding-canopy of Srul and Biela was a beacon of light for all four, which made life livable as they struggled toward it. Nevertheless, it came but slowly to meet them: nearly three years oozed by before Srul began to lift his eye toward a store. The hereditary weaver of business combinations had emerged tardily from beneath the logic-weaver and the cloth-weaver, but of late he had been finding himself. ”If I could only get together five hundred dollars clear,” he wrote to Leah. ”For that is all I should have to pay down for a ladies' store near Broadway, and just at the foot of the stairs of the Elevated Railway. What a pity I have only four hundred and thirty-five dollars! Stock and goodwill, and only five hundred dollars cas.h.!.+ The other five hundred could stand over at five per cent. If I were once in the store I could gradually get some of the rooms above (there is already a parlour, in which I shall sleep), and then, as soon as I was making a regular profit, I could send Biela and mother their pa.s.sage-money, and my wife could help 'the boss' behind the counter.”

To hasten the rosy day Leah sent thirty-five roubles, and presently, sure enough, Srul was in possession, and a photograph of the store itself came over to gladden their weary eyes and dilate those of the neighbours. The photograph of Srul, which had come eighteen months before, was not so suited for display, since his peaked cap and his caftan had been replaced by a jacket and a bowler, and, but for the ear-locks which were still in the picture, he would have looked like a factory-owner. In return, Srul received a photograph of the four--taken together, for economy's sake--Leah with her arm around Biela's waist, and Tsirrele sitting in his mother's lap.

V

But a long, wearying struggle was still before the new ”boss,” and two years crept along, with their turns of luck and ill-luck, of bargains and bad debts, ere the visionary marriage-canopy (that seemed to span the Atlantic) began to stand solidly on American soil. The third year was not half over ere Srul actually sent the money for Biela's pa.s.sage, together with a handsome ”waist” from his stock, for her to wear. But Biela was too timid to embark alone without Srul's mother, whose fare Srul could not yet manage to withdraw from his capital.

Leah, of course, offered to advance it, but Biela refused this vehemently, because a new hope had begun to spring up in her breast.

Why should she be parted from her family at all? Since her marriage had been delayed these five and a half years, a few months more or less could make no difference. Let Leah's savings, then, be for Leah's pa.s.sage (and Tsirrele's) and to give her a start in the New World. ”It rains, even in America, and there are umbrella factories there, too,”

she urged. ”You will make twice the living. Look at Srul!”

And there was a new fear, too, which haunted Biela's aching heart, but which she dared not express to Leah. Leah's eyes were getting worse.

The temperature of the factory was a daily hurt, and then, too, she had read so many vilely printed Yiddish books and papers by the light of the tallow candle. What if she were going blind? What if, while she, Biela, was happy with Srul, Leah should be starving with Tsirrele? No, they must all remain together: and she clung to her sister, with tears.

To Leah the prospect of witnessing her sister's happiness was so seductive that she tried to take the lowest estimate of her own chances of finding work in New York. Her savings, almost eaten up by the journey, could not last long, and it would be terrible to have to come upon Srul for help, a man with a wife and (if G.o.d were good) children, to say nothing of his old mother. No, she could not risk Tsirrele's bread.

But the increased trouble with her eyes turned her in favour of going, though, curiously enough, for a side reason quite unlike Biela's.

Leah, too, was afraid of a serious breakdown, though she would not hint her fears to any one else. From her miscellaneous Yiddish reading she had gathered that miraculous eye-doctors lived in Konigsberg. Now a journey to Germany was not to be thought of; if she went to America, however, it could be taken en route. It would be a sort of saving, and few things appealed to Leah as much as economy. This was why, some four months later, the ancient furniture of the blue-washed cottage was sold off, and the quartette set their faces for America by way of Germany. The farewell to the home of their youth took place in the cemetery among the high-shouldered Hebrew-speaking stones. Leah and Biela pa.s.sionately invoked the spirits of their dead parents and bade them watch over their children. The old woman scribbled Srul and Biela's interlinked names over the flat tomb of a holy scholar. ”Take their names up to the Highest One,” she pleaded. ”Entreat that their quiver be full, for the sake of thy righteousness.”

More dead than alive, the four ”pieces” with their bundles arrived at Hamburg. Days and nights of travelling, packed like ”freight” in hard, dirty wooden carriages, the endless worry of pa.s.sports, tickets, questions, hygienic inspections and processes, the illegal exactions of petty officials, the strange phantasmagoria of places and faces--all this had left them dazed. Only two things kept up their spirits--the image of Srul waiting on the Transatlantic wharf in hymeneal attire, and the ”pooh-pooh” of the miraculous Konigsberg doctor, rea.s.suring Leah as to her eyes. There was nothing radically the matter. Even the inflamed eyelids--though incurable, because hereditary--would improve with care. Peasant-like, Leah craved a lotion. ”The sea voyage and the rest will do you more good than my medicines. And don't read so much.” Not a groschen did Leah have to pay for the great specialist's services. It was the first time in her hard life anybody had done anything for her for nothing, and her involuntary weeping over this phenomenon tended to hurt the very eyelids under attention. They were still further taxed by the kindness of the Jewish committee at Hamburg, on the look-out to smooth the path of poor emigrants and overcome their dietary difficulties. But it was a crowded s.h.i.+p, and our party reverted again to ”freight.” With some of the other females, they were accommodated in hammocks swung over the very dining-tables, so that they must needs rise at dawn and be cleared away before breakfast. The hot, oily whiff of the cooking-engines came through the rocking doorway. Of the quartette, only Tsirrele escaped sea-sickness, but ”baby” was too accustomed to be petted and nursed to be able suddenly to pet and nurse, and she would spend hours on the slip of lower deck, peering into the fairy saloons which were vivified by bugle instead of bell, and in which beautiful people ate dishes fit for the saints in Heaven. By an effort of will, Leah soon returned to her role of factotum, but the old woman and Biela remained limp to the end. Fortunately, there was only one day of heavy rolling and battened-down hatches. For the bulk of the voyage the great vessel brushed the pack of waves disdainfully aside. And one wonderful day, amid unspeakable joy, New York arrived, preceded by a tug and by a boat that conveyed inquiring officials. The great statue of Liberty, on Bedloe's Island, upheld its torch to light the new-comers' path. Srul--there he is on the wharf, dear old Srul!--G.o.d bless him! despite his close-cropped hair and his shaven ear-locks. Ah! Heaven be praised! Don't you see him waving? Ah, but we, too, must be content with waving. For here only the _tschinovniks_ of the gilded saloon may land. The ”freight” must be packed later into rigid gangs, according to the s.h.i.+p's manifest, transferred to a smaller steamer and discharged on Ellis Island, a little beyond Bedloe's.

VI

And at Ellis Island a terrible thing happened, unforeseen--a s.h.i.+pwreck in the very harbour.

As the ”freight” filed slowly along the corridor-cages in the great bare hall, like cattle inspected at ports by the veterinary surgeon, it came into the doctor's head that Leah's eye-trouble was infectious.

”Granular lids--contagious,” he diagnosed it on paper. And this diagnosis was a flaming sword that turned every way, guarding against Leah the Land of Promise.