infant child. "Now where is justice?" demanded the rabbi. But my
mother persisted. For all she knew, her own sons might yet grow up
to become ornaments to israel . . . And she, too, was observing the
ordinances of the Hallah and the Sabbath candles, and the rest of
the laws, no less than Avremel's mother.

More arguments, more tears without arguments--till the rabbi
softened: he could not resist a woman. Then mother took me and
Solomon up to the garret, and ordered us not to venture outside.--

Here the old man interrupted himself by a soft sigh, and
continued:--



To a great extent it was my own fault, wild boy that I was. I broke
my mother's injunction. In the alley, near the house of my parents,
there lived a wine-dealer, Bendet by name. Good wine was to be
found in his cellar. For this reason army officers and other
persons of rank frequented his place, and he was somewhat of a
favorite with them. In short, though he lived in a mean little
alley, those important personages were not averse to calling at his
house. That Bendet had an only child, a daughter. She was
considered beautiful and educated. I had not known her. In my day
they spoke ill of her. Naturally, her father loved her. Is there a
father who loves not his offspring? And how much more such a
daughter, whom everyone loved. However that may be, one day
Bendet's daughter broke away, left her father's house, and renounced
her faith--may we be spared such a fate! And many years after her
father's death she returned to our town, to take possession of her