iu ll11 1111•111111=0•11•1111111h, PACE SIX THE DETROIT JEWISH CHRONICLE The Chazan and His Voice A Yiddish Story by Abram Raisin. The Chazan of Kalmonik was fold. ing his praying shawl one morning after the service, humming a tune, when he attempted an antricate mu- sical stunt. The sound stuck in his throat, Ile glanced about him anxiously to see whether anyone had noticed it, but there was no one in the synagogue except old Enoch, who was deaf and dumb. The echo of the unsuccessful feat rang in the Chazan's ears as he was walking home, with his praying shawl and phylacteries under his arm. He was astonished, for nothing as seri- ous as that had ever happened to him before. But then he recalled that a few weeks prior, on a Sabbath morn- ing, while he stood at the altar, sur- rounded by his choir, he had failed in the very same way. As luck would have it then, too, no one noticed it. At least his basso did not, and he was a good singer. Certainly, if so expert a musician did not notice it, the congregation would pass it by. Nevertheless, the recollection of both failures weighed heavily upon the Chazan, and felt inclined to try the unlucky note then and there, but the street was crowded with people. Ile decided that he would attempt it at home, EC) he walked briskly, as if someone were at his heels. Ile entered his home very quietly, disposed of his bundles in their cus- tomary place, did not greet his wife, but began at once running up and down the musical scale. His wife ex- claimed: "Did you ever) The day isn't long enough for him! It is not enough that his voice grates on one's ears all day long!" In a terror-stricken voice the Cha- zan spoke, his eyes blinking. "It grates on your ears? What do you mean?" But his imploring look said, "Ilaee mercy on me; even if it does, 5:1 tothing." nut she was too busied with her cooking to heed his looks. She re- peated: "Certainly, it does hurt one's tars—what then? Do you think I have no cars? If you sing with your young men, of course I must bear with the uproar, but now alone—" The Chazan turned as white as chalk as he stammered: "Krona'', what is the matter? Are you out of your mind? What is it you are saying?" "What's the matter with you to- day?' Krona!' exclaimed impatiently. "Enough of this silliness. Go wash yourself for breakfast" Though he bad no appetite, he pro seeded to wash his hands, for he Thought that abstaining from food might make it worse for his voice. When be said the blessing for the meal he chanted the words and glanced shyly at his wife. "I imagined it; it was only my imagina• lion," he muttered. "Voices don't go so easily." But he thought of Reb Meier, another Chazan, who had lost his voice at an early age, and be was full of forebodings. Ile lowered his head to the table and fell into deep meditation. Then he arose and cried out in a loud voice, "Kronah!" "Well, what's the matter? Why do you shriek in such a voice?" she re- plied, entering the room. "Oh, why do you harp on my voice?" the Chazan cried, almost be- side himself. "With whose voice, think you, am I calling? Why do you plague me so?" and his eyes were full of tears. "What do you want?" "A few raw eggs," he murmured. Krona') was not agreeable that morning. "Here's a holiday for you,' she said. "In the middle of the week —eggs. Do you sing tomorrow? Eggs are dear now." "Kronah," the Chazan begged, "let eggs cost what they may—one, two or three hundred roubles—get me two raw eggs and say nothing further." She finally shrugged her shoulders and said: "My bother! He wants raw eggs—all right." When she had left the room the Chazan again tried his voice and listened very carefully to catch the timbre of each note When he found himself unable to take the note which was the cause of all his fear he un- hesitatingly called to Kronah, "Bring here the eggs at once!" Kronah handed the eggs to him with a frown and said angrily, "Nu, what he has a taste for eggs—one scrapes and saves and he—" He would have poured out his heart to her. He would have told her then and there that it wasn't the eggs he wanted; that he did not intend to be extravagant. lie would have told her: "Kronah, look here, 1-1—am a thing of the past, a wornout instrument-- have had my day." But he controlled himself and thought, "Perhaps I am mistaken after all." Ile swallowed the eggs as if they were medicine, and when he had dis- posed of them he attempted several musical runs which required some skill and was successful. At once his spirits rose "Not at all bad! Not at God still lives!" he thought. all! Reb "Voices don't go so easily. Meier, a drinking man, while I do not drink, and even at Bar Mitzvahs take no more than x thimbleful of whisky." "But, alas! His cheerfulness was soon at an end. While trying an- other run the same fatal note rang in his cars, and he was again in a state of great perturbation. The dread of losing his voice wore on him. His thoughts were continu- ously of the effects of the loss on his future. Once before he bad lost his voice, but that was when he was seventeen and his voice, there- fore, had been soprano. When he had lost it then he was disturbed, but pleased, for he knew that it was nat- ural for his voice to change, and that in a hew months he would have a manly baritone, so he waited patient- ly and was rewarded. Why did he guard his voice so carefully? Not because he feared for his position with his people. Hi s congregation would not remove him though he lost it completely, for it did not pay his salary, and was corn- yelled to dun his congregation often; but they would have refused no one who stretched out a begging hand. the was assured on that score. It was for pure love of singing that he feared the loss of his voice. He had a very poor opinion of his con- gregation's musical taste. When he stood at the altar indulging in mu- Pianos to Rent For Summer Homes Everyone Knows the Steinway To argue its merits would be as needless as try- ing to prove the beauty of a flawless diamond— In either, the name alone stands for perfection. I. or those who demand supreme quality in a Piano, it is not a question of which make to choose, but simply to know where the Steinway can be purchased. STEINWAY Grand and Upright Pianos Can be purchased in Michigan only at the House of Grinnell We have the Steinway not only in the conven- tional grand and upright forms, but the Steinway Duo-Art Reproducing Piano and the Steinway Pianola Player-Piano, as well. r. , I ty If you've an instrument you would consider ex- changing toward a Steinway, let us give you esti- mate of exchange allowance. No cost; no obliga- tion. Come in, or phone--Cherry 3600. 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Ilia as- sistants often traveled to neighboring towns and tarried his fame with them and they returned with opinions on music from various Chazonim, and they recounted the stories that were told, and some of the legends were eventually woven about the person- ality of the Chazan of Klamonik. When he heard of these stories, the opinions of his musical colleagues, he would say nothing, but assume a criti- cal mien. Ile would think of what his col- leagues wood say should they learn that his voice was gone. He suffered torments in thinking of their com- miseration. Ile knew that his repu- tation was excellent, and that his col- leagues had a very high opinion of the quality of his voice. And he imagined he saw groups of Chazon shaking their heads mournfully and speaking in whispers. They were sorry for hint, of course. "l'oor fel- low! Haven't you heard? The Cha- zan of Klamonik—" "But I may be mistaken." he thought in hopeful moments, and he would sing a trifle and attempt to take the high note, but whether out of pure fear or the loss of his voice, he could not utter one musical sound. In a period of three weeks he was a changed man. His face was pale, his eyes sunken and feverish, and he was as if he had been wrestling with a giant. "What's the matter, Chazan?" a singer would ask. "The matter?" the Chaian would echo, frightened. "Well, then, what is the matter with me? Do you know anything about it, eh?" "If I knew I wouldn't ask • you. Why do you look so anxious and worried?" "Worried, say you? Anxious? Only that. Nothing more." "Ala" said the knowing ones, "the Chazan must be composing some- thing elegant for the holidays." Four weeks passed. The Chazan was still in dread, for he did not know definitely whether lie had really lost his voice. He was "eating his life out." He would have been content to exclaim, "No help for it. A man its duty to fulfill. It cannot do every- thing, but it can do something. What can't live forever!" But this doubt, hanging between knowledge and ig- norance, reduced him to a skeleton. Filially he resolved to know the truth. It was twilight. His wife had gone to purchase groceries and all his sing- ers had left, except Yossel, the bass. he Chazan kept glancing at him, opened his mouth to speak, but closed It again. At last he said, "Yossel!" "Well, Chazan?" "Tell me—now, you are an honest man I" The other looked at the Chazan amazed. "Why do you tell me this now, Chazan•?" "My brother"—the Chazan almost burst into tears. "Brother Yossel—" and he could say no more. "What is the matter?" "Ile an honest man and tell me the truth!" "I don't understand." "Tile truth. Do you see any change in me?" "Very much," replied Yossel, as he noticed his pallor and emaciation. "A very great changer "Now I see you are an honest man! Tell me frankly,' and he mopped the perspiration from his brow. "Now what do you say, Yossel; is it lost forever?" "What's lost?" Yossel inquired. "What! And you ask? What have to lose—? I mean my voice!" The truth began to dawn on Yos- sel, who was too good a musician to misunderstand any longer. He glanced at the Chazan and asked, "Sure?" "What sure?" And he regained courage. "Perhaps it's not sure! I may be mistaken." Yossel began examining the Cha- zan as if he were a physician. He commanded, "Well, take the 'do's" There was a rasp in the Chazan's voice and he stammered like a raw student, but he sang 'do.' "With more boldness, three-quart- ers time," Yossel repeated. "Now, with your pardon, the 're.'" And the Chazan took a run of "re's" very tremulously, "Re-re-re." Yosscl stood a while in meditation. He then exclaimed dolefully in a tragic voice, "Lost!" "And really, really forever, for- ever?" do you think? You are not a boy; you can't expect another voice. There's no help for it this time." The Chazan dropped his tuning fork, covered his face with his arms and fell upon the table weeping like a child. On the following day Klamonik knew that the Chazan had lost his voice. "And I think," said the inn-keeper, one of the reputable seatholdees in the synagogue. "that is all a rumpus for nothing. What do you think? The next holiday we won't he kept in school so long by his stunts. For my part, I am a plain man, but I assure ,you I wouldn't exchange a bitter onion for all his singing and for his voice, which they say he lost. What do you say?" Zionist Leader Responsible for Soviet-Lithuania Pact. LONDON—Official information has been received here of the agreement arrived at between the Lithuanian and Soviet governments. 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