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September 09, 1926 - Image 24

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Detroit Jewish Chronicle, 1926-09-09

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

ie

American lavish Periodical Center

CUPTON AVENUE • CINCINNATI 20, 01110

PAGE SEVEN

24.;pernorrjaisnifIROX 1C16

ol


one's own self. It is true that it once I I asked. Rut I can only come on con-
the school a little too often. Ile al- to and fro for a minute, and began happened that a bridegroom-elect dition that no one knows anything
ways called the teacher outside where to recite the "Song of Songs" to a named Eli was flogged at our school about it, Can you promise me that?"
they stood talking together for some beautiful melody, first introducing this because he had been caught sliding 1 "As I serve God!" he exclaimed, and
minutes, whispering and getting ex- c(ommentary on it:
on the ice with the Gentile boys of lifted his eyebrows at me.
f soogs ,„ song stove
Tchitehick lived far (sit of the town
cited. The matchmaker gesticulated
the town. But, for that again, the
with his hands and shrugged his shout- all songs! All other songs have been whole town made a tine business of in a little while house that had tiny
a prophet, but this song has the flogging afterwards. W hen the windows and painted shutters, Mad-
do-rs. Ile always finished up with a sung
been sung by a prophet who was the scandal reached the ears . of Eli's be- ing up to it there was a big given
sigh and said:
"Well, its the same story again. on of a prophet. All other songs trothed she cried so much until the garden, from out of which peeped,
If it is destined it will probably take have been sung by a num of wisdom, marriage contract was sent back to proudly, a number of tall, yellow sun-
place. How can we know anything but this song has been sung by a man the bridegroom-elect, to Eli, that is. flowers, as if they were something im-
They bent their heads it
— of wisd(om who was the son of a man And, through grief and shame, he portant.
how?"
of wisdom. All other songs have been would base thrown himself into the little to 0110 side, shook themselves to
When the visitors came in, our sung hp kings, but this song has been
river but that the water was frozen. and fro and it Seemed to me they were
teacher, Reb Zorach, did not know sung.
by a king who was the son of a
Nearly as bad a misfortune hap. calling out to me: "('ome over here
what to do or where he was to seat
not because to us, lay! There is grass here!
them. Ile took hold of the kitchen kin g. "
paned In me. But it was
was not because There is freedom here! There is light
was singing, I glanced
I
While
stool on which his wife salted the
I got a flogging, and
meat and first of all spun round and quickly at my audience. And on each I wen sliding on the ice. It was lo- here! It is fresh here! It is , . worst
• •
More! It is pleasant here
a different expres-
round with it several times and went face 1 could SIT
cause of a fiddle.
heat and
And after the stench AMI
up and down the whole length of sion, On my father's face I could
after
the
over-
And here is the story for you:
dust of the town and
the room. After this he barely mans see pride and phoasurc. (In my teach-
At our wine shop we had a frequent crowding an d the noise and the tu-
aged to place the stool on the floor (or's face was fear and anxiety, lest,
mull of the school, 01W Wits indeed
he at Once jumped up again, greatly God forbid! I should niche a mistake visitor, Tchitchick, the
• when he sat down On it himself. But or commit errors in reading. His lips oluctor, whom we used to cull "Mr. glad to get here, lot-cause there is
confused, and he caught hold of the in silence repeated every word after Sergeant." Ile was a tall, powerful grass here, it is warm here, it is
back picket of his long coat, just as me. Hershel, the tax collector, sat man with a big, pound 'ward and ter- pleasant here. One longs to run, leap,
with his head a little to one side, rifying eyebrows. And he talked a shout and sing. Or else one suddenly
if he had lost It purse of money.
i - the ends of his yellow beard in his curiously mixed-up language, made up witnts to throw oneself on the bare
"Here is a stool. Sit down," h
mouth, one little eye closed, the other of several languages. When he talked earth to bury one's face in the green,
down. sweet-smelling grass. liut, also! This
said
to all
his right!
visitors.
"It's
Sit down, sit down," staring up at the ceiling. Ile wits lis- he ?moved his eyebrows up and
We have teeing with the air of at great, great Whe9 he law'!" his eyebrow's his is not for you, Jewish children! Yel-
said my father to hint.
face was black as night. When he low sunflowers, green leaves, fresh air,
come in to you,.Reb Zorach, only fur judge. Reb Shalom Schachno, the raised them up his face seas bright as pure earth or a clear sky. Ito not be
a minute. This gentleman wants to matchmaker, never took his eyes off
day. And this was because, under offended, Jewish children, but all these
examine nip son—to see what he Hershel for a single minute. He sal
with half his bood• finning forward, these same thick eyebrows, he had a have , not grown up (out of your rub-
knows of the Bible."
shaking himself to and fro, as I did. pair of kindly, smiling, light blue lush
And my father pointed to Herschel, And he could not restrain himself eyes. Ile wore a uniform with gilt
I Was met by a big, shaggy-haired
the
tax by
collector.
"Oh
all means! Why not?" from interrupting me many times by buttons, and that is why he was called, dog, with red, fiery eyes. Ile fell upon
,
at our place, "Mr. Sergeant." Ile was me with so much fierceness that the
answered the teacher, Reb Zorach. He an exclamation, a little laugh and a a very frequent visitor at our wine soul almost dropped out of my body.
o all in one breath , as he waved
twook up a little Bible and handed it '''rug'
his double-jointed finger in the air. shop. • N(ot because he was a drunkard. It was fortunate that he was tied up
to Hershel, the tax collector. The
"When people say that he knows— God tortoni! But for the simple rea. with a rope. On hearing my servants,
expression on his face was as if he
son that my father was very eleven Tchitchick flew out, without his jack-
were saying: "Here it is for you, then he knows!
at making from raisins the best and et, and began ordering the dog to be
A few days after this plates were
and do what you like."
finest Hungarian wine. Tchitchick silent. And he was silent. After-
and in a fortunate hour I was
Ilershel, the tax collector, took the broken,
betrothed to Hershel's, the tax col- used to love this wine. Ile never ceased wards Tchitchick took hold •of my
Bible in his hand like a man who lector, only daughter, Plesteril. from praising it. He used to put his hand, brought me straight to the black
knows thoroughly what he is• han-
It sometimes happens that a man big, terrifying hand on father's shoul- dog and told nie not to be afraid. Ile
dling. Ile twisted his Bitty head to
would not harm me. "Just try and
and say to him:
one side, closed one eye, turned and grows in one (lay more than anybody der "Mr.
Cellarer, you have the best pat hint on the back," said Tchitchick
was
hen
grows in lo years. When
turned the pages and gave me to read
Hungarian wine. There isn't s(.1.11 to nit-. And without waiting he took
the first chapter of the "Sung of Ixtrothed I all at once began to feel wine in Buda l'esth, by God!"
hold of my hand and drew it over
that I was a grown up. Surely I
Songs."
With me Tchitchick was always on the dog's skin, at the same time call-
was
the
same
as
before
and
yet
was
of
Songs?'"
asked
ing him many curious names and
"Is it the 'Song
WAS the most intimate terms. Ile praised
my teacher, with a faint smile, as if not the RAMO RS before and yet I
toe. fur learning such a lot at school. speaking kind words to him. The
he would say: "Could you find moth- not the same. From my smallest com-
black villain lowered his head, wag-
Ile
often
examined
me
to
see
if
I
rade to my teacher, R•li Zorach, every-
Mg more difficult?"
knew: who Adam was. And who was ged his tail and licked himself with
The 'Song of Songs,'" replied Her- body now began to look upon me with
his tongue. lie threw at me a glance
Isaac?
And
who
was
Joseph?
shel, the tax collector, "The 'Song of more respect: After all, I was
"Do you mean Yousef the Saint?" of contempt, as if he would say: "It is
Songs' is not as easy as you imagine. a bridegroom-elect, and had a watch.
your good luck that my toaster is
"Joseph,"
I
corrected
him
once
gave
up
shouting
One must understand the 'Song of And my father Also
standing here, otherwise you would

again.
" (Herschel could not pro- at me. Of Sillacks there is no need
have gone from here without a hand."
"With
us
it's
Joseph.
With
you
to say anything. How could anyone
nounce the letter It but said fl),
I got over my terror of the dog. I
it's Yousef," said he to me, and pinch-
"Certainly," put in Shalom Shach- take hold of a bridegroont-elect who ed my cheek. "Joseph, Youolsef, You- entered the house with "Mr. Sergeant"
had a gold watch and smack his face
no with a little laugh.
and
I was struck dumb with aston-
set, Osodsepf—what does it matter?
The teacher gave me a wink. I for him? It would be a disgrace be-
ishment. All the walls were covered
It is all the sam•."
went over to the table, shook myself fore the whole world and a shame for
with
guns from top to bottom. And
"Ha! Ila! Ha!"
I buried my face in my hands and on the floor lay a skin with the head
of
a
lion
or a leopard. It had ter-
NIMMV9i laughed heartily.
SktgilloliWC7C%KWWINI•WIeWkWA N WAIIMMIMA
But from the day I became a bride- ribly sharp teeth. But the lion was
only
half
an evil. After all, it Was
groom-elect, Tchitchick gave up play-
ing with me as if I were a clown, and dead. But the guns—the guns!
I
did
nut
even care about the fresh
his equal. Ile told me stories of the
regiment, and of musicians. "Mr. Ser- plums and apples which the master
of
the
house
offered me out of his
geant," had a tremendous lot of talk
in him. But no one else, excepting my- own garden. My eyes did not cease
leaping
from
one wall to the other
self, had the time to listen to him. On
one occasion he began to talk to me • • • But, later on, when Tchit-
chick toolCa little fiddle nut of a red
of playing. Anti I asked him.
"On what instrument does 'Mr. Ser- drawer—a beautiful, round little fid-
dle, with a curious little. belly, let
gent' play."
"On all instruments," he answered, his big, spreading blard droop over it
and held it with his( big, strong hands
and raised his eyebrows at me.
"On the fiddle also?" I asked hint. and drew the bow across the strings
And, all at once, he took on, in my a few times backwards and forward!
I forgot, in the blinking of -an eye
imagination, the face of an angel.
"Come over to me some day," he the black dog and the terrible lion
and the loaded guns. I only saw be-
said, "and I will play for you."
"When can I come to you, 'Mr.
(Turn to page 12.)
Sergeant,' if not on the Sabbath day!"

loorr:

„The ,song o

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