In Those Days | Page 2

came to hear the story of old Samuel's life from the beginning till that
day.
It was the rainy season; the roads were muddy, and the horses moved
with difficulty. The driver made frequent stops, and whenever the road
showed the slightest inclination to go uphill he would intimate that it
might be well for us to dismount and walk beside the coach a little.
The cold drizzle penetrated to our very skin and made our flesh creep.
The warmth we had brought with us from the house was evaporating,
and with it went the merry humor of the old man. He began to
contemplate his son, who sat opposite to him, looking him over up and
down.
The wise "lord and master," who had tried to instruct his wife at home
and celebrate the fact of her having reared a soldier for the army, he
failed himself to stand the trial: he began to feel the pangs of longing

and lonesomeness. The imminent parting with his son, to take place on
the morrow, seemed to depress him greatly.
Bent and silent he sat, and one could see that he was lost in a maze of
thoughts and emotions, which came crowding in upon him in spite of
himself.
I took a seat opposite to him, so that I might enter into a conversation
with him.
"Do you remember all that happened to you in those days?" I asked by
way of starting the conversation.
He seemed to welcome my question. In that hour of trial the old man
was eager to unload his bosom, to share his thoughts with some one,
and return mentally to all the landmarks of his own life, till he reached
the period corresponding to that into which he was introducing his son.
The old man took out his well-beloved short pipe. According to his
story it had been a present from his superior officer, and it had served
him ever since. He filled the pipe, struck a match, and was enveloped in
smoke.

II
You ask me whether I remember everything--he began from behind the
smoke. Why, I see it all as if it had happened yesterday. I do not know
exactly how old I was then. I remember only that my brother Solomon
became a Bar-Mitzwah at that time. Then there was Dovidl, another
brother, younger than Solomon, but older than myself; but he had died
before that time. I must have been about eleven years old.
Just then the mothers fell a-worrying: a Catcher was coming to town.
According to some he had already arrived.
At the Heder the boys were telling one another that the Catcher was a
monster, who caught boys, made soldiers out of them, and turned them
over to the Government, in place of the Jewish grown-ups that were

unwilling and unable to serve. And the boys were divided in their
opinions: some said that the Catcher was a demon, one of those who
had been created at twilight on the eve of the Sabbath. Others said that
he was simply a "heathen," and some others, that he was an "apostate."
Then, there were some who asserted that he was merely a bad Jew,
though a learned one nevertheless;--that he wore the regular Jewish
costume, the long coat and the broad waistband, and had the
Tallis-Koton on his breast, so that the curse of the righteous could not
hurt him. According to rumor, he was in the habit of distributing nuts
and candy among Jewish boys; and if any one tasted of them, he could
not move from the spot, until the Catcher put his hand on him and
"caught" him. I happened to overhear a conversation between father
and mother, and I gathered from it that I need not fear the Catcher.
It was a Saturday night, soon after the death of my elder brother Dovidl,
within the period of the thirty days' mourning for him. Mother would
not be consoled, for Dovidl had been her "very best."
Three brothers had I. The first-born, Simhah, may he rest in peace, had
been married long before; he was the junior Shohet in town, and a
candidate for the Rabbinate. Solomon was more learned in the Torah,
young though he was, peace be unto him. . . . Well, they are now in the
world-of-truth, in the world-to-come, both of them. But Dovidl, had he
lived, would have excelled them both. That is the way of the Angel of
Death, he chooses the very best. As to myself--why deny it?--I was a
dullard. Somehow my soul was not attuned to the Torah.
As I said, mother was uttering complaints against Heaven, always
crying. Yes, in the matter of tears they are experts. I have pondered
over it, and have found