In Those Days | Page 4

"veritable jewel," a profound

Lamdan, a noble-hearted man, destined to become great in Israel. It
was unjust to give him away, when there was someone else to take his
place. Besides, Avremel was a married man, and the father of an 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
portion of the inheritance. That happened at a time when we were
hiding in the garret. The town was all agog: people ran from every
street to get a look at the renegade, who came to take possession of a
Jewish inheritance. I, too, was seized with a wild desire to get a look at
her, to curse her, to spit in her face . . . . And I forgot all the dangers
that surrounded me.

Young as I was, I considered myself as a Jew responsible for the
wayward one. I lost control of myself, and ran out. But after I had been
in the street for some time, I was seized with fear of the Catcher. Every
stranger I met seemed to me to be a Catcher. I shrank into myself,
walked unsteadily hither and thither, and did not know how to hide
myself. Then a man met me. His large beard and curled side-locks
made me think he was a good man. I looked at him imploringly. "What
ails you, my boy?" he asked in a soft tone. "I am afraid of the Catcher,"
said I, tearfully.
"Whose son are you?"
I told him.
"Then come with me, and I shall hide you, my boy. Don't be afraid. I
am your uncle. Don't you recognize me?"
He took me by the arm, and I went after him. Then I noticed that the
children of my neighborhood were eyeing me terror-stricken. The
womenfolk saw me, wrung their hands, and lamented aloud.
"What are they crying about?" I wondered.
"Do you want some candy? Your uncle has plenty of it," said he,
bending over me, as if to protect me. "Or maybe your feet hurt you? Let
your uncle take you on his arms." As soon as I heard "candy," I felt that
the man was the Catcher himself, and I tried to break away. But the
"uncle" held me fast. Then I began to yell. It was near our house, and
the people of our alley rushed towards us, some yelling, some crying,
some armed with sticks. Pretty soon I recognized my mother's voice in
the mixture of voices and noises. You see, peculiar is the charm of a
mother's voice: a knife may be held to one's throat, but the mere sound
of mother's voice awakens new courage and begets new hope. Mother
made a way for herself, and fell upon the Catcher like a wild beast. She
struck, she pinched, she scratched, she pulled his hair, she bit him. But
what can a woman do in the line of beating? Nothing! Her neighbors
joined her, one, two, three; and all tried hard to take me out of the
hands of the Catcher. What can a few women do against one

able-bodied man? Nothing at all! That happened during the dinner hour.
One of our neighbors got