Rabbi and Priest | Page 9

Czar, I swear that, unless you repair the
damage, I shall feed your carcass to the dogs."
Poor Jacob was too terrified to understand of what crime he had been
accused. He looked piteously at his tormentor, and burst into tears.
"Well?" cried the peasant, impatiently; "will you take off the spell, or
shall I call my dog?"
The child, knowing that such threats were not made in vain, endeavored
to plead his innocence, but the bellowing of the hungry calf outweighed
the sobbing of the boy, and with an angry oath Jacob was struck to the
ground, and a ferocious bull-dog, but little more brutal than his master,
was set upon the helpless little fellow.
"Please, Mr. Farmer, don't kill me," he pleaded, groaning in pain.

"Will you cure my cow?" demanded the peasant.
"I'll try to; I'll do my best," sobbed the boy, whose pain made him
diplomatic at last.
The dog was called off, and the child, after promising to restore the
cow to her former condition, was turned out into the lane, where his
mother found him an hour later, unconscious, his body lacerated, one
arm broken, and a portion of his right ear torn off.
When Reb Mordecai concluded his sad narration, all about him were in
tears.
"Just God!" exclaimed the uncle; "hast Thou indeed deserted Thy
people, that Thou canst allow such indignities? How long, O Lord!
must we endure these torments?"
"Nay, brother," sobbed the poor mother, while she caressed her ailing
boy; "what God does is for the best. It is not for us to peer into his
inscrutable actions. But come, Mordecai, banish your sorrows. This is
Shabbes, a day of joy and peace. Come, the table is spread."
Father and mother placed their hands upon the heads of their children,
and pronounced the solemn blessing:--"May God let you become like
Ephraim and Manasseh!" and the family took their places at the table.
Then Mordecai made kiddush, which consisted in blessing the wine,
without which no Jewish Sabbath is complete, and having pronounced
motzi, a similar prayer over the bread, he dipped the latter in salt, and
passed a small piece to each of the participants. It is a ceremony which
no pious Jew ever neglects.
In spite of the recent affliction, the meal was a merry one. The poorest
Israelite will deny himself even the necessaries of life during the six
working-days, that he may live well on the Sabbath. Reb Mordecai was
a poor man. He had a small income, derived from teaching the Talmud
to the children in the vicinity, from transcribing the holy scrolls, and
from sundry bits of work for which he was fitted by his intellectual

attainments. He was the most influential Jew in the settlement and not
even the fanatical serfs of the village could find a complaint to make
against his character or person.
The theme of conversation was naturally the family festival, which
would take place upon the morrow. Mendel having attained his
thirteenth year and acquired due proficiency in the difficult studies of
the Jewish law, would become bar-mitzvah; in other words, he would
take upon himself the responsibility of a man before God and the world,
and acknowledge his readiness to act and suffer for the maintenance of
the belief in Adonai Echod--the only God. Mendel, under his father's
tuition, had made rapid strides. He was the wonder of every male
inhabitant of the community. His knowledge of the Scriptures was
simply phenomenal, and his philosophical reasoning puzzled and
astonished his friends.
"He will be a great rabbi some day," they prophesied.
Hirsch Bensef had journeyed all the way from Kief to take part in the
family festival. There were some privileges which not even the wealthy
Jews of Russia could purchase, and among them was the right to travel
in a public conveyance. Hirsch was obliged to journey as best he could.
A kindly disposed wagoner had permitted him to ride part of the way,
but the greater portion of the distance he was compelled to walk. Still,
at any cost, he had determined not to miss so important an event as his
nephew's bar-mitzvah.
The bread having been broken, the supper was proceeded with. The fish
was succulent and the cake delicious. A lofty and religious Sabbath
sentiment enhanced the charm of the whole meal. Then a prayer of
thanks was offered, the dishes were cleared away and the family settled
themselves at ease, to discuss the topics most dear to them.
"You make a great mistake, sister," said Bensef, "if you allow Mendel
to waste his time in this village. The boy is much too bright for his
surroundings."
"Don't begin that subject again," said the mother, determinedly; "for I

positively will not hear of his leaving. The parting