The Imported Bridegroom | Page 6

of bones and in her
dotage.
"Don't you know me, auntie?" he implored her. She made no reply, and
went on munching her lips. "Can it be that you don't know Asrielke,
who used to steal raisins from your grocery?"
"She does not understand anything!" Asriel whispered, in
consternation.

IV
Asriel's first Sabbath in the native place he was revisiting was destined
to be a memorable day in the annals of that peaceful little town.
At the synagogue, during the morning service, he was not the only
object of interest. So far as the furtive glances that came through the
peepholes of the women s compartment were concerned, a much
younger guest, from a hamlet near by, had even greater magnetism than
he. Reb [Rabbi, or Mister] Lippe, for forty years the "finest
householder" of the community, expected to marry his youngest
daughter to an Illoui (a prodigy of Talmudic lore), and he now came to
flaunt him, and the five-thousand rouble dowry he represented, before
the congregation.
Only nineteen and a poor orphan, the fame of the prospective
bridegroom, as a marvel of acumen and memory, reached far and wide.
Few of the subtlest rabbinical minds in the district were accounted his
match in debate, and he was said to have some two thousand
Talmudical folios literally at his finger's ends. This means that if you
had placed the tip of your finger on some word of a volume, he could
have told you the word which came under your pressure on any other

page you might name. As we shall have to cultivate the young man's
acquaintance, let it be added that he was quite boyish of figure, and that
had it not been for an excess of smiling frankness, his pale, blue-eyed
face would have formed the nearest Semitic approach to the current
portraits of Lord Byron. His admirers deplored his lack of staidness.
While visiting at Pravly, in a manner, as the guest of the town, he was
detected giving snuff to a pig, and then participating with much
younger boys in a race over the bridge.
His betrothment to Reb Lippe's daughter was still the subject of
negotiation, and there were said to be serious obstacles in the way. The
prodigy's relatives were pleased with Reb Lippe's pedigree and social
rank, but thought that the boy could marry into a wealthier family and
get a prettier girl into the bargain. Nevertheless Reb Lippe's manner at
the synagogue was as though the engagement were an accomplished
fact, and he kept the young man by his side, his own seat being next the
rabbi's, which was by the Holy Ark.
Asriel, as a newcomer, and out of respect for his fabulous wealth, was
also accorded a seat of honor on the other side of the Ark. Before he
had expatriated himself his place used to be near the door--a
circumstance which was fresh in the mind of Reb Lippe, who chafed to
see him divert attention from the prodigy and his purchaser. Now Reb
Lippe was a proud old gentleman, too jealous of the memory of his
rabbinical ancestry and of his own time-honored dignity to give way to
a mere boor of a heckler, no matter how much American gold he had to
atone for his antecedents. Accordingly, when his fellow trustee
suggested that the American ought to be summoned to the reading of
the Third Section in the week's portion of the Pentateuch--the highest
honor connected with the reading of the Law, and one for which the
visiting nabob was sure to pay a liberal donation--the venerable
countenance turned crimson.
"Let the sections be auctioned off!" he jerked out.
The proceeding was seldom practiced on an ordinary Sabbath; but Rep
Lippe's will was law, as peremptory and irresistible as the Law of
Moses, with which it was now concerned. And so the worshippers

presently found themselves converted into so many eyewitnesses of a
battle of purses.
"Five gildens for the Third!" called out the weazen-faced little sexton
from the reading platform, in the traditional sing-song that became his
draggling black beard so well. As a bona-fide business transaction is
not allowed on the holy day, even though the house of God be the sole
gainer by it, the sexton's figures were fictitious--in so far, at least, as
they were understood to represent double the actual amount to be paid
to the synagogue by the purchaser of the good deed.
"Six gildens for the Third!" he went on in interpretation of a frowning
nod from Reb Lippe.
A contemptuous toss of Asriel's head threw another gilden on top of the
sum. Two other members signaled to the auctioneer, and, warming up
to his task, he sang out with gusto, "Eight gildens for the Third!"
Then came in