"Shall you always eat with me?"

"Of course," he answers.

"And--and you will never scold me?"

"_Never._"

"Never make me unhappy?"

"Unhappy? I? You? What do you mean? Why?"

"_I_ don't know, Freude says...."

"_Wa_--the witch!"

He draws nearer to her. She pushes him back.

"Yossele?"

"What is it?"

"Tell me--what is my name?"

"Treine!"

"_Phe!_" the small mouth makes a motion of disgust.

"Treinishe," he corrects himself.

She is not pleased yet.

"Treininyu!"

"No!"

"Well then--Treine my life, Treine my crown, Treine my heart--will that do?"

"Yes," she answers happily, "only--"

"What now, my life, my delight?"

"Only--listen, Yossele,--and--" she stammers.

"And what?"

"And when--if you should be out of work any time--and when I am not earning much--then perhaps, perhaps--you will scold."

The tears come into her eyes.

"G.o.d forbid! G.o.d forbid!"

He forces his head out of her hands, and flings himself upon her parted lips.

"Plague take you altogether, head and hands and feet!" a voice comes from beneath the part.i.tion. "Honey-mooning, as I'm alive! There's no closing an eye--"

It is the husky, acidly-spiteful voice of Freude, the tatterdemalion.

XXV

BETWEEN TWO MOUNTAINS

(Between the Rabbi of Brisk and the Rebbe of Byale)

A Simchas Torah Tale

TOLD BY AN OLD TEACHER

I

Of course you have heard of the Brisk Rabbi and the Byale Rebbe, but it is not everyone who knows that the holy man of Byale, Reb Nach'ke, was at one time the Brisk Rabbi's pupil, that he studied a good couple of years with him, then disappeared for another two, and finally emerged from his voluntary exile as a distinguished man in Byale.

And he left for this reason:

They studied Torah, with the Brisk Rabbi, only the Rebbe felt that it was _dry_ Torah. For instance, one learns about questions regarding women, or about "meat in milk," or else about a money matter--very well.

Reuben and Simon come with a dispute, or there comes a maid-servant or a woman with a question of ritual, and that very moment the study becomes a delight, it is all alive and is there for a purpose.

But like this, without them, the Rebbe felt the Torah, that is, the body of the Torah, the explanation, what lies on the surface, is dry. That, he felt, is not the Law of life. Torah must live! The study of Kabbalah books was not allowed in Brisk. The Brisk Rabbi was a Misnagid, and by nature "revengeful and relentless as a serpent;" if anyone ventured to open a Zohar, a Pardes, he would scold and put him under a ban. Somebody was caught reading a Kabbalah-book, and the Rabbi had his beard shaven by Gentiles! What do you think? The man became distraught, fell into a melancholy, and, what is more wonderful, no "good Jew" was able to help him. The Brisk Rabbi was no trifle, I can tell you! And how was anyone just to get up and go away from his academy?

Reb Nach'ke couldn't make up his mind what to do for a long time.

Then he was shown a dream. He dreamed that the Brisk Rabbi came in to him and said: "Come, Nach, I will take you into the terrestrial Garden of Eden." And he took his hand and led him away thither. They came into a great palace. There were no doors and no windows in this palace, except for the door by which they came in. And yet it was light, for the walls, as it seemed to the Rebbe, were of crystal and gave out a glittering shine.

And so they went on, further and further, and one saw no end to it.

"Hold on to my skirt," said the Brisk Rabbi, "there are halls without doors and without number, and if you let go of me, you will be lost forever."

The Rebbe obeyed, and they went further and further, and the whole way he saw no bench, no chair, no kind of furniture, nothing at all!

"There is no resting here," explained the Brisk Rabbi, "one goes on and on!" And he followed, and every hall was longer and brighter than the last, and the walls shone now with this color and now with that, here with several, and there with all colors--but they did not meet with a single human being on their way.

The Rebbe grew weary walking. He was covered with perspiration, a cold perspiration. He grew cold in every limb, beside which his eyes began to hurt him, from the continual brilliancy.