ry groschen that was given
her to buy sweets, and bribed her brother Solomon, who was proud of
his scholarship, to give her lessons in secret. The two strove
earnestly with book and quill, in their hiding-place under the
rafters, till my mother could read and write Russian, and translate a
simple passage of Hebrew.

My grandmother, although herself a good housewife, took no pains to
teach her only daughter the domestic arts. She only petted and coddled
her and sent her out to play. But my mother was as ambitious about
housework as about books. She coaxed the housemaid to let her mix the
bread. She learned knitting from watching her playmates. She was
healthy and active, quick at everything, and restless with unspent
energy. Therefore she was quite willing, at the age of ten, to go into
her father's business as his chief assistant.

As the years went by she developed a decided talent for business, so
that her father could safely leave all his affairs in her hands if he
had to go out of town. Her devotion, ability, and tireless energy made
her, in time, indispensable. My grandfather was obliged to admit that
the little learning she had stolen was turned to good account, when he
saw how well she could keep his books, and how smoothly she got along
with Russian and Polish customers. Perhaps that was the argument that
induced him, after obstinate years, to remove his veto from my
mother's petitions and let her take up lessons again. For while piety
was my grandfather's chief concern on the godly side, on the worldly
side he set success in business above everything.

My mother was fifteen years old when she entered on a career of higher
education. For two hours daily she was released from the store, and in
that interval she strove with might and main to conquer the world
of knowledge. Katrina Petrovna, her teacher, praised and encouraged
her; and there was no reason why the promising pupil should not have
developed into a young lady of culture, with Madame teaching Russian,
German, crocheting, and singing--yes, out of a book, to the
accompaniment of a clavier--all for a fee of seventy-five kopecks a
week.

[Illustration: THE WOOD MARKET, POLOTZK]

Did I say there was no reason? And what about the marriage broker?
Hannah Hayye, the only daughter of Raphael the Russian, going on
sixteen, buxom, bright, capable, and well educated, could not escape
the eye of the shadchan. A fine thing it would be to let such a likely