cle--I do not know how they came to us--and these were told
over and over. Gutke knew the best story of all. She told the story of
Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp, and she told it well. It was her
story, and nobody else ever attempted it, though I, for one, soon had
it by heart. Gutke's version of the famous tale was unlike any I have
since read, but it was essentially the story of Aladdin, so that I was
able to identify it later when I found it in a book. Names, incidents,
and "local color" were slightly Hebraized, but the supernatural
wonders of treasure caves, jewelled gardens, genii, princesses, and
all, were not in the least marred or diminished. Gutke would spin the
story out for a long afternoon, and we all listened entranced, even at
the hundredth rehearsal. We had a few other fairy stories,--I later
identified them with stories of Grimm's or of Andersen's,--but for the
most part the tales we told were sombre and unimaginative; tales our
nurses used to tell to frighten us into good behavior.

Sometimes we spent a whole afternoon in dancing. We made our own
music, singing as we danced, or somebody blew on a comb with a bit of
paper over its teeth; and comb music is not to be despised when there
is no other sort. We knew the polka and the waltz, the mazurka, the
quadrille, and the lancers, and several fancy dances. We did not
hesitate to invent new steps or figures, and we never stopped till we
were out of breath. I was one of the most enthusiastic dancers. I
danced till I felt as if I could fly.

Sometimes we sat in a ring and sang all the songs we knew. None of us
were trained,--we had never seen a sheet of music--but some of us
could sing any tune that was ever heard in Polotzk, and the others
followed half a bar behind. I enjoyed these singing-bees. We had
Hebrew songs and Jewish and Russian; solemn songs, and jolly songs,
and songs unfit for children, but harmless enough on our innocent
lips. I enjoyed the play of moods in these songs--I liked to be
harrowed one minute and tickled the next. I threw all my heart into
the singing, which was only fair, as I had very little voice to throw
in.

Although I always joined the crowd when any fun was on foot, I think I
had the best times by myself. My sister was fond of housework, but
I--I was fond of idleness. While Fetchke pottered in the kitchen
beside the maid or trotted all about the house after my grandmother, I
wasted time in some window corner, or studied the