king in all the desolate little
hamlets scattered along that route. Fifteen rubles' worth of goods was
a big bill to carry out of Polotzk. The stock consisted of cheap
pottery, tobacco, matches, boot grease, and axle grease. These he
bartered for country produce, including grains in small quantity,
bristles, rags, and bones. Money was seldom handled in these
transactions.

A rough enough life my grandfather led, on the road at all seasons, in
all weathers, knocking about at smoky little inns, glad sometimes of
the hospitality of some peasant's hut, where the pigs slept with the
family. He was doing well if he got home for the holidays with a
little white flour for a cake, and money enough to take his best coat
out of pawn. The best coat, and the candlesticks, too, would be
repawned promptly on the first workday; for it was not for the like of
Joseph of Yuchovitch to live with idle riches around him.

For the credit of Yuchovitch it must be recorded that my grandfather
never had to stay away from the synagogue for want of his one decent
coat to wear. His neighbor Isaac, the village money lender, never
refused to give up the pledged articles on a Sabbath eve, even if the
money due was not forthcoming. Many Sabbath coats besides my
grandfather's, and many candlesticks besides my grandmother's, passed
most of their existence under Isaac's roof, waiting to be redeemed.
But on the eve of Sabbath or holiday Isaac delivered them to their
respective owners, came they empty-handed or otherwise; and at the
expiration of the festival the grateful owners brought them promptly
back, for another season of retirement.

While my grandfather was on the road, my grandmother conducted her
humble household in a capable, housewifely way. Of her six children,
three died young, leaving two daughters and an only son, my father. My
grandmother fed and dressed her children the best she could, and
taught them to thank God for what they had not as well as for what
they had. Piety was about the only positive doctrine she attempted to
drill them in, leaving the rest of their education to life and the
rebbe.

Promptly when custom prescribed, Pinchus, the petted only son, was
sent to heder. My grandfather being on the road at the time, my
grandmother herself carried the boy in her arms, as was usual on the
first day. My father distinctly remembers that she wept on the way to
the heder; partly, I suppose, from joy at starting her son on a holy
lif