ing at last,' I cried, now accustomed
to his methods of expression. 'I hope you slept well.'

'We could not sleep for blessing you,' he replied unexpectedly. 'As
the Psalmist says, "All my bones praise the Lord!"'

Not that the matter had gone smoothly even now. The Kazelia gang at
Rotterdam denied all knowledge of the luggage, sent the girl to the
railway, where the dues had now mounted to L10 6s. Again the cup was
dashed from her lips, for I had only given her L9. But she went to the
Rabbi, and offered if he supplied the balance to repledge the Sabbath
silver candlesticks that were the one family heirloom in the bundle,
and therewith repay him instantly. While she was pleading with him, in
came a noble Jew, paid the balance, lodged her and fed her, and saw
her safely on board with the long-lost treasures.

CHAPTER IV

I BECOME A SORTER

As the weeks went by, my satisfaction with the progress I was making
was largely tempered by the knowledge that after the completion of my
picture my model would be thrown again on the pavement, and several
times I fancied I detected him gazing at it sadly as if watching its
advancing stages with a sort of hopeless fear. My anxiety about him
and his family grew from day to day, but I could not see any possible
way of helping him. He was touchingly faithful, anxious to please, and
uncomplaining either of cold or hunger. Once I gave him a few
shillings to purchase a second-hand pair of top-boots, which were
necessary for the picture, and these he was able to procure in the
Ghetto Sunday market for a minute sum, and he conscientiously returned
me the balance--about two-thirds.

I happened to have sold an English landscape to Sir Asher Aaronsberg,
the famous philanthropist and picture-buyer of Middleton, then up in
town in connection with his Parliamentary duties, and knowing how
indefatigably he was in touch with the London Jewish charities, I
inquired whether some committee could not do anything to assist
Quarriar. Sir Asher was not very encouraging. The man knew no trade.
However, if he would make application on the form enclosed and answer
the questions, he would see what could be done. I saw that the details
were duly filled in--the ages and sex of his five children, etc.

But the committee came to the conclusion that the only thing they
could do was to repatriate the man. 'Return to Russia!' cried Israel
in horror.

Occasionally I inquired if any plan for the future