eaming in through the
window, on one side; on the other by the lurid and fitful flames in
the fire-place. Near the latter crouched the melamed, feeding the
fire with fresh fuel and putting various herbs into steaming vessels.

Besides the function of apothecary he had also the office of crier.
He called out the names of the people who, according to his opinion,
were entitled to appear before the master.

He now raised his thick forefinger towards the entrance, and called
out:

"Shimshel, the innkeeper."

The summoned man whose name, Samson, time and custom had transformed
into Shimshel, did not in the least resemble his namesake, the Samson
of history. He was slender and red-haired, and bent almost to the
ground before the Rabbi.

"Who greets the Wise Man bows before the greatness of the Creator,"
he said in a timid, shaking voice. It was not only his voice which
trembled, but all his limbs, and his blue eyes roamed wildly about
the room.

Isaak Todros sat like a statue. His eyes looked piercingly at
the little red-haired man before him, who, in his terror, had lost his
tongue altogether.

"Well?" said the sage, after a lengthy pause.

Shimshel raised his shoulders almost to his ears and began:

"Nassi! let a ray of your wisdom enlighten my darkness. I have
committed a great sin, and my soul trembles while I am confessing it
before you. Nassi! I am a most unfortunate man; my wife Ryfka has
lost my soul for ever, unless you, oh Rabbi, tell me how to make it
clean again."

Here the poor penitent choked again, but gathering courage,
proceeded:

"Nassi! I and my wife Ryfka and the children sat down, last Friday,
to the Sabbath feast. On one table there was a dish of meat, on the
other a bowl of milk which my wife had boiled for the younger
children. My wife ladled out the milk for the children, when her hand
shook and a drop of milk fell upon the meat."

"Ai! Ai! stupid woman, what had she done! She had made the meat
unclean."

"Well, and what did you do with the meat?" The questioned man's head
sank upon his breast, and he stammered:

"Rabbi, I ate from it, and so did my wife and children."

The Rabbi's eyes flashed with anger.

"Why did you not throw the unclean food on the refuse heap? Why did
you make your mouth and the mouths of your family unclean?" shouted
the Rabbi.

Shimshel choked again, and stopped. The sage, still motionless,
asked:

"Nassi! I am very poor, and keep a small inn that br