ings of years,
and the miserable hut which had for generations served as the family
homestead. For a brief period the couple lived carelessly and
contentedly; but, alas! the little store of wealth gradually decreased.
Itzig's fingers, unskilled in manual labor, could not add to it nor
prevent its melting away. He knew nothing but Law and Talmud and his
chances for advancement were meagre, indeed. After the last rouble had
been spent, Itzig sought refuge in the great synagogue, where as beadle
he executed any little duties for which the services of a pious man were
required--sat up with the sick, prayed for the dead, trimmed the lamps
and swept the floor of the House of Worship; in return for which he
thankfully accepted the gifts of the charitably inclined. His wife, when
she was not occupied with the care of her rapidly growing family,
cheerfully assisted in swelling the family fund by peddling vegetables
and fruit from door to door.

Oh, the misery of such an existence! Slowly and drearily day followed
day and time itself moved with leaden soles. There were many such
families, many such hovels in Kief; for although thrift and economy,
prudence and good management are pre-eminently Jewish qualities, yet
they are not infrequently absent and their place usurped by neglect with
its attendant misery.

In spite of privations, however, life still possessed a charm for Itzig
Maier. At times the wedding of a wealthy Jew, or the funeral of some
eminent man, demanded his services and for a week or more money would be
plentiful and happiness reign supreme.

Hirsch Bensef entered the hut and found Jentele, Maier's wife,
perspiring over the hearth which occupied one corner of the room. She
was preparing a meal of boiled potatoes. A sick child was tossing
restlessly in an improvised cradle, which in order to save room was
suspended from a hook in the smoke-begrimed ceiling. Several children
were squalling in the lane before the house.

"_Sholem alechem_," said the woman, as she saw the stranger stoop and
enter the door-way, and wiping her hands upon her greasy gown, she
offered Hirsch a chair.

"Where is your husband?" asked Hirsch, gasping for breath, for the heat
and the malodorous atmosphere were stifling.

"Where should he be but in the synagogue?" said Jentele, as she went to
rock the cradle, for the child had begun to cry and fret at the sight of
the stranger.

"Is the child sick?" asked Bensef, advancing to the cradl