were
performing a service to humanity. As the grotesque train entered the
burial-ground the lamentations became louder at the sight of the scores
of newly-made graves. The bride and groom lost their happy look, for a
stern and terrible reality confronted them. The _chuppe_ had been
erected between two freshly-dug graves. The people ceased their wailing
and became as silent as the awful place in which they stood.

Mendel, who had been requested to tie the solemn knot, had refused to do
so and had absented himself. The ceremony was, therefore, performed by
the Rabbi of another congregation, who hurried through the short service
with almost eager haste. Jentele kissed the weeping bride, Itzig
embraced his son-in-law.

Suddenly the father tottered and with a moan fell to the ground. His
face became livid, his eyes sank in their sockets, his blue lips
frothed, and his whole body shook with agony.

"The cholera! the cholera!" shouted those nearest him, and while many
fled for their lives, a dozen willing hands lifted up the prostrate
beadle and endeavored by every means in their power to restore him to
consciousness. In vain were all their ministrations, in vain their
prayers and exhortations. For a short while Itzig suffered intense
agony, then his shrunken form became rigid, his head fell back, his
homely and shrivelled features relaxed into a hideous grin, and the
unfortunate beadle travelled the way of the hundreds he had in his time
borne to this very spot.[12]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 11: Wallace, p. 78.]

CHAPTER XVII.

COMMON-SENSE VS. SUPERSTITION.

In spite of the sacrifice, in spite of the fanaticism of the gentiles
and the equally great superstition of the Jews, the plague continued
with unabated violence. But few families in Kief had been spared a visit
from the dread reaper.

On the Sabbath following the events just narrated, the Israelites went
to their places of worship as usual, and ardent prayers for deliverance
ascended to the Almighty. Mendel, notwithstanding his youth, officiated
in the place of the departed Rabbi Jeiteles, and on this occasion he
formally entered upon the duties of his honorable office.

Sermons, as we understand them, were not in vogue among the Russian
Jews, and lectures in the synagogue on topics unconnected with religion
or morality had not been dreamed of. Jeiteles would at times discourse
upon some knotty point in the _Torah_, and on the more important
holidays