from the northern steppes, howled through the streets, and
dismal was the sound of the storm. In the houses of the Jews, however,
there was peace and comfort. The pious Hebrews, who had toiled
industriously during six days of the week to provide for the seventh,
had ceased from their labors, had cast aside their cares and sorrows,
and rejoiced in the presence of their God.

Around Rabbi Mendel's hospitable board there was assembled a goodly
company. The table was unusually attractive on this Sabbath eve and the
company uncommonly joyous, for it was the first family gathering since
the announcement of Kathinka's betrothal with the young student. There
was much surprise that this bright maiden should have bestowed her
affections upon the poorest of her suitors, but Kathinka gazed in happy
contentment at the man by her side, to whom in her heart she had erected
a holy altar of love.

The goblets with their sparkling contents, the snow-white linen and the
dainty dishes spoke a cheery welcome to the merry guests, and the
seven-armed lamp hanging from the ceiling and the silver candlesticks
upon the table threw their friendly glow over the scene. Happiness and
pleasure, contentment and gratitude, beamed in every countenance.

There were present Mendel's father and mother, old and venerable but
still active, Hirsch Bensef and his wife Miriam, Rabbi Winenki and his
wife and daughter, (Recha's mother had died some time before,) and
finally the happy Joseph Kierson with his delighted father and mother.

Their conversation was animated and cheerful. Out in the streets the
wind might blow and the snow descend; here there was naught but good
cheer and comfort. The storm served, however, to recall many a dark and
dreary day in the past, and, like soldiers sitting about a campfire, the
men related the chief incidents of their eventful lives. There was a
melancholy pleasure in recalling the trials they had experienced,
contrasted with which their present security was all the more
comforting.

Mordecai Winenki related with tears in his eyes how he saved his wife's
honor by a hasty flight from home, and how he arrived in Kief just in
time for the _Pesach_ festival. "Yes, it was a marvellous escape from
the soldiers; _Adonai_ be praised for it!" Old Kierson had a story of
privation and suffering to relate, events which carried his hearers back
to the days of Nicholas, the Iron Czar, and they smiled to think that
those days were gone,