to hear.... Naturally I was angry,
and at once told my mother of it. My mother gave me two smacks and told
me to give up carrying "'_Purim_' presents" from one to the other. The
smacks pained, and the words "'_Purim_' presents" gnawed at my brain. I
could not understand why she said "'_Purim_' presents."

I used to rejoice when I saw Okhrim from the distance, in his high boots
and his thick, white, warm, woollen pellisse which he wore winter and
summer. When I saw him, I knew he was bringing us a sackful of garden
produce. And I flew into the kitchen to tell my mother the news that
Okhrim was coming.

* * *

I must confess that there was a sort of secret love between Okhrim and
myself--a sort of sympathy that could not be expressed in words. We
rarely spoke to one another. Firstly, because I did not understand his
language, that is to say, I understood his but he did not understand
mine. Secondly, I was shy. How could I talk to such a big Okhrim? I had
to ask my mother to be our interpreter.

"Mother, ask him why he does not bring me some grapes."

"Where is he going to get them? There are no grapes growing in a
vegetable garden."

"Why are there no grapes in a vegetable garden?"

"Because vine trees do not grow with vegetables."

"Why do vine trees not grow with vegetables?"

"Why--why--why? You are a fool," cried my mother, and gave me a smack in
the face.

"Mrs. Abraham, do not beat the child," said Okhrim, defending me.

That is the sort of Gentile Okhrim was. And it was in his hands I found
myself that day when I waged war against the vegetables.

This is what I believe took place: When Okhrim came up and saw his
garden in ruins, he could not at once understand what had happened. When
he saw me swinging my sword about me on all sides, he ought to have
realized I was a terrible being, an evil spirit, a demon, and crossed
himself several times. But when he saw that it was a Jewish boy who was
fighting so vigorously, and with a wooden sword, he took hold of me by
the ear with so much force that I collapsed, fell to the ground, and
screamed in a voice unlike my own:

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Who is pulling me by the ear?"

It was only after Okhrim had given me a few good thumps and several
resounding smacks that we encountered each other's eyes and recognized
one another. We were both so astonished that we were speechless.

"Mrs. Abraham's boy!" cried Okhrim, and he crossed himself. He began to
realize the ruin