sked him to
talk like a man. Pethachiah did not stir. He looked at the ceiling. And
his pale face shone. We went off, and returned once again.

"A curious Jew, Pethachiah," said my mother to me afterwards. "May my
enemies have the plague if I would have bought the prayer-book from him.
It is at a famine price. As I live, it is a sin. The money could have
gone for your school-fees. But it's useless. For the sake of tomorrow,
the anniversary of your father's death--peace be unto him!--I have
bought you the prayer-book, as a favour. And now, my son, you must do
me a favour in return. Promise me that you will say your prayers
faithfully every day."

Whether I really prayed as faithfully as I had promised, or not, I will
not tell you. But I loved the little book as my life. You may understand
that I slept with it, though, as you know, it is forbidden. The whole
"_Cheder_" envied me the little book. I minded it as if it were the
apple of my eye. And now, this "_Chanukah_"--woe unto me!--I carried it
off with my own hands to Moshe the carpenter's boy, who had long had his
eye on it. And I had to beg of him, for an hour on end, before he bought
it. I almost gave it away for nothing--the little prayer-book. My heart
faints and my face burns with shame. Sold! And to what end? For whose
sake? For Benny's sake, that he might win off me another few "_kopeks_."
But how is Benny to blame if he wins at play?

"That's what a spinning-top is for," explained Benny, putting into his
purse my last few "_groschens_." "If things went with you as they are
going with me, then you would be winning. But I am lucky, and I win."

And Benny's cheeks glowed. It is bright and warm in the house. A silver
"_Chanukah_" lamp is burning the best oil. Everything is fine. From the
kitchen comes a delicious odour of freshly melted goose-fat.

"We are having fritters tonight," Benny told me in the doorway. My heart
was weak with hunger. I flew home in my torn sheep-skin. My mother had
come in from her shop. Her hands were red and swollen with the cold. She
was frozen through and through, and was warming herself at the stove.
Seeing me, her face lit up with pleasure.

"From the synagogue?" she asked.

"From the synagogue," was my lying answer.

"Have you said the evening prayer?"

"I have said the evening prayer," was my second lie to her.

"Warm yourself, my son. You will say the blessing over the '_Chanukah_'
lights. It is the last night of '_Chanu