m the box, one by one. His mother,
Slatte, the hoarse one, suspecting something wrong, opened the box, and
found in it one of the straws tipped with gum. She beat her son Berrel.
And after the whipping she had prevailed on the teacher to give him, he
confessed that for a whole year--a round year, he had been extracting
the "_kopeks_," one by one, and that, every Sunday, he had bought
himself two little cakes, some locust beans, and--and so forth, and so
forth.

"Now, boys, pronounce judgment on him. You know how to do it. This is
not the first time. Let each give his verdict, and say what must be done
to a boy who steals '_kopeks_' from a charity-box, by means of a straw."

The teacher put his head to one side. He closed his eyes, and turned his
right ear to Hirschalle. Hirschalle answered at the top of his voice:

"A thief who steals '_kopeks_' from a charity-box should be flogged
until the blood spurts from him."

"Moshalle, what is to be done to a thief who steals '_kopeks_' from a
charity-box?"

"A thief," replied Moshalle, in a wailing voice, "a thief who steals
'_kopeks_' from a charity-box should be stretched out. Two boys should
be put on his head, two on his feet, and two should flog him with
pickled rods."

"Topalle Tutteratu, what is to be done to a thief who steals '_kopeks_'
from a charity-box?"

Kopalle Kuckaraku, a boy who could not pronounce the letters K and G,
wiped his face, and gave his verdict in a squeaking voice.

"A boy who steals 'topets' from the charity-bots should be punished lite
this. Every boy should do over to him, and shout into his face, three
times, thief, thief, thief."

The whole school laughed. The master put his thumb on his wind-pipe,
like a cantor, and called out to me, as if I were a bridegroom being
called up, at the synagogue, to read the portion of the Law for the
week:

"Tell me, now, my dear little boy, what would you say should be done to
a thief who steals '_kopeks_' from a charity-box."

I tried to reply, but my tongue would not obey me. I shivered as with
ague. Something was in my throat, choking me. A cold sweat broke out all
over my body. There was a whistling in my ears. I saw before me, not the
teacher, nor the naked Berrel the thief, nor my comrades. I saw before
me only knives--pocket-knives without an end, white, open knives that
had many blades. And there, beside the door, hung the moon. She looked
at me, and smiled, like a human being. My head was