hel the
Tax-collector had with me. And for what reason was I to tell him I had
been suffering from the ague?... It was only a few weeks later that this
riddle was solved for me.

* * *

Hershel the Tax-collector was so called because he, and his grandfather
before him, had collected the taxes of the town. It was the privilege of
their family. He was a young man with a round little belly, and a red
little beard, and moist little eyes, and he had a broad white forehead,
a sure sign that he was a man of brains. And he had the reputation in
our town of being a fine, young man, a modern, and a scholar. He had a
sound knowledge of the Bible, and was a writer of distinction. That is
to say, he had a beautiful hand. They say that his manuscripts were
carried around and shown in the whole world. And along with these
qualities, he had money, and he had one little daughter--an only child,
a girl with red hair and moist eyes. She and her father, Hershel the
Tax-collector, were as like as two drops of water. Her name was Esther,
but she was called by the nickname of "Plesteril." She was nervous and
genteel. She was as frightened of us, schoolboys, as of the Angel of
Death, because we used to torment her. We used to tease her and sing
little songs about her:

"Estheril."

"Plesteril!"

"Why have you no little sister?"

Well, after all, what is there in these words? Nothing, of course.
Nevertheless, whenever "Plesteril" heard them, she used to cover up her
ears, run home crying, and hide herself away in the farthest of far
corners. And, for several days, she was afraid to go out in the street.

But that was once on a time, when she was still a child. Now she is a
young woman, and is counted amongst the grown-ups. Her hair was tied up
in a red plait, and she was dressed like a bride, in the latest
fashions. My mother had a high opinion of her. She could never praise
her enough, and called her "a quiet dove." Sometimes, on the Sabbath
Esther came into our house, to see my sister Pessel. And when she saw
me, she grew redder than ever, and dropped her eyes. At the same time,
my sister Pessel would call me over to ask me something, and also to
look into my eyes as she looked into Esther's.

And it came to pass that, on a certain day, there came into my school my
father and Hershel the Tax-collector. And after them came Shalom-Shachno
the Matchmaker--a Jew who had six fingers, and a curly black beard, and
who was terribly poor. S