n my eyes I said:
"Elijah the Prophet, dear, kind, loving, darling Elijah, give me one
minute to think." He turned towards me his handsome, yellow, wrinkled
old face with its grizzled beard reaching to his knees, and looked at me
with his beautiful, kind, loving, faithful eyes, and he said to me with
a smile: "I will give you one minute to decide, my child--but, no more
than one minute."

* * *

I ask you. "What should I have decided to do in that one minute, so as
to save myself from going with the old man, and also to save myself from
falling asleep for ever? Well, who can guess?"

Getzel

"Sit down, and I will tell you a story about nuts."

"About nuts? About nuts?"

"About nuts."

"Now? War-time?"

"Just because it's war-time. Because your heart is heavy, I want to
distract your thoughts from the war. In any case, when you crack a nut,
you find a kernel."

* * *

His name was Getzel, but they called him Goyetzel. Whoever had God in
his heart made fun of Getzel, ridiculed him. He was considered a bit of
a fool. Amongst us schoolboys he was looked upon as a young man. He was
a clumsily built fellow, had extremely coarse hands, and thick lips. He
had a voice that seemed to come from an empty barrel. He wore wide
trousers and big top-boots, like a bear. His head was as big as a
kneading trough. This head of his, "_Reb_" Yankel used to say, was
stuffed with hay or feathers. The "_Rebbe_" frequently reminded Getzel
of his great size and awkwardness. "Goyetzel," "Coarse being,"
"Bullock's skin," and other such nicknames were bestowed on him by the
teacher. And he never seemed to care a rap about them. He hid in a
corner, puffed out his cheeks, and bleated like a calf. You must know
that Getzel was fond of eating. Food was dearer to him than anything
else. He was a mere stomach. The master called him a glutton, but Getzel
didn't care about that either. The minute he saw food, he thrust it into
his mouth, and chewed and chewed vigorously. He had sent to him, to the
"_Cheder_," the best of everything. This great clumsy fool was, along
with everything else, his wealthy mother's darling--her only child. And
she took the greatest care of him. Day and night, she stuffed him like a
goose, and was always wailing that her child ate nothing.

"He ought to have the evil eye averted from him," our teacher used to
say, behind Getzel's back, of course.

"To the devil with his mother," the teacher's wife used to a