ders what
this may mean, and sits down again to his book. Sitting there, he
remembers that it is going on for Purim. Has someone sent him a turkey
out of regard for his study of the Torah? What shall he do with the
turkey? Should anyone, he reflects, ask him to dinner, supposing it were
to be a poor man, he would send him the turkey on the eve of Purim, and
then he would satisfy himself with it also. He has not once tasted
fowl-meat since he lost his wife. Thinking thus, he smacked his lips,
and his mouth watered. He threw a glance at the turkey, and saw it
looking at him in a friendly way, as though it had quite understood his
intention, and was very glad to think it should have the honor of being
eaten by a Porush. He could not restrain himself, but was continually
lifting his eyes from his book to look at the turkey, till at last he
began to fancy the turkey was smiling at him. This startled him a
little, but all the same it made him happy to be smiled at by a living
creature.

The same thing happened at Minchah and Maariv. In the middle of the
Eighteen Benedictions, he could not for the life of him help looking
round every minute at the turkey, who continued to smile and smile.
Suddenly it seemed to him, he knew that smile well--the Almighty, who
had taken back his wife, had now sent him her smile to comfort him in
his loneliness, and he began to love the turkey. He thought how much
better it would be, if a _rich_ man were to invite him at Purim, so that
the turkey might live.

And he thought it in a propitious moment, as we shall presently see, but
meantime they brought him, as usual, a platter of groats with a piece of
bread, and he washed his hands, and prepared to eat.

No sooner, however, had he taken the bread into his hand, and was about
to bite into it, than the turkey moved out of its corner, and began
peck, peck, peck, towards the bread, by way of asking for some, and as
though to say it was hungry, too, and came and stood before him near the
table. The Porush thought, "He'd better have some, I don't want to be
unkind to him, to tease him," and he took the bread and the platter of
porridge, and set it down on the floor before the turkey, who pecked and
supped away to its heart's content.

Next day the Porush went over to the Rosh ha-Yeshiveh, and told him how
he had come to have a fellow-lodger; he used always to leave some
porridge over, and to-day he didn't seem to have had enough. The Rosh
ha-Yeshi