had better not be seen?" Was I to go and
tell them I had a wife (may she live one hundred and twenty years!) with
this on the brain: Gymnasiye, Gymnasiye, and Gym-na-si-ye? I (much good
may it do you!) am, as you see me, no more unlucky than most people, and
with God's help I made my way, and got where I wanted, right up to the
nobleman, into his cabinet, yes! And sat down with him there to talk it
over. I thank Heaven, I can talk to any nobleman, I don't need to have
my tongue loosened for me. "What can I do for you?" he asks, and bids me
be seated. Say I, and whisper into his ear, "My lord," say I, "we," say
I, "are not rich people, but we have," say I, "a boy, and he wishes to
study, and I," say I, "wish it, too, but my wife wishes it very much!"
Says he to me again, "What is it you want?" Say I to him, and edge a bit
closer, "My dear lord," say I, "we," say I, "are not rich people, but we
have," say I, "a small fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say
I, "wishes to study; and I," say I, "also wish it, but my wife wishes it
_very much_!" and I squeeze that "very much" so that he may understand.
But he's a Gentile and slow-witted, and he doesn't twig, and this time
he asks angrily, "Then, whatever is it you want?!" I quietly put my hand
into my pocket and quietly take it out again, and I say quietly: "Pardon
me, we," say I, "are not rich people, but we have a little," say I,
"fortune, and one remarkably clever boy, who," say I, "wishes to study;
and I," say I, "wish it also, but my wife," say I, "wishes it very much
indeed!" and I take and press into his hand----and this time, yes! he
understood, and went and got a note-book, and asked my name and my son's
name, and which class I wanted him entered for.

"Oho, lies the wind that way?" think I to myself, and I give him to
understand that I am called Katz, Aaron Katz, and my son, Moisheh,
Moshke we call him, and I want to get him into the third class. Says he
to me, if I am Katz, and my son is Moisheh, Moshke we call him, and he
wants to get into class three, I am to bring him in January, and he will
certainly be passed. You hear and understand? Quite another thing!
Apparently the horse trots as we shoe him. The worst is having to wait.
But what is to be done? When they say, Wait! one waits. A Jew is used to
waiting.

January--a fresh commotion, a scampering to and fro. To-morrow there
will be a consultation. The director and the inspector and all the
teachers