t_ Jew, for neither he nor his father
before him had ever been in Palestine, and he had got the sand in K.,
from the Andreiyeff Hills yonder, and that if I wished for it, _he_ had
_real_ Palestinian earth, from the Mount of Olives, with a document from
the Palestinian vicegerent, the Brisk Rebbetzin, to the effect that she
had given of this earth even to the eaters of swine's flesh, of whom it
is said, "for their worm shall not die," and they also were saved from
worms. My Palestinian Jew, after reading the letter, called down all bad
dreams upon the head of the Brisk Rebbetzin, and declared among other
things that she herself was a dreadful worm, who, etc. He assured me
that I ought not to send money to the Brisk Rebbetzin, "May Heaven
defend you! it will be thrown away, as it has been a hundred times
already!" and began once more to praise _his_ wares, his earth, saying
it was a marvel. I answered him that I wanted real earth of Palestine,
_earth_, not sand out of little bags.

"Earth, it _is_ earth!" he repeated, and became very angry. "What do you
mean by earth? Am I offering you mud? But that is the way with people
nowadays, when they want something Jewish, there is no pleasing them!
Only" (a thought struck him) "if you want another sort, perhaps from the
field of Machpelah, I can bring you some Palestinian earth that _is_
earth. Meantime give me something in advance, for, besides everything
else, I am a Palestinian Jew."

I pushed a coin into his hand, and he went away. Meanwhile the news had
spread, my intention to purchase earth of Palestine had been noised
abroad, and the little town echoed with my name. In the streets, lanes,
and market-place, the talk was all of me and of how "there is no putting
a final value on a Jewish soul: one thought he was one of _them_, and
now he wants to buy earth of Palestine!" Many of those who met me looked
at me askance, "The same and _not_ the same!" In the synagogue they gave
me the best turn at the Reading of the Law; Jews in shoes and socks
wished me "a good Sabbath" with great heartiness, and a friendly smile:
"Eh-eh-eh! We understand--you are a deep one--you are one of us after
all." In short, they surrounded me, and nearly carried me on their
shoulders, so that I really became something of a celebrity.

Yuedel, the "living orphan," worked the hardest. Yuedel is already a man
in years, but everyone calls him the "orphan" on account of what befell
him on a time. His histo