teen hours, and have no
strength left for study. One must teach _them_, he thinks. The master is
not likely to object. Reb Shloimeh was the making of him, he it was who
protected him, introduced him into all the best families, and finally
set him on his feet.

Reb Shloimeh grows more and more lively, and is continually trying to
rise from his couch.

Once out of bed, he could hardly endure to stay in the room, and how
happy he felt, when, leaning on a stick, he stept out into the street!
He hurried in the direction of the bookbinder's.

He was convinced that people's feelings toward him had changed for the
better, that they would rejoice on seeing him.

How he looked forward to seeing a friendly smile on every face! He would
have counted himself the happiest of men, if he had been able to hope
that now everything was different, and would come right.

But he did not see the smile.

The town looked upon the apoplectic stroke as God's punishment--it was
obvious. "Aha!" they had cried on hearing of it, and everyone saw in it
another proof, and it also was "obvious"--of the fact that there is a
God in the world, and that people cannot do just what they like. The
great fanatics overflowed with eloquence, and saw in it an act of
Heavenly vengeance. "Serves him right! Serves him right!" they thought.
"Whose fault is it?" people replied, when some one reminded them that it
was very sad--such a man as he had been, "Who told him to do it? He has
himself to thank for his misfortunes."

The town had never ceased talking of him the whole time. Every one was
interested in knowing how he was, and what was the matter with him. And
when they heard that he was better, that he was getting well, they
really were pleased; they were sure that he would give up all his
foolish plans, and understand that God had punished him, and that he
would be again as before.

But it soon became known that he clung to his wickedness, and people
ceased to rejoice.

The Rabbi and his fanatical friends came to see him one day by way of
visiting the sick. Reb Shloimeh felt inclined to ask them if they had
come to stare at him as one visited by a miracle, but he refrained, and
surveyed them with indifference.

"Well, how are you, Reb Shloimeh?" they asked.

"Gentiles!" answered Reb Shloimeh, almost in spite of himself, and
smiled.

The Rabbi and the others became confused.

They sat a little while, couldn't think of anything to say, and got up
f