the coming time will be a very happy
one: all will be happy--all! Only work honestly, and learn! Learn,
children! Everything will be all right! All will be hap----"

A sweet smile appeared on his lips, and Reb Shloimeh died.

In the town they--but what else _could_ they say in the town of a man
who had died without repeating the Confession, without a tremor at his
heart, without any sign of repentance? What else _could_ they say of a
man who spent his last minutes in telling people to learn, to educate
themselves? What else _could_ they say of a man who left his whole
capital to be devoted to educational purposes and schools?

What was to be expected of them, when his own family declared in court
that their father was not responsible when he made his last will?

* * * * *

Forgive them, Reb Shloimeh, for they mean well--they know not what they
say and do.

S. LIBIN

Pen name of Israel Hurewitz; born, 1872, in Gori-Gorki, Government of
Mohileff (Lithuania), White Russia; assistant to a druggist at thirteen;
went to London at twenty, and, after seven months there, to New York
(1893); worked as capmaker; first sketch, "A Sifz vun a Arbeiterbrust";
contributor to Die Arbeiterzeitung, Das Abendblatt, Die Zukunft,
Vorwaerts, etc.; prolific Yiddish playwright and writer of sketches on
New York Jewish life; dramas to the number of twenty-six produced on the
stage; collected works, Geklibene Skizzen, 1 vol., New York, 1902, and 2
vols., New York, 1907.

A PICNIC

Ask Shmuel, the capmaker, just for a joke, if he would like to come for
a picnic! He'll fly out at you as if you had invited him to a swing on
the gallows. The fact is, he and his Sarah once _went_ for a picnic, and
the poor man will remember it all his days.

It was on a Sabbath towards the end of August. Shmuel came home from
work, and said to his wife:

"Sarah, dear!"

"Well, husband?" was her reply.

"I want to have a treat," said Shmuel, as though alarmed at the boldness
of the idea.

"What sort of a treat? Shall you go to the swimming-bath to-morrow?"

"Ett! What's the fun of that?"

"Then, what have you thought of by way of an exception? A glass of ice
water for supper?"

"Not that, either."

"A whole siphon?"

Shmuel denied with a shake of the head.

"Whatever can it be!" wondered Sarah. "Are you going to fetch a pint of
beer?"

"What should I want with beer?"

"Are you going to sleep