re is time and to spare, and on
Sabbath Feigele's toilet knows no end.

The mother calls, "There, Feigele, that's enough! You will do very well
as you are." But what should old-fashioned women like her know about it?
Anything will do for them. Whether you've a hat and jacket on or not,
they're just as pleased.

But a young girl like Feigele knows the difference. _He_ is sitting out
there on the bench, he, Eleazar, with a party of his mates, casting
furtive glances, which he thinks nobody sees, and nudging his neighbor,
"Look, fire and flame!" and she, Feigele, behaves as though unaware of
his presence, walks straight past, as coolly and unconcernedly as you
please, and as though Eleazar might look and look his eyes out after
her, take his own life, hang himself, for all _she_ cares.

But, O Feigele, the vexation and the heartache when one fine day you
walk past, and he doesn't look at _you_, but at Malkeh, who has a new
hat and jacket that suit her about as well as a veil suits a dog--and
yet he looks at her, and you turn round again, and yet again, pretending
to look at something else (because it isn't proper), but you just glance
over your shoulder, and he is still looking after Malkeh, his whole face
shining with delight, and he nudges his mate, as to say, "Do you see?" O
Feigele, you need a heart of adamant, if it is not to burst in twain
with mortification!

However, no sooner has Malkeh disappeared down a sidewalk, than he gets
up from the bench, dragging his mate along with him, and they follow,
arm-in-arm, follow Feigele like her shadow, to the end of the avenue,
where, catching her eye, he nods a "Good Sabbath!" Feigele answers with
a supercilious tip-tilt of her head, as much as to say, "It is all the
same to me, I'm sure; I'll just go down this other avenue for a change,"
and, lo and behold, if she happens to look around, there is Eleazar,
too, and he follows, follows like a wearisome creditor.

And then, O Feigele, such a lovely, blissful feeling comes over you.
Don't look, take no notice of him, walk ahead stiffly and firmly, with
your head high, let him follow and look at you. And he looks, and he
follows, he would follow you to the world's end, into the howling
desert. Ha, ha, how lovely it feels!

But once, on a Sabbath evening, walking in the gardens with a girl
friend, and he following, Feigele turned aside down a dark path, and sat
down on a bench behind a bushy tree.

He came and sat down, to