y with,
nobody to ask how and where, and in which book, and he advises me to go
to the Academy at Makove; he will give me a letter to Reb Chayyim, the
headmaster, and ask him to befriend me."

When Taube heard that her son was about to leave her, she experienced a
great shock, but the words, Dayan, Rosh-Yeshiveh, mekarev-sein, and
other high-sounding bits of Hebrew, which she did not understand,
overawed her, and she felt she must control herself. Besides, the words
held some comfort for her: Yitzchokel was holding counsel with her, with
her--his mother!

"Of course, if the Dayan says so," she answered piously.

"Yes," Yitzchokel continued, "there one can hear lectures with all the
commentaries; Reb Chayyim, the author of the book "Light of the Torah,"
is a well-known scholar, and there one has a chance of getting to be
something decent."

His words entirely reassured her, she felt a certain happiness and
exaltation, because he was her child, because she was the mother of such
a child, such a son, and because, were it not for her, Yitzchokel would
not be there at all. At the same time her heart pained her, and she grew
sad.

Presently she remembered her husband, and burst out crying:

"If only _he_ had lived, if only he could have had this consolation!"
she sobbed.

Yitzchokel minded his book.

That night Taube could not sleep, for at the thought of Yitzchokel's
departure the heart ached within her.

And she dreamt, as she lay in bed, that some great Rabbis with tall fur
caps and long earlocks came in and took her Yitzchokel away from her;
her Yitzchokel was wearing a fur cap and locks like theirs, and he held
a large book, and he went far away with the Rabbis, and she stood and
gazed after him, not knowing, should she rejoice or weep.

Next morning she woke late. Yitzchokel had already gone to his studies.
She hastened to dress the children, and hurried to the market-place. At
her stall she fell athinking, and fancied she was sitting beside her
son, who was a Rabbi in a large town; there he sits in shoes and socks,
a great fur cap on his head, and looks into a huge book. She sits at his
right hand knitting a sock, the door opens, and there appears Yente
carrying a dish, to ask a ritual question of Taube's son.

A customer disturbed her sweet dream.

After this Taube sat up whole nights at the table, by the light of the
smoky lamp, rearranging and mending Yitzchokel's shirts for the journey;
she recalled