er to offer his hand or not. He feared to be thought
obtrusive, as he was not the object of the visit; and, again, he was
disposed to resent this want of attention as a slight, and dreaded lest
his dignity should be compromised by an advance on his part.

These mingled feelings--the fear of obtrusiveness and ill-will on the
one hand, and of excessive sensitiveness on the other--are the two
thieves between which Jew is crucified in the conventional intercourse
of European society, and must continue to be so until his social
position shall become firm and well defined.

Like all educated Jews of the older generation, the Jewish teacher was
conversant with the text of the Bible, and never forgot the maxims,
"Love the stranger, for ye were strangers also in the land of Egypt,"
and, "Offend not the stranger, for ye know his thoughts." He remembered
the pleasure he had himself derived, years before, from a smiling
welcome. Thus he stood, his lips moving silently, and the muscles of
his face twitching. At length he stepped up to the new-comer, extended
his hand, and expressed his pleasure in his arrival. The stranger said,
"You would certainly do me a great favor, gentlemen, by giving me some
advice in reference to my line of conduct. I know no one here."

"I can understand that very well," replied the Jewish teacher. "I also
came here for no other reason than that I was sent by the consistory,
and did not know a soul. I often longed for a charm to make myself
_incognito_ for a while, so as to study closely the character of the
parents; for, without the parents to help you, nothing is to be done
with the children. What made matters particularly difficult for me was
that it became my duty, twenty-five years ago, to organize a regular
school,--a matter till then entirely unknown among the Jews. At first
it seemed to me that I had been spirited into a strange world by
enchantment."

"Yes, you came into an enchantment soon enough, and married the
prettiest girl in the village: ha, ha! And so you ought," fell in the
old man. Turning to our friend, he continued,--"You must marry a girl
from our village, too."

The new teacher recoiled in such haste as to set his foot ruinously
into one of the immaculate flower-beds. After stammering out an
apology, he said, "I only refer to my relations with the parents and
the children."

"Be strict with them: that's the main point," said the old gentleman,
repairing the damage with the hoe.