which she found
very handsome, with her big golden earrings, a hat with flowers on it,
and a charming gown. As for religion, she knew still less about it than
her husband. She believed in God, and at the bottom of her heart she
was even very much afraid of Him, and she believed also in the devil,
fearing him even more than God. She also believed that a person who
did not see his shadow on a holiday night would die within a year, and
even that a person who moved a candle on the Sabbath table would
meet with a great misfortune. On the other hand, however, she did not
believe many similar things--calling them superstitions. Being a good
housekeeper, she acknowledged in the depths of her soul that it would
be better if the Jews ate the same meat as the Christians, both because
it would be a great deal cheaper, and because there would not be the
need in the household of having so many kitchen dishes, which every
orthodox household must have in order to keep the food properly
kosher. As for the woven stuffs containing a mixture of wool and flax,
Pani Hannah closed her eyes and ears to all interdictions, and used
them without hesitation, because they were pretty and cheap. When
she came to Szybow she was perfectly horrified. There was not one
sign of civilisation--no public garden no music, no fountain, not even
the shadow of beautiful women and handsome men chatting amiably,
no echo of the French language. Good Heavens! Pani Hannah betook
herself to bed, and buried herself in feather bolsters for two whole
days and nights, lamenting and screaming that she could not stand it,
that she would die and make orphans of her children. She did not die,
however. She left the bed, because it was necessary to unpack things,
to look after the household and dress the children prettily so that when
they went into the streets they should astonish by their beauty and fine
clothes that--as Pani Hannah expressed it, with a gesture of
contempt--"rabble." The children were dressed, went out, and in truth
they did astonish everyone. It was the first consolation which the
unhappy exile from civilisation received in her place of banishment.
Then came other similar consolations. Pani Hannah tried to amaze in
everything she was able--dresses, furniture, manners, speech--and in
doing so, she felt extremely happy. In the main, perhaps she was
happier than in a large city. There she only looked on civilisation
and its products and was proud of being one p
|