him under the chin.

The child looked at him, his eyes slowly filling with tears.

"Well! what does the school of Shamai say, and what the school of
Hillel?" began the melamed.

There was a long silence. The children of the first bench nudged his
elbow, and whispered:

"Speak out!"

"The school of Shamai," began Lejbele, in a trembling voice, says,
"bless the wine. . . ."

"The day--the day, and then the wine," whispered a few compassionate
voices from the first bench. But, at the same time, the melamed's
hand came into contact with the ear of one of the offenders, and his
yell reduced the others to silence.

Reb Moshe turned again to the child.

"Mischna the first. What says the school of Shamai?"

The answer came in a still more trembling, almost inaudible, voice:

"The school of Shamai says: 'Bless the wine'. The melamed's fist came
down upon the young Talmudist's shoulder, out of whose hands the
heavy book slipped and fell upon the floor.

"You bad, abominable boy," yelled the melamed, "you do not learn your
lessons, and you throw your book upon the floor. Did you not read
that the school of Shamai says, 'To bless first the day and then the
wine?'"

Here a loud and sarcastic voice from the window called out;

"Reb Moshe, that poor child has never seen wine in his life, and
suffers hunger and flogging every day; it is not easy for him to
remember whether to bless first the day and then the wine."

But Reb Moshe did not hear that speech, because both his hands were
busy belabouring the head and shoulders of his pupil, who, without
crying out, tried to avoid the blows by ducking on the floor.
Suddenly a pair of strong hands pushed the melamed aside, and he,
losing his footing, fell down, carrying with him the rickety table.

"Reb Moshe!" called out the same sarcastic and angry voice.

"Is this not an Israelitish child that you wreak your spite upon it?
Is it not a poor man's child and our brother?"

His face burning with indignation, he bent down, and raising the
child in his arms, turned towards the door.

"Reb Moshe, you drive all intelligence out of the children's heads,
kill all the feeling in their hearts; I heard them laughing when you
beat Lejbele."

Saying this, he disappeared with the child in his arms.

Only then did Reb Moshe awaken from the stupefaction into which the
sudden assault had plunged him, and disengaging his burly frame from
under the table, he shouted:

"Assassin! mu