remained silent, observed:

"Why not send him into the world?"

Saul thought a long time, and then replied:

"Your advice is not good. I cannot punish him severely. What would my
father Hersh say to it, in whose footsteps he wishes to go, and whom
I am not at liberty to judge. I cannot marry him quickly, because the
child is not like other children--he is proud and sensitive, and does
not brook any fetters. Besides, he is so disgraced and openly rebuked
already that no wealthy or respectable Israelite will give him his
daughter in marriage."

Again Saul's voice shook. He had lived to see his grandson, the most
beloved of all his children, come down so low that no respectable
family would receive him as son-in-law.

"I cannot send him away either," he continued, "because I am afraid
that in the world he will lose all that is left of his father's
faith. I am in the position of the great and wise Rabbi of whom it is
written that he had a reckless son who ate pork in secret. People
advised him to send his son out into the world and expose him to
misery and a wandering life. But he replied: 'Let my son remain at
home. The sight of his father's troubled and sorrowful face may
soften his heart and lead him to a better life; stern misery would
change it into hard stone.'"

Saul became silent--all around were silent; nothing was heard but now
and then a sigh from the women.

The room became darker and darker.

After a while, in a subdued, almost timid, voice, Ber began:

"Allow me to open my heart before you to-day. I speak but seldom,
because as often as I want to speak the remembrance of my younger
years seems to rise before me and smother my voice; therefore it is
the voice least heard of all the voices in the family. I left off
speaking or advising, and looked only after my business and my
family. But I must speak now. Why trouble so much about Meir? Give
him his liberty; let him go into the world, and do not punish him
either by your anger or by dooming him to poverty. What wrong has he
done? He keeps all the commandments faithfully; has studied the holy
books; all the members of our family, and even the poor, ignorant
people love him like their own soul. What do you want from him? What
has he done? Why should you punish him?"

Ber's speech, delivered in a lazy, half-timid voice, made a deep
impression on all those present. His wife Sarah, evidently
frightened, pulled him by the sleeve and whispered:

"Hush,