as the snow."

Having said this he turned to Saul and said, pointing at Meir with
his brown finger:

"He don't know anything. He has forgotten everything I have taught
him!"

The old man slightly bent his wrinkled forehead before the melamed
and said in a conciliatory voice:

"Reb, forgive him! When wisdom shall come to him, then he will
recognise that his mouth has been very daring, and I am sure he will
be pious and scholarly, as were all the members of our family."

He drew himself up, and pride sparkled in the eyes which age had long
dimmed.

"Listen to me, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Our
family--the family of Ezofowich--is not a common family. We--thanks
to God, whose holy name be blessed--have great riches in chests and
on vessels. But we have still greater riches in the records of our
family. Our ancestor was a Senior, a superior over all the Jews
living in this country, and very much beloved by the king himself.
And my father Hersh, the famous Hersh, had the friendship of the
greatest lords, and they drove him in their carriages, and for his
surprising wisdom they took him to the king to the diet which was
then held in Warsaw."

The old man became silent and looked around with eyes brightened with
pride and triumph. The whole gathering looked on him as on a rainbow.
The melamed became gloomy, and slowly sipped the wine from a big
glass. The old great-grandmother, who was already slumbering,
awakened at once, and peered with her golden eyes from behind
half-closed lids, exclaiming in her soundless voice:

"Hersh! Hersh! my Hersh!"

After a while. Saul began to talk again:

"We have in our family a great treasure--such a treasure as has no
equal in all Israel. This treasure is a long document, written by our
ancestor Michael the Senior, and left by him, and in which there are
written noble and wise things. If we could get that document of
wisdom we should be happy. The only trouble is that we don't know
where it is."

From the time Saul began to talk of the document left by his
ancestor, among the many eyes looking at him two pairs sparkled
passionately, with, however, quite contradictory sentiments. They
were the eyes of the melamed, who laughed softly and maliciously, and
the eyes of Meir who drew himself up in his chair and looked into his
grandfather's face with burning curiosity.

"This writing," Saul said further, "was hidden for two hundred years
and nobody has touch