years. He gets five and a half "_roubles_" a week. He is
waiting for a rise in wages. He says that if he gets his rise this year,
please God, he will buy a citron. But my mother, Basse-Beila, has no
faith in this. She says the barracks will fall down before father will
get a rise.

One day, shortly before the New Year, Leibel overheard the following
conversation between his father and his mother.

He: "Though the world turn upside down, I must have a citron this year!"

She: "The world will not turn upside down, and you will have no citron."

He: "That's what you say. But supposing I have already been promised
something towards a citron?"

She: "It will have to be written into the books of Jests. In the month
called after the town of Kreminitz a miracle happened--a bear died in
the forest. But what then? If I do not believe it, I shall not be a
great heretic either."

He: "You may believe or not. I tell you that this Feast of Tabernacles,
we shall have a citron of our own."

She: "Amen! May it be so! From your mouth into God's ears!"

"Amen, amen," repeated Leibel in his heart. And he pictured to himself
his father coming into the synagogue, like a respectable householder,
with his own citron and his own palm-branch. And though Moshe-Yankel is
only a clerk, still when the men walk around the Ark with their palms
and their citrons, he will follow them with his palm and citron. And
Leibel's heart was full of joy. When he came to "_Cheder_," he at once
told every one that this year his father would have his own palm and
citron. But no one believed him.

"What do you say to his father?" asked the young scamps of one another.
"Such a man--such a beggar amongst beggars desires to have a citron of
his own. He must imagine it is a lemon, or a '_groschen_' apple."

That was what the young scamps said. And they gave Leibel a few good
smacks and thumps, and punches and digs and pushes. And Leibel began to
believe that his father was a beggar amongst beggars. And a beggar must
have no desires. But how great was his surprise when he came home and
found "_Reb_" Henzel sitting at the table, in his Napoleonic cap, facing
his father. In front of them stood a box full of citrons, the beautiful
perfume of which reached the furthest corners of the house.

* * *

The cap which "_Reb_" Henzel wore was the sort of cap worn in the time
of Napoleon the First. Over there in France, these caps were long out of
fashion. But in our vi