must undehstand the 'Song of
Songs.'" (Hershel could not pronounce the letter R but said H.)

"Certainly," put in Shalom-Shachno, with a little laugh.

The teacher gave me a wink. I went over to the table, shook myself to
and fro for a minute, and began to chant the "Song of Songs" to a
beautiful melody, first introducing this commentary on it:--

"The 'Song of Songs'--a song above all songs! All other songs have been
sung by prophets, but this 'Song' has been sung by a prophet who was the
son of a prophet. All other songs have been sung by men of wisdom, but
this 'Song' has been sung by a man of wisdom who was the son of a man of
wisdom. All other songs have been sung by kings, but this 'Song' has
been sung by a king who was the son of a king."

Whilst I was singing, I glanced quickly at my audience. And on each face
I could see a different expression. On my father's face I could see
pride and pleasure. On my teacher's face were fear and anxiety, lest,
God forbid! I should make a mistake, or commit errors in reading. His
lips, in silence, repeated every word after me. Hershel the
Tax-collector sat with his head a little to one side, the ends of his
yellow beard in his mouth, one little eye closed, the other staring up
at the ceiling. He was listening with the air of a great, great judge.
"_Reb_" Shalom-Shachno the Matchmaker never took his eyes off Hershel
for a single minute. He sat with half his body leaning forward, shaking
himself to and fro, as I did. And he could not restrain himself from
interrupting me many times by an exclamation, a little laugh and a
cough, all in one breath, as he waved his double-jointed finger in the
air.

"When people say that he knows--then he knows!"

A few days after this, plates were broken, and in a fortunate hour, I
was betrothed to Hershel the Tax-collector's only daughter, Plesteril.

* * *

It sometimes happens that a man grows in one day more than anybody else
grows in ten years. When I was betrothed, I, all at once, began to feel
that I was a "grown-up." Surely I was the same as before, and yet I was
not the same. From my smallest comrade to my teacher "_Reb_" Zorach,
everybody now began to look upon me with more respect. After all, I was
a bridegroom-elect, and had a watch. And my father also gave up shouting
at me. Of smacks there is no need to say anything. How could any one
take hold of a bridegroom-elect who had a gold watch, and smack his face
for him? It would b