tal, social problems, all these words, now on
the lips of every boy and girl, were then all but unknown even in the
great world, let alone among us Jews, and let alone to Reb Nochumtzi,
the Pumpian Rav!

And yet Reb Nochumtzi had a certain amount of worldly wisdom of his own.

Reb Nochumtzi was a native of Pumpian, and had inherited his position
there from his father. He had been an only son, made much of by his
parents (hence the pet name Nochumtzi clinging to him even in his old
age), and never let out of their sight. When he had grown up, they
connected him by marriage with the tenant of an estate not far from the
town, but his father would not hear of his going there "auf Koest," as
the custom is. "I cannot be parted from my Nochumtzi even for a minute,"
explained the old Rav, "I cannot bear him out of my sight. Besides, we
study together." And, in point of fact, they did study together day and
night. It was evident that the Rav was determined his Nochumtzi should
become Rav in Pumpian after his death--and so he became.

He had been Rav some years in the little town, receiving the same five
Polish gulden a week salary as his father (on whom be peace!), and he
sat and studied and thought. He had nothing much to do in the way of
exercising authority: the town was very quiet, the people orderly, there
were no quarrels, and it was seldom that parties went "to law" with one
another before the Rav; still less often was there a ritual question to
settle: the folk were poor, there was no meat cooked in a Jewish house
from one Friday to another, when one must have a bit of meat in honor of
Sabbath. Fish was a rarity, and in summer time people often had a "milky
Sabbath," as well as a milky week. How should there be "questions"? So
he sat and studied and thought, and he was very fond indeed of thinking
about the world!

It is true that he sat all day in his room, that he had never in all his
life been so much as "four ells" outside the town, that it had never so
much as occurred to him to drive about a little in any direction, for,
after all, whither should he drive? And why drive anywhither? And yet he
knew the world, like any other learned man, a disciple of the wise.
Everything is in the Torah, and out of the Torah, out of the Gemoreh,
and out of all the other sacred books, Reb Nochumtzi had learned to
know the world also. He knew that "Reuben's ox gores Simeon's cow," that
"a spark from a smith's hammer can burn a wago