the old
clock, if only it should be possible.

"The weight is too light," repeated my father, and hung something
heavier onto it every time, first a frying-pan, then a copper jug,
afterwards a flat-iron, a bag of sand, a couple of tiles--and the clock
revived every time and went on, with difficulty and distress, but still
it went--till one night there was a misfortune.

It was on a Friday evening in winter. We had just eaten our Sabbath
supper, the delicious peppered fish with horseradish, the hot soup with
macaroni, the stewed plums, and said grace as was meet. The Sabbath
candles flickered, the maid was just handing round fresh, hot,
well-dried Polish nuts from off the top of the stove, when in came Aunt
Yente, a dark-favored little woman without teeth, whose husband had
deserted her, to become a follower of the Rebbe, quite a number of years
ago.

"Good Sabbath!" said Aunt Yente, "I knew you had some fresh Polish nuts.
The pity is that I've nothing to crack them with, may my husband live no
more years than I have teeth in my mouth! What did you think, Malkeh, of
the fish to-day? What a struggle there was over them at the market! I
asked him about his fish--Manasseh, the lazy--when up comes Soreh Peril,
the rich: Make haste, give it me, hand me over that little pike!--Why in
such a hurry? say I. God be with you, the river is not on fire, and
Manasseh is not going to take the fish back there, either. Take my word
for it, with these rich people money is cheap, and sense is dear. Turns
round on me and says: Paupers, she says, have no business here--a poor
man, she says, shouldn't hanker after good things. What do you think of
such a shrew? How long did she stand by her mother in the market selling
ribbons? She behaves just like Pessil Peise Avrohom's over her daughter,
the one she married to a great man in Schtrischtch, who took her just
as she was, without any dowry or anything--Jewish luck! They say she has
a bad time of it--no evil eye to her days--can't get on with his
children. Well, who would be a stepmother? Let them beware! Take
Chavvehle! What is there to find fault with in her? And you should see
the life her stepchildren lead her! One hears shouting day and night,
cursing, squabbling, and fighting."

The candles began to die down, the shadow climbed the wall, scrambled
higher and higher, the nuts crackled in our hands, there was talking and
telling stories and tales, just for the pleasure of it, one witho