meetings, and sought for means and money whereby they might entice the
wonderful cantor and secure him for themselves. There was great
excitement in the Shools. Fancy finding in a little, thin Jewish lad all
the rare and precious qualities that go to make a great cantor! The
trustees of all the Shools ran about day and night, and a fierce war
broke out among them.

The war raged five times twenty-four hours, till the Great Shool in
Kamenivke carried the day. Not one of the others could have dreamed of
offering him such a salary--three hundred rubles and everything found!

"God is my witness"--thus Ezrielk opened his heart, as he sat afterwards
with the company of Hostre Chassidim over a little glass of
brandy--"that I find it very hard to leave our Old Shool, where my
grandfather and great-grandfather used to pray. Believe me, brothers, I
would not do it, only they give me one hundred and fifty rubles
earnest-money, and I want to pass it on to my father and father-in-law,
so that they may rebuild their houses. To your health, brothers! Drink
to my remaining an honest Jew, and wish that my head may not be turned
by the honor done to me!"

And Ezrielk began to davven and to sing (again without a choir) in the
Great Shool, in the large town of Kamenivke. There he intoned the
prayers as he had never done before, and showed who Ezrielk was! The Old
Shool in Kabtzonivke had been like a little box for his voice.

In those days Ezrielk and his household lived in happiness and plenty,
and he and Channehle enjoyed the respect and consideration of all men.
When Ezrielk led the service, the Shool was filled to overflowing, and
not only with Jews, even the richest Gentiles (I beg to distinguish!)
came to hear him, and wondered how such a small and weakly creature as
Ezrielk, with his thin chest and throat, could bring out such wonderful
tunes and whole compositions of his own! Money fell upon the lucky
couple, through circumcisions, weddings, and so on, like snow. Only one
thing began, little by little, to disturb their happiness: Ezrielk took
to coughing, and then to spitting blood.

He used to complain that he often felt a kind of pain in his throat and
chest, but they did not consult a doctor.

"What, a doctor?" fumed Reb Yainkel. "Nonsense! It hurts, does it?
Where's the wonder? A carpenter, a smith, a tailor, a shoemaker works
with his hands, and his hands hurt. Cantors and teachers and
match-makers work with their thro