e of his exposition to speak of "death
by kissing" (by the Lord), and told how the righteous, the holy
Tzaddikim, die from the very sweetness of the Blessed One's kiss, a
spark kindled in Sholem's eyes, and he moved in his chair. One of those
wonders had taken place which do frequently occur, only they are seldom
remarked: the Chassidic exposition of the Torah had suggested to Sholem
a splendid idea for a romantic poem!

It is an old commonplace that men take in, of what they hear and see,
that which pleases them. Sholem is fascinated. He wishes to die anyhow,
so what could be more appropriate and to the purpose than that his love
should kiss him on his death-bed, while, in that very instant, his soul
departs?

The idea pleased him so immensely that immediately after grace, the
stranger having gone on his way, and the Rav laid himself down to sleep
in the other room, Sholem began to write. His heart beat violently while
he made ready, but the very act of writing out a poem after dinner on
Sabbath, in the room where his father settled the cases laid before him
by the townsfolk, was a bit of heroism well worth the risk. He took the
writing-materials out of his locked box, and, the pen and ink-pot in one
hand and a collection of manuscript verse in the other, he went on
tiptoe to the table.

He folded back the table-cover, laid down his writing apparatus, and
took another look around to make sure no one was in the room. He counted
on the fact that when the Rav awoke from his nap, he always coughed, and
that when he walked he shuffled so with his feet, and made so much noise
with his long slippers, that one could hear him two rooms off. In short,
there was no need to be anxious.

He grows calmer, reads the manuscript poems, and his face tells that he
is pleased. Now he wants to collect his thoughts for the new one, but
something or other hinders him. He unfastens the girdle, round his
waist, rolls it up, and throws it into the Rav's soft stuffed chair.

And now that there is nothing to disturb from without, a second and
third wonder must take place within: the Rav's Torah, which was
transformed by Sholem's brain into a theme for romance, must now descend
into his heart, thence to pour itself onto the paper, and pass, by this
means, into the heads of Sholem's friends, who read his poems with
enthusiasm, and have sinful dreams afterwards at night.

And he begins to imagine himself on his death-bed, sick and weak, unable