the town was still in
the power of wild highwaymen, called there "Hydemakyes," with huge,
terrifying whiskers and large, savage dogs. One day, on Hoshanah Rabbah,
early in the morning, there entered the house-of-study a tall youth,
evidently village-born and from a long way off, barefoot, with turned-up
trousers, his boots slung on a big, knotted stick across his shoulders,
and a great bundle of big Hoshanos. The youth stood in the centre of the
house-of-study with his mouth open, bewildered, and the boys quickly
snatched his willow branches from him. He was surrounded, stared at,
questioned as to who he was, whence he came, what he wanted. Had he
parents? Was he married? For some time the youth stood silent, with
downcast eyes, then he bethought himself, and answered in three words:
"I want to study!"

And from that moment he remained in the old building, and people began
to tell wonderful tales of his power of perseverance--of how a tall,
barefoot youth, who came walking from a far distance, had by dint of
determination come to be reckoned among the great men in Israel; of how,
on a winter midnight, he would open the stove doors, and study by the
light of the glowing coals; of how he once forgot food and drink for
three days and three nights running, while he stood over a difficult
legal problem with wrinkled brows, his eyes piercing the page, his
fingers stiffening round the handle of his stick, and he motionless; and
when suddenly he found the solution, he gave a shout "Nu!" and came down
so hard on the desk with his stick that the whole house-of-study shook.
It happened just when the people were standing quite quiet, repeating
the Eighteen Benedictions.

Then it was told how this same lad became Rav in Mouravanke, how his
genius descended to his children and children's children, till late in
the generations, gathering in might with each generation in turn. They
rose, these giants, one after the other, persistent investigators of the
Law, with high, wrinkled foreheads, dark, bushy brows, a hard, cutting
glance, sharp as steel.

In those days Mouravanke was illuminated as with seven suns. The
houses-of-study were filled with students; voices, young and old, rang
out over the Gemorehs, sang, wept, and implored. Worried and
tired-looking fathers and uncles would come into the Shools with
blackened faces after the day's pitch-burning, between Afternoon and
Evening Prayer, range themselves in leisurely mood by the doo