beard. And
who's going to find time to see after them--chopping and sawing a whole
day through.

He sighs and walks on and on, now and then glancing up into the sky:
"Lord of the Universe, of whom are you making trial? Shmerel Woodcutter?
If you do mean to give me the treasure, _give_ it me!" It seems to him
that the flame proceeds more slowly, but at this very moment he hears a
dog bark, and it has a bark he knows--that is the dog in Vissoke.
Vissoke is the first village you come to on leaving the town, and he
sees white patches twinkle in the dewy morning atmosphere, those are the
Vissoke peasant cottages. Then it occurs to him that he has gone a
Sabbath day's journey, and he stops short.

"Yes, I have gone a Sabbath day's journey," he thinks, and says,
speaking into the air: "You won't lead me astray! It is _not_ a
God-send! God does not make sport of us--it is the work of a demon." And
he feels a little angry with the thing, and turns and hurries toward the
town, thinking: "I won't say anything about it at home, because, first,
they won't believe me, and if they do, they'll laugh at me. And what
have I done to be proud of? The Creator knows how it was, and that is
enough for me. Besides, _she_ might be angry, who can tell? The children
are certainly naked and barefoot, poor little things! Why should they be
made to transgress the command to honor one's father?"

No, he won't breathe a word. He won't even ever remind the Almighty of
it. If he really has been good, the Almighty will remember without being
told.

And suddenly he is conscious of a strange, lightsome, inward calm, and
there is a delicious sensation in his limbs. Money is, after all, dross,
riches may even lead a man from the right way, and he feels inclined to
thank God for not having brought him into temptation by granting him his
wish. He would like, if only--to sing a song! "Our Father, our King" is
one he remembers from his early years, but he feels ashamed before
himself, and breaks off. He tries to recollect one of the cantor's
melodies, a Sinai tune--when suddenly he sees that the identical little
flame which he left behind him is once more preceding him, and moving
slowly townward, townward, and the distance between them neither
increases nor diminishes, as though the flame were taking a walk, and he
were taking a walk, just taking a little walk in honor of Sabbath. He is
glad in his heart and watches it. The sky pales, the stars begin to go