uff-box he toyed with was equally
of the color of grace. As I caught my first glimpse of his face, I
felt it was strangely familiar, but where or when I had seen it I
could not recall, and the thought of this haunted the back of my mind
throughout.

"Peace be to you," he said to each in turn. We breathed back
respectful response, and took our seats at the table. The same solemn
silence reigned during the meal, which was wound up by _Kuggol_
(Sabbath-pudding). By this time the room was full of new-comers, who
had gradually dropped in for the levee, and who swarmed about the
table, anxious for the merest crumb of the pudding. And great was the
bliss on the faces of those who succeeded in snatching a morsel, as
though it secured them Paradise.

When this unseemly scramble was over, the Saint--who, leaning his brow
on his hands, had appeared not to notice these proceedings--struck up
a solemn hymn-tune. Then he put his hands over his eyes, as if lost in
an ecstasy; after which he suddenly began to call out our names,
coupled with the places we came from, astonishing us all in turn. Each
guest, when thus cried, responded with a verse from the Scriptures.
When it came to my turn, I was so taken aback by the Saint's knowledge
of me that I could not think of a verse. But at last, blushing and
confused, I fell back upon my name-verse, which began with my initial
to help me to remember my name (for so I had been taught) when the
angel should demand it of me in my tomb. To my astonishment the Saint
then began to deliver a discourse upon all these texts, so ingeniously
dovetailed that one would have sworn no better texts could have been
selected. "Verily have they spoken the truth of this man's learning,"
I thought, with a glow. Nor did this marvellous oration fail to evince
that surprising knowledge of my past--even down to my dead wife--which
mine host had predicted. I left this wonder-worker's house exalted and
edified, though all I remember now of the discourse was the novel
interpretation of the passage in the Mishna: "Let the honor of thy
neighbor be as dear to thee as thine own."

"Thine own," said Baer, "means the honor thou doest to thyself; to
take pleasure in the which were ridiculous. As little pleasure should
the wise man take in his neighbor's honor--that is, in the honor which
his neighbor doeth him." This seemed rather inconsistent with his own
pomp, and I only appreciated the sentiment months later.

After thi