I
saw him jump down and put his shoulder to the wheel; but he had not
made fifty paces when his horse slipped and fell. I hastened up to
help him extricate the animal; and before we had succeeded in setting
the horse on his four feet again, the driver's cheeriness under
difficulties had made me feel quite friendly towards him.

"Satan is evidently bent upon disturbing my Passover," Said he, "for
this is the second time that I have tried to get my Passover flour
home. My good wife told me that we had nothing to eat for the
festival, so I felt I must give myself a counsel. Out I went with my
slaughtering-knife into the villages on the north--no, don't be
alarmed, not to kill the inhabitants, but to slaughter their Passover
poultry."

"You are a _Shochet_ (licensed killer)," said I.

"Yes," said he; "among other things. It would be an intolerable
profession," he added reflectively, "were it not for the thought that
since the poor birds have to be killed, they are better off in my
hands. However, as I was saying, I killed enough poultry to buy
Passover flour; but before I got it home the devil sent such a deluge
that it was all spoilt. I took my knife again and went out into the
southern villages, and now, here am I in another quandary. I only hope
I sha'nt have to kill my horse too."

"No, I don't think he is damaged," said I, as the event proved.

When I had helped this good-natured little man and his horse to the
top of the hill, he invited me to jump into the cart if my way lay in
his direction.

"I am in search of the Baal Shem," I explained.

"Indeed," said he; "he is easily to be found."

"What, do you know the Baal Shem?" I cried excitedly.

He seemed amused at my agitation. His black eyes twinkled. "Why,
everybody in these parts knows the Baal Shem," said he.

"How shall I find him, then?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You have but to step up into my cart."

"May your strength increase!" I cried gratefully; "you are going in
his direction?"

He nodded his head.

I climbed up the wheel and plumped myself down between two
flour-sacks. "Is it far?" I asked.

He smiled. "Nay, if it was far I should scarcely have asked you up."

Then we both fell silent. For my part, despite the jolting of the
vehicle, the lift was grateful to my spent limbs, and the blue sky and
the rustling leaves and the near prospect of at last seeing the Baal
Shem contributed to lull me into a pleasant languor. But my