"Why have you done this to me?" It was only then that I realized the mischief I had done, and whom I had done it to. I was so amazed at myself that I could only repeat: "Why? Why?" "Come," said Okhrim, and took me by the hand. I was bowed to the earth with fear. I imagined he was going to make an end of me. But Okhrim did not touch me. He only held me so tightly by the hand that my eyes began to bulge from my head. He brought me home to my mother, told her everything, and left me entirely in her hands. * * * Need I tell you what I got from my mother? Need I describe for you her anger, and her fright, and how she wrung her hands when Okhrim told her in detail all that had taken place in his garden, and of all the damage I had done to his vegetables? Okhrim took his stick and showed my mother how I had destroyed everything on all sides, how I had smashed and broken, and trampled down everything with my feet, pulled the little potatoes out of the ground, and torn the tops off the little onions and the garlic that were just showing above the earth. "And why? And wherefore? Why, Mrs. Abraham--why?" Okhrim could say no more. The sobs stuck in his throat and choked him. I must tell you the real truth, children. I would rather Okhrim with the strong arms had beaten me, than have got what I did from my mother, before "_Shevuous_," and what the teacher gave me after "_Shevuous_." ... And the shame of it all. I was reminded of it all the year round by the boys at "_Cheder_." They gave me a nickname--"The Gardener." I was Yossel "the gardener." This nickname stuck to me almost until the day I was married. That is how I went to gather greens for "_Shevuous_." Another Page from "The Song of Songs" "Quicker, Busie, quicker!" I said to her the day before the "_Shevuous_." I took her by the hand, and we went quickly up the hill. "The day will not stand still, little fool. And we have to climb such a high hill. After the hill we have another stream. Over the stream there are some boards--a little bridge. The stream flows, the frogs croak, and the boards shake and tremble. On the other side of the bridge, over there is the real Garden of Eden--over there begins my real property." "Your property?" "I mean the Levada--a big field that stretches away and away, without a beginning and without an end. It is covered with a green mantle, sprinkled with yellow flowers, and nailed down with little red nails. It gives out a delicious odour. The most fragrant spices in the world are there. I have trees there beyond the counting, tall many-branched trees. I have a little hill there that I sit on when I like. Or else, by pronouncing the Holy Name, I can rise up and fly away like an eagle, across the clouds, over fields and woods, over seas and deserts until I come to the other side of the mountain of darkness." "And from there," puts in Busie, "you walk seven miles until you come to a little stream."