The Röfeh assured us several times that father had nothing serious the matter with him. Worry of mind had gone to his liver, and this had swollen and pressed against the heart; nothing worse. He was to drink milk and not trouble any more, walk out into the street, talk with his friends, and find something to do; but father said his feet refused to carry him. Why, I only knew later. Early one summer morning I was awakened by the following conversation between my parents: "Did you knock yourself up in the woods?" asked my mother. "Looks like it," answered my father. "They were cutting down in twenty places at once. You see, the wood is the nobleman's, but the peasants have certain privileges;[12] they get the twigs that fall and lie about on the ground, and the wood of any tree that is struck by lightning. Well, when the trees are cut down they lose their privileges, and have to buy wood for building and for heating purposes. So, of course, they wanted to stop it and bring down a commissioner. But they set about it too late. Reb Zeinwill no sooner saw them scratching their heads than he gave orders to put on forty axes. It was a Gehenna! They were felling in perhaps twenty different places, and one had to be everywhere. Well, what could you expect? My feet swelled like toadstools." "Sinner that I am," sighed my mother. "And there was I fancying you had nothing to do." "Nothing at all," my father smiled sadly; "I was only on my feet from dawn to dark." "And three rubles a week wages," added my mother, angrily. "He consented to raise them; meanwhile, you know, the timber raft was sunk, and he told me he was a poor man." "And you believe it?" "It may be." "He is always saying that" (angrily), "and yet the fortune goes on increasing." "With God's help," sighed father. There was silence for a while. "Do you know what he is doing now?" asked father, who had scarcely left the house for a year. "What should he? He trades in flax and eggs; he has a public-house." "And she?" "Sick, poor thing." "A pity; she was a good woman." "A jewel. The only lady who was not allowed to put up a groschen's worth of preserves! _She_ would have paid me regularly, but she hadn't much to say in the matter." "I fancy she is his third wife," said my father. "She is," my mother agreed. "Well, Sarah, here we have a rich Jew, one who might live comfortably, and, lo and behold, he has no luck with his wives--we all have our troubles." "Such a young woman, too," said my mother; "not more than two or three and twenty." "There's no accounting for these things; he must be seventy, and he's solid as iron." "You don't say so." "And no spectacles." "And when he walks, he shakes the planks." "And here am I in bed." These last words gave me a pang. "God will help," mother consoled him. "Only she--she--," sighed my mother, and glanced toward my box, "she is growing taller and taller, do you see?" "Of course, I see!" "And a face--bright as the sun."