"A sechser's worth of ointment for the baby, a few farthing dips--a Sabbath loaf I have--oh! meat--a pound and a half--let me see--and brandy for the Kiddush, and a few splinters." "Those I can get for you. There are sure to be some in the market." "And then I want," and she makes a calculation of all she needs for Sabbath, and it comes to this: that one can say the Kiddush quite well over a loaf, and that there are heaps of things one can do without. The two important ones are: the candles to say the blessing over and the salve for the child. And if only the children, God helping, are well, and the metal candle-sticks not in pawn, and supposing there is even a pudding, they spend a cheerful Sabbath. Hannah _is_ wonderful at puddings! She is always short of something, either meal or eggs or suet, and the end of it all is a sweet, succulent, altogether ravishing pudding--it melts away into the very limbs! "An angel's handiwork!" says Hannah, smiling delightedly. "An angel's is it?" Chaïm laughs. "You think you are a little angel, do you, because you put up with me and the children? Well, they worry you enough, goodness knows! And I'm a regular crosspatch, _I_ am, at times--and never a curse do I get--you're not like other women. And what a comfort I must be to you, too! I'm no good at Kiddush or Havdoleh either--I can't even sing the hymns properly!" "You're a good husband and a good father," persists Hannah. "I ask no better for myself or anyone else. God grant that we may grow old together, you and I!" And they gaze into each other's eyes so kindly and so affectionately as it were from the very heart. It looks for all the world as if they were newly married, and the party at table grows more and more festive. But directly after his nap, Chaïm repairs to the little synagogue to hear the Law--a teacher expounds Alshech[1] there to simple folk like himself. The faces still look sleepy. One is finishing his doze, another yawns loudly. But all of a sudden, when it comes to the right moment, when there is talk of the other world, of Gehenna, where the wicked are scourged with iron rods, of the lightsome Garden of Eden, where the just sit with golden crowns on their heads and study the Torah, then they come to life again! The mouths open, the cheeks flush, they listen breathlessly to be told what the next world will be like. Chaïm usually stands near the stove. His eyes are full of tears, he trembles all over, he is all there, in the other world! He suffers together with the wicked; he is immersed in the molten pitch, he is flung away into hell; he gathers chips and splinters in gloomy woods....