It occurred to me to make a last effort. I remembered that the rabbi of Tishewitz had once been our Dayan, and would remember me, or at least witness to the fact that I was not what they took me for. "Where does the rabbi live?" I inquire of the Maskil. He is pleased and says: "Come, I will show you!" THE RABBI OF TISHEWITZ No one who has not seen the rabbi of Tishewitz's dressing-gown would ever know the reason why the rebbitzin, his third wife, though hardly middle-aged, already wears a large pair of spectacles on her nose. The dressing-gown looks as if it were simply _made_ of patches. "If only," complains the rabbi, "the town would give me another two gulden a week, I could get along. _Asö is gor bitter!_ But I shall get my way. Their law-suits they can decide without me; when it is a question of pots and pans, any school-teacher will do; questions regarding women, of course, cannot be put off; and yet I shall get my way, I'm only waiting for the election of the elders; they can't have an election without a rabbi. Imagine a town--no evil eye!--a metropolis in Israel, without elders! And if that won't do it, I shall refuse to try the slaughtering-knives--I've got them fast enough!" It was no easy matter to divert the rabbi's thoughts from his own grievances, but on the Maskil's promising to do his utmost to induce the community to raise his salary, he begged us to be seated, and listened to our tale. "Nonsense!" he said, "I know you! Tell the fools I know you." "They run away from me!" "_Ett!_[72] They run away! Why should they run away? Who runs away? After what? Well, as you say they run away, I will go out with you myself." "In what will you go?" calls out a woman's voice from behind the stove. "Give me my cloak," answers the rabbi. "Give you your cloak! I've this minute taken it apart." "Well," says the rabbi, "the misfortune is happily not great. We will go to-morrow." I give him to understand that it is only noon, that I should be sorry to waste the day. "_Nu_, what shall I do?" answers the rabbi, and folds his hands. "The rebbitzin has just started mending my cloak." "Call them in here!" "Call them? It's easy enough to call them, but who will come? Are they likely to listen to me? Perhaps I had better go in my dressing-gown?" "It wouldn't do, rabbi!" exclaimed the Maskil, 'the inspector is going about in the Gass. "For my part," said the rabbi, "I would have gone, but if you say no--no!" It is settled that we shall all three call the people together from the window. But opening the window is no such easy matter. It hasn't been opened for about fifteen years. The panes are cracked with the sun, the putty dried up, the window shakes at every step on the floor. The frame is worm-eaten, and only rust keeps it fastened to the wall. It is just a chance if there are hinges. And yet we succeeded. We opened first one side and then the other without doing any damage.