But Lebele will never put that question: the Rebbe is such a great and learned man, he must know best. Ai, how dare he, Lebele, disapprove? He is only a little boy. When he is grown up, he will doubtless curtain the window himself. But as things are now, Lebele is not happy, and feels sadly perplexed at the behavior of his elders. Late in the evening, he comes home from Cheder. The sun has already set, the street is cheerful and merry, the cockchafers whizz and, flying, hit him on the nose, the ear, the forehead. He would like to play about a bit in the street, let them have supper without him, but he is afraid of his father. His father is a kind man when he talks to strangers, he is so gentle, so considerate, so confidential. But to him, to Lebele, he is very unkind, always shouting at him, and if Lebele comes from Cheder a few minutes late, he will be angry. "Where have you been, my fine fellow? Have you business anywhere?" Now go and tell him that it is not at all so bad out in the street, that it's a pleasure to hear how the cockchafers whirr, that even the hits they give you on the wing are friendly, and mean, "Hallo, old fellow!" Of course it's a wild absurdity! It amuses him, because he is only a little boy, while his father is a great man, who trades in wood and corn, and who always knows the current prices--when a thing is dearer and when it is cheaper. His father can speak the Gentile language, and drive bargains, his father understands the Prussian weights. Is that a man to be thought lightly of? Go and tell him, if you dare, that it's delightful now out in the street. And Lebele hurries straight home. When he has reached it, his father asks him how many chapters he has mastered, and if he answers five, his father hums a tune without looking at him; but if he says only three, his father is angry, and asks: "How's that? Why so little, ha?" And Lebele is silent, and feels guilty before his father. After that his father makes him translate a Hebrew word. "Translate _Kimlunah_!" "_Kimlunah_ means 'like a passing the night,'" answers Lebele, terrified. His father is silent--a sign that he is satisfied--and they sit down to supper. Lebele's father keeps an eye on him the whole time, and instructs him how to eat. "Is that how you hold your spoon?" inquires the father, and Lebele holds the spoon lower, and the food sticks in his throat. After supper Lebele has to say grace aloud and in correct Hebrew, according to custom. If he mumbles a word, his father calls out: "What did I hear? what? once more, 'Wherewith Thou dost feed and sustain us.' Well, come, say it! Don't be in a hurry, it won't burn you!" And Lebele says it over again, although he _is_ in a great hurry, although he longs to run out into the street, and the words _do_ seem to burn him.