And she dreamt, as she lay in bed, that some great Rabbis with tall fur caps and long earlocks came in and took her Yitzchokel away from her; her Yitzchokel was wearing a fur cap and locks like theirs, and he held a large book, and he went far away with the Rabbis, and she stood and gazed after him, not knowing, should she rejoice or weep. Next morning she woke late. Yitzchokel had already gone to his studies. She hastened to dress the children, and hurried to the market-place. At her stall she fell athinking, and fancied she was sitting beside her son, who was a Rabbi in a large town; there he sits in shoes and socks, a great fur cap on his head, and looks into a huge book. She sits at his right hand knitting a sock, the door opens, and there appears Yente carrying a dish, to ask a ritual question of Taube's son. A customer disturbed her sweet dream. After this Taube sat up whole nights at the table, by the light of the smoky lamp, rearranging and mending Yitzchokel's shirts for the journey; she recalled with every stitch that she was sewing for Yitzchokel, who was going to the Academy, to sit and study, and who, every Friday, would put on a shirt prepared for him by his mother. Yitzchokel sat as always on the other side of the table, gazing into a book. The mother would have liked to speak to him, but she did not know what to say. Taube and Yitzchokel were up before daylight. Yitzchokel kissed his little brothers in their sleep, and said to his sleeping little sisters, "Remain in health"; one sister woke and began to cry, saying she wanted to go with him. The mother embraced and quieted her softly, then she and Yitzchokel left the room, carrying his box between them. The street was still fast asleep, the shops were still closed, behind the church belfry the morning star shone coldly forth onto the cold morning dew on the roofs, and there was silence over all, except in the market-place, where there stood a peasant's cart laden with fruit. It was surrounded by women, and Yente's voice was heard from afar: "Five gulden and ten groschen,' and I'll take the lot!" And Taube, carrying Yitzchokel's box behind him, walked thus through the market-place, and, catching sight of Yente, she looked at her with pride. They came out behind the town, onto the highroad, and waited for an "opportunity" to come by on its way to Lentschitz, whence Yitzchokel was to proceed to Kutno. The sky was grey and cold, and mingled in the distance with the dingy mist rising from the fields, and the road, silent and deserted, ran away out of sight. They sat down beside the barrier, and waited for the "opportunity." The mother scraped together a few twenty-kopek-pieces out of her pocket, and put them into his bosom, twisted up in his shirt. Presently a cart came by, crowded with passengers. She secured a seat for Yitzchokel for forty groschen, and hoisted the box into the cart. "Go in health! Don't forget your mother!" she cried in tears.