I came home late that Sabbath evening. It was already after the
"_Havdalah_." My face was burning. And I found Ephraim Log-of-wood
sitting at the table. He was talking very rapidly, and was laughing with
his curious little laugh. When he saw me, he was silent. He started
drumming on the table with his short little fingers. Opposite him sat my
father. His face was death-like. He was pulling at his beard, tearing
out the hairs one by one. This was a sure sign that he was in a temper.
"Where have you come from?" my father asked of me and looked at
Ephraim.
"Where am I to come from?" said I.
"How do I know where you are to come from?" said he. "You tell me where
you have come from. You know better than I."
"From the House of Learning," said I.
"And where were you the whole day?" said he.
"Where could I be?" said I.
"How do I know?" said he. "You tell me. You know better than I."
"At the House of Learning," said I.
"What were you doing at the House of Learning?" said he.
"What should I be doing at the House of Learning?" said I.
"Do I know what you could be doing there?" said he.
"I was learning," said I.
"What were you learning?" said he.
"What should I learn?" said I.
"Do I know what you should learn?" said he.
"I was learning '_Gemarra_' were you learning?" said he.
"What '_Gemarra_' should I learn?" said I.
"Do I know what '_Gemarra_' you should learn?" said he.
"I learnt the '_Gemarra_', '_Shabos_'," said I.
At this Ephraim Log-of-wood burst out laughing in his rattling little
laugh. And it seemed that my father could bear no more. He jumped up
from his seat and delivered me two resounding fiery boxes on the ears.
Stars flew before my eyes. My mother heard my shouts from the other
room. She flew into us with a scream.
"Nahum! The Lord be with you! What are you doing? A young man--a
bridegroom-elect! Just before his wedding! Bethink yourself! If her
father gets to know of this--God forbid!"
* * *
My mother was right. The girl's father got to know the whole story.
Ephraim Log-of-wood went off himself and told it to him. And in this way
Ephraim had his revenge of Hershel the Tax-collector; for the two had
always been at the point of sticking knives into one another.
* * *
Next day I got back the marriage-contract and the presents which had
been given to the bride-elect. And I was no longer a bridegroom-elect.
This grieved my father so deeply that he fell into a very serious
illness. He was bedridden for a long time. He would not let me come near
him. He refused to look into my face. All my mother's tears and
arguments and explanations and her defence of me were of no use at all.
"The disgrace," said my father, "the disgrace of it is worse than
anything else."
"May it turn out to be a real, true sacrifice for us all," said my
mother to him. "The Lord will have to send us another bride-elect. What
can we do? Shall we take our own lives? Perhaps it is not his destiny to
marry this girl."
Amongst those who came to visit my father in his illness was Tchitchick
the bandmaster.
When my father saw him, he took off his little round cap, sat up in his
bed, stretched out his hand to him, looked straight into his eyes and
said:
"Oh, 'Mr. Sergeant!' 'Mr. Sergeant!'"
He could not utter another sound, because he was smothered by his tears
and his cough....
This was the first time in my life that I saw my father crying. His
tears gripped hold of my heart, and chilled me to the very soul.
I stood and looked out of the window, swallowing my tears in silence. At
that moment, I was heartily sorry for all the mischief I had done. I
cried within myself, from the very depths of my heart, beating my
breast: "I have sinned." And within myself, I vowed solemnly to myself
that I would never, never anger my father again, and never, never cause
him any pain.
No more fiddle!