night, and Bertzi's chest, throat, and nostrils co

l fire in the oven went out long ago, a

about the room, she wee

to rouse her husband with screams and cries fit to make

ou a Jew?-a man?-the father of children?-Bertzi, have you God in your heart? Bertzi, have you said your pra

somebody's water

his feet, and has revived without it. With her two hands, with all

ancy it's already beginning to dawn. The children, long life to them, went to sleep without

sleepy and red. He looks strangely wild and unkempt. Bertzi looks at Rochtzi, at the table, he looks round the room, and sees nothing. But now he looks at the bed: his little childre

Minchah and Maariv by the

ealth to you! Hershele, get up, my Kaddish, father has come home alr

kes it up in his left hand, places

f the Universe-" It grows dark before his eyes: "The first night of Passover-I ought to make Kiddush-Thou who dost create the fruit of the vine"-his feet fail him, as th