In the Dark of Night.
As I was about to leave for dinner, the Rebi said, "Bring a tallow candle with you when you come back. The boys who begin to read Chumesh will to-day start studying in the evening. Every one of you will have to bring extra candles for the Cheder and you"—addressing me—"bring a lantern to light up your way back home."
I was going to study in the evening! Last year I was a small boy, and the boys of the upper grades said, "Hafin does not go to school in the evening." The assistant used to carry me home on his shoulder, and would say to my mother, "Hafin is too small to walk home alone through the mud." This word "small" was beginning to annoy me; but now I rejoiced to hear that I was big enough to learn Chumesh and to attend Cheder in the evening. Mother was always wanting me to grow up. She said to the Rebi once, "When will be the end of this? The years pass and still....." The Rebi apologized. "Hafin is a little boy, and it is too early to begin Chumesh with him." But now I was to "learn" Chumesh!
I returned to the Cheder with a lantern and a few candles. The mud was knee deep, the sky was cloudy, and the rain drizzled through the air, striking the faces of the people on the streets.
The men were going to the synagogue for Maariv. The women were off to the store to purchase kerosene oil. The air was thick with a mist, darkness was falling and I saw through the window of the Cheder, where I stood, shadows moving about in the mist. In the Cheder, darkness and silence reigned. The Rebi had gone to
Translated from the Hebrew of M. Z. Feuerburg.
pray and his wife had left to gossip with her neighbors. We larger boys were alone, for the assistant had also gone away to escort the smaller boys home. We huddled close together, and I—being practically a new boy in the class—was somewhat diffident about breaking into the circle. One boy was telling a story in a subdued and dismal voice.....
"And he awoke in the middle of the night, and saw that he was in the large synagogue; the Everlasting Light on the desk cast a faint glow over the place. Suddenly, the synagogue was lighted up, and a great noise was heard. The synagogue was filling with dead people! There they stood in white shrouds, swaying to and fro. One of them went up to the Holy Ark, took out a scroll, and called out, "Yaamod Cohen;" and a skeleton, wrapped in a Tallis, stepped forward and said the benediction and the other read before him in the Torah. "Yaamod Levi," and another skeleton came up. "Yaamod Schleshi," and finally the onlooker heard, "Yaamod Hachasan Zorach, Maftir," which was his name. But he stood motionless, and was afraid to move hand or foot. The invitation was repeated. He buried his face in his hands, but the voice continued its call "Yaamod....." Then he fainted away. Two skeletons approached him and carried him to the platform, and placed him before the Torah. "Say the benediction," the skeleton reader commanded. Half dead he read it, and as he finished the reading of the Haftorah and said the final benediction, the congregation responded with a solemn "Amen." And hardly was the prayer finished when the schammos came up to perform, as usual,