The Maccabaean

Joey was introduced to the study of Hebrew when he was five years old, too young, it may be presumed, to appreciate its historic and literary value.

His first teacher was Cousin Labl, who, inspired by a feeling of superiority, taught him his Hebrew letters. It was Joey's first attempt at memorizing, but soon he could translate, also from memory, the first chapter of the Book of Genesis. He translated the Hebrew, however, into Yiddish, for he had mechanically acquired Yiddish and did not know the English equivalents of the Hebrew words. The result was that this feat of memory was of no practical value. He did not understand what he read, and Labl's method of translation was also of the dubious sort. He translated "thohu" as "wüst" and "vovohu" as "leer," but, as both meant about the same thing, as he, subsequently discovered, he was never able to tell what the sentence meant, ror could Labl enlighten him.

It was from a little shoemaker who had taken up teaching as a bye-industry that Joey was initiated into the Cheder system, and the first thing he learned was that God rewarded the good little boy who learned well. The miracle happened on the first day of his bondage.

Joey sat at a long table, twis'ing his fingers under the bench. He felt the call of the wild, and almost cried because he could not run away. The kindly little Rebi observed his restlessness and, drawing him near, opened the book. He pointed with a sharp little pencil.

"This," said he, "is an Aleph, Yossele; this is a Beth; this is a Gimel. They are pretty, aren't they? Now, repeat after me 'Aleph, Beth, Gimel—'"

But Joey thought of the little pond back of Wunder's lot, of the frogs perched upon the logs, croaking, of the boys pelting them with

stones. The Rebi repeated patiently, "What is this one, Yossele. Don't you know?"

He understood the boy, and knew he would have to earn his tuition fee by the sweat of his brow. Joey stammered, swallowed his spittle hurriedly, and tears filled his little black eyes. The man was so terribly persistent.

Then the Rebi, as an adept in magic, coaxed him with a device as old as Abraham; the ancient patriarch must have employed it with his son Isaac.

"Yossel, have a care. Do you know that God has his eye on you? Haven't you heard what he does if a boy learns well? Well, well! You have never heard? Down comes one of the best angels, a pious, a gentle angel, one who is allowed to stand at least 100 feet, one 100 feet away from the throne, and this angel brings with him a few pennies, and when he sees a boy learning well he drops a penny right in front of him to let him know that there is a God who watches over him and loves a good student."

Joey's eyes opened wide. There might be something in this.

The angel—Joey did not see him, though he looked up hurriediy—dropped a penny down on the table! TIt fell with a clink on Joey’s book. And the peculiar thing about it was that the angel did not wait to see if Joey learned well, but, as if he had faith in him, advanced the penny on account.

The little Rebi was an experienced magician. Joey clutched the penny quickly —afraid it might be withdrawn. But there it was in his little fist, a bright copper, and visions of gingerbread, a candy elephant, a savings bank and a Jack-on-the-stick flitted before his eyes. Confident that such angels should be encouraged, he followed the Rebi's pointer: and, wonderful to relate, the Rebi boasted of it.