stitutions send the Jews to the farms, or place them in the various industrial lines, like mechanics or the manufacturing of cement.”
“What is Palestine’s chief export?” I asked.
Here the hospitable man looked down to the ground:
"The export compared with the import is very low. Jaffa, which is the port of Palestine and especially of Jerusalem, sends abroad only fruits. These are grown plentifully, especially oranges, which are sold everywhere in Europe. Then there is a little trade in sacred objects, with which the monks go all over the world. That's all. The importation is far greater. Palestine does not produce enough wheat for her own needs. This cereal is brought from Russia, Bulgaria, Turkey, and especially from Rumania. From England and Russia comes canned fish, from France, cognac and liquors, from Austria, Germany and Belgium, paper, and all the luxuries and women's apparel from France, England and Austria. I have been in business for thirty years and I can say that the annual importation is approximately 17,000,000 francs."
"Grandfather, papa is calling you." Our conversation was interrupted by the shrill voice of a blond and beautiful little boy. He spoke French.
Schoenberg introduced the boy:
"My grandchild."
Then resuming:
"The coach of the Tel-Aviv colony is just passing. If you have time it would be advisable to go and see it. It will not take more than three quarters of an hour."
"Let us all go!" said I to the captain who seemed anxious to avoid the trip.
"I am at your service," returned Schoenberg, "and I am willing to give you all explanations with the greatest pleasure. It is a rare treat for me to speak Rumanian. Especially as I feel that I am forgetting it."
We climbed up a kind of carriage, loaded with colonists and made our way along the wide avenue which cuts Jaffa in two, and where the best stores are located. The port remains behind with its ships anchored in the Mediterranean a mile out from the shore, because of the sharp rocks in the bay. Jaffa, of all the ports on the Syrian coast, is subject to storms. As the port has no wharfs, the vessels are not protected, and the days when the ships are able to anchor quietly may be counted on one's fingers. The horses walk slowly. We have to stop from time to time and let the long lines of camels pass, loaded with barrels and great slabs of stone.
"The whole transport is carried on by means of camels," explained Schoenberg. "We know of no other means of transportation."
Down in the valley at the seashore, we leave behind the old and dirty custom house, with its narrow and
Israel, Awake!
muddy little street. The Arabian quarter with its houses built one against the other remains in the background. We are out of the city. The biblical Joppa is nestled on a green hill, descending toward the Mediterranean. Jaffa is the ancient witness of many sacred deeds. From here the prophet Jonah went in a vessel to Nineveh,—Jonah who for three days and three nights dwelt inside the whale. To-day Jaffa has a cosmopolitan population of 75,000 inhabitants. A quarter of the population is Jewish.
Going out of the city we reach the Tel-Aviv colony. The horses walk slowly and make a gentle tapping on the asphalted streets. Stone houses with bright windows are on both sides of the streets. Lawns with splendid multi-colored exotic flowers invite attention. It is a nest of cleanliness and activity. One would say we are in the home of newly married people, longing for work, with new plans for their housekeeping and with great hopes for their future. In Tel-Aviv we do not see the sleepy Arab stretched out in the sunshine as on the shores of Jaffa, and there are no heaps of dirt as in the Arab quarters of Jaffa. In the Jewish colony all the streets are asphalted.
We got down from the team. Schoenberg makes us stop at each corner and gives us information with much happiness and sympathetic enthusiasm, proud that his nation, almost on the decline, has revived and is laying out a new and fruitful way for itself. It seems queer to us Rumanians, who have known the sons of Israel only as measuring by the yard and doing brokerage and banking business, to see them laboring on the farms in the heat of the sun. See, there is one of them with his little skullcap and his earlocks tilling the soil of his garden. And there comes another from the fields with his plough.
"The huge building in the back is the High School," continues Schoenberg, pointing out everything of interest.
"Have they a High School here also?" I asked him astonished.
"Yes," answered our guide, "eight hundred pupils from all Palestine are completing their studies here."
The High School dominates the whole street with its majestic appearance. Schoenberg shows us the Conservatory of Music, and tells us that they have decided to build a University in Jerusalem where all the lectures will be held in Hebrew, thus helping to realize the resurrection and progress of the people of Israel, and the gathering of more Israelites to this land of promise. Then smiling into his little white beard:
"They have money these—Jews!"
And I thought: If the other Jewish colonies are like this one, then one may truly say, Palestine Revives.
How long the haze enshrouds my weary soul, And eyes, aflame from peering at the dark, And heart, rebellious that—oh, Israel, hark! What flare and crash and shrieks, what frightful dole Now smites the night? Heav'n help! the battle roll Storms like a hurricane and death stalks stark Amid the frenzied hate. Is this the lark Whose trill would herald dawn, make Judah whole?
Who knows, who knows, how soon the night may flee, And bear away the tempest, that the sun Shall smile on chastened hearths, and ecstacy Flower the old-new land, our bondage done. I seem to feel my rust-red fetters break: 'Tis dawn —to Zion! Israel, Israel! Awake!