"Oh, how I love you!"
I also had talks with the Evil Spirit, or Satan. He, too, was always
near me. But he was always trying to get me into trouble
"You won't catch me again, scoundrel you," I would assure him
with sneers and leers. Or, "Get away from me, heartless
mischief-maker you! You're wasting your time, I can tell you
that."
My bursts of piety usually lasted a week or two. Then there was
apt to set in a period of apathy, which was sure to be replaced by
days of penance and a new access of spiritual fervor.
One day, as Reb Sender and I were reading a page together, a very
pretty girl entered the synagogue. She came to have a letter
written for her by one of the scholars. I continued to read aloud,
but I did so absently now, trailing along after my companion. My
mind was upon the girl, and I was casting furtive glances
Reb Sender paused, with evident annoyance. "What are you
looking at, David?" he said, with a tug at my arm. "Shame! You
are yielding to Satan."
I colored
He was too deeply interested in the Talmudic argument under
consideration to say more on the matter at this minute, but he
returned to it as soon as we had reached the end of the section.
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