With a part of this sum she ordered a new coat for
me and bought me a new cap. I remember that coat very well. It
was of a dark-brown cotton stuff, neat at the waist and with
absurdly long skirts, of course. The Jewish Passover often concurs
with the Christian Easter. This was the case in the year in
question. One afternoon--it was the seventh day of our festival--I
chanced to be crossing the Horse-market. As it was not market
day, it was deserted save for groups of young Gentiles, civilians
and soldiers, who were rolling brightly colored Easter eggs over
the ground. My new long-skirted coat and side-locks provoked
their mirth until one of them hit me a savage blow in the face,
splitting my lower lip.
Another rowdy snatched off my new cap--just because our people
considered it a sin to go bareheaded. And, as I made my way,
bleeding, with one hand to my lip and the other over my bare
head, the company sent a shower of broken eggs and a chorus of
jeers after me
It was only a short distance from Abner's Court. When I entered
our basement and faced my mother, she stared at me for a
moment, as though dumfounded, and then, slapping her hands
together, she sobbed: "Woe is me! Darkness is me! What has
happened to you?"
When she had heard my story she stood silent awhile, looking
aghast, and then left the house.
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