Alas! America was not Russia
A thought crossed my mind that if Reb Sender were here, he, too,
might have to go peddling. Poor Reb Sender! The very image of
him with a basket on his arm broke my heart. America did seem
to be the most cruel place on earth
"I am telling you all this that you may see why I can't invite you to
my house," explained the peddier
All I did see was that the poor man could not help unburdening his
mind to the first listener that presented himself
He pursued his tale of woe. He went on complaining of his own
fate, quite forgetful of mine. Instead of continuing to listen, I fell
to gazing around the synagogue more or less furtively. One of the
readers attracted my special attention. He was a venerable-looking
man with a face which, as I now recall it, reminds me of
Thackeray. Only he had a finer head than the English novelist
At last the henpecked man discovered my inattention and fell
silent. A minute later his tongue was at work again
"You are looking at that man over there, aren't you?" he asked
"Who is he?"
"When the Lord of the World gives one good luck he gives one
good looks as well.
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