Page:Balkan Short Stories.djvu/72

60 right hand and the head of Sura with his left, dashes them together and they split open like egg shells.

When the two heads smash together there is a noise like the thunder.

With agony of soul, like a man plunged from a high cliff, Leiba calls: “A world stands by and looks on calmly while we are made the sacrifice of a madman!”

But somehow he cannot say the words; they stick to his lips.

“Up—Jew!” a voice calls, and a great whip strikes upon the table.

“That's a stupid joke!” remarks Sura from the door-step of the rest-house. “The idea of startling a man out of sleep like that: miserable peasant-dog!”

Leiba jumped up.

“You're afraid, are you, Jew?” a scornful jester asks.

“Sleeping in broad daylight?—Get up—guests are coming. The stage is here.”

And after the old custom—which sets the Jews in agony—he put his arms around him and began to tickle him.