Page:Meir Ezofovitch a novel, from the Polish of Eliza Orzeszko.djvu/75

Rh "I sing and pray for my people every day, before the Lord,"

Meir made a gesture of impatience, Ber raised himself from the bed and laughed aloud, but there was no mirth in his laughter.

"Sing aud weep," he said to Eliezer, "your cruel father has crushed all the spirit out of you."

Then he put his hand heavily on Meir's shoulder.

"This is the bold youth, who will try to swim against the current; hut I fear the current will be too strong, —where will it carry you?"

When Meir left Eliezer's room he passed again the woman who still bending over the cradle, seemed asleep. The flickering light of the lamp fell upon her yellow, wasted face, which looked more ghastly in her festive cap and the red rose which drooped upon her forehead. Her blue threadbare caftan only half covered the coarse gray linen underneath. She was not an old woman, but over- worked, badly used, and troubled. One look at her was sufficient to show she had never known domestic happiness and would never reach the ripe old age amidst grand and great grandchildren as Freida, Hersz's widow. Jenta, the pious Jankeil's wife, was like a dead spirit within a live body.

After the last steps of the visitors had died away in the distance, and nothing was heard in the house but the heavy breathing of the sleeping inmates, Eliezer stood in the open door of his room and looked at the dozing woman.

"Mother!" he said, softly, "why do you not lie down?