The Stranger
The Old Man
One mustn’t lose hope!
The Old Woman (to Fraidele)
See that the potatoes don’t get burned.
(Fraidele busies herself at the oven.)
The Young Man
Did you hear the heavy thunder?
Mordcha
It struck a tree and it fell into the middle of the road.
(Fraidele rakes out the potatoes and brings them to the table. All rub their hands in anticipation of the warm food. They blow the hot potatoes to cool them, eating them skin and all.)
Mordcha
Come here, bobbe’she, nearer to the table. Take a potato.
The Old Woman
Nu—I’m all right this way, too. (Busying herself at the oven.)
Fraidele
Let me, I’ll scatter the fire.
Mordcha
How are things up your way?
The Old Man
Business is bad all over, but with me—may I not sin with my speech—I can’t complain.
Mordcha
It’s just the same here. Hardly a chance to unload a wagon of wood.
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