snowfall, the latter a burst of sun. The snow turned to mud, and between times it poured with rain by the bucketful.
This sort of weather made the old man ill: he became weak in the legs, and took to his bed. br There was no money for food, and still less for firing, and Feigele had to lend for the time being.
The old man lay abed and coughed, his pale, shrivelled face reddened, the teeth showed between the drawn lips, and the blue veins stood out on his temples.
They sent for the doctor, who prescribed a remedy. The mother wished to pawn their last pillow, but Feigele protested, and gave up part of her wages, and when this was not enough, she pawned her jacket-anything sooner than touch the dowry.
And he, Eleazar, came every evening, and they sat together beside the well-known table in the lamplight. "Why are you so sad, Feigele?"
"How can you expect me to be cheerful, with father so ill?"
"God will help, Feigele, and he will get better."
"It's four weeks since I put a farthing into the savings-bank."
"What do you want to save for?"
"What do I want to save for?" she asked with a startled look, as though something had frightened her.
"Are you going to tell me that you will take me without a dowry?"
"What do you mean by 'without a dowry'? You are worth all the money in the world to me, worth my whole life. What do I want with your money? See here, my
