554 BERKOWITZ
"How should I know? A thief most likely. The Kozlov smith's boy. He threatened to knock out my teeth."
"So, so, dear brother mine !" sang out Leibnitz, with a cold sneer, and passed his five fingers across Feivke's nose. "We must rub a little horseradish under his eyes, and he'll weep like a beaver. Listen, you Kozlov urchin, you just keep your hands in your pockets, be- cause Leibrutz is here ! Do you know Leibnitz ? Lucky for you that I have a Jewish heart: to-day is Yom Kippur."
But the chicken-faced boy was not pacified.
"Did you ever see such a lip? And then he comes to our house and wants to fight us !"
The whole lot of boys now encircled Feivke with teasing and laughter, and he stood barefooted in their midst, looking at none of them, and reminding one of a little wild animal caught and tormented.
It grew dark, and quantities of soul-lights were set burning down the long tables of the inn. The large building was packed with red-faced, perspiring Jews, in flowing white robes and Tallesim. The Confession was already in course of fervent recital, there was a great rocking and swaying over the prayer-books and a loud noise in the ears, everyone present trying to make himself heard above the rest. Village Jews are simple and ignorant, they know nothing of "silent pray- er" and whispering with the lips. They are deprived of prayer in common a year at a time, and are distant from the Lord of All, and when the Awful Day comes, they want to take Him by storm, by violence. The
