: Pad i 4 2 : 2 $ bea pat) ach R specs
Sacer? ES AD Sree Se BE AS Ee ew Ps Sage
nae
age
+
sp esieetcteepaniap i cn armen cera
ae aa ares epee? Paste tea estat ew iets Be Fea oes peat Osa Hees See nee ge fete
3 f ~ 5 ? Lae i 7 a2
Settee sie
es
Pe ses eee at ar : : eo Pedaon Fat ae STOR FEH Eee A Seine ad tye Tht oer ae we Seti Gr yt ater at rs rae Pyare y Spence ta 308 ; 4 = Re bat ahr Fae Daas
= 52 : ; a7 2 ; ; : : : : at
: ; ie : = ; Sestae rs 43 bey : 4 a of : ; ; * te
ee a3 ae Sora Pee sate erates tear oiateceeh ee vese Rae gt 4 ee sty ;
: eek Severe : a epee
. 2 ip pe os a peiae oS: te 3 : i , ; : : : s.
2 zi rt. :; Pets fete, erate Feit ate x): 2 J me
> : airs ea ; ‘ sae
Pepe." Agate eet : Hees eae ate eresy yes ye ‘ ry eT “et aA] Pee + : eeeereieis
fore
He si
Sidi are tee
Se Dy eae oreo)
+
c . ets Ba ce?’ as 5 "
oe e *? 3 , Eyes i : ana
‘
Task, xf
Sf, i pase
Sete Po ee 9 2
$ , :
reap
serene yisemes te srivestee Tid i : ey |
Pore reas ie, +e erred SN apetetys ieee se ee : See + ; sage arse athe
Bay ay hee SR paGu Ss eta atau ate tis bat saa ered et
fies 7 ; ;
:
peode seats raat sutess
Pista iat
Nae we She : 43335
cate
sscsasell 2. roa . eockeg i : aq seat +
risk, =
pases:
i*
ea
et
4
*
Pee os Reaver nae HSE
adhe ; give : eet
Tats s¢ . g
oe
ee al
pees
ry
Sri
af
scseytid >
Sioe te.
Cs
ity
+
ad
we
oP yioaes
sities
af
Ne ag
$2 24 ai
#2 : tA o¢ 3 53 yet Fee!
. 2 site | Ben eses: 44
on
poae
ee - oe ‘ Sehr roe ! 3 ty
> : - 3 2 +3 } ie
eyo aiees se! ' ee . peat es, oh Fog ar : =
+.
3
<
we
eo Se oes
paye
rs
org he
ors
é Pye ; . Sieeisere ye:
oie : : etal : ‘ : 3 r ; sepie : : es ie
a et : : { ‘ f ee ‘ fetibihes ; } j : ‘ Moeoet
vy
ey
-
et ae oe
eee
Corner eer ae ies
Pek erat
te oe be
elettere vlan
rere
exh
oraress
é iss
454072 See
Se ae a PSs]
Haass
yeas
reo
ia
oes
Library of The Theological Seminary
PRINCETON » NEW JERSEY
Ca
PRESENTED BY
John Stuart Conning, D.D.
PS 0S 940 Le eGo oo
Tobenkin, Elias, 1882-1963.
God of might
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2022 with funding from
Princeton Theological Seminary Library
-httos://archive.org/details/godofmightOOtobe
GOD OF MIGE
BY
ELIAS TOBENKIN
AUTHOR OF “WITTE ARRIVES,” “THE
HOUSE OF CONRAD,” ETC.
“Earth, mother of us all...I cry on you.”
AESCHYLUS : Prometheus Bound.
NEW YORK
MINTON, BALCH & COMPANY
1925
COPYRIGHT, 1925, BY
MINTON, BALCH & COMPANY
Second Printing, February, 1925
Printed in the United States of America by
Jj. J. LITTLE AND IVES COMPANY, NEW YORK
To
My FatHER
ia
, fe
Hebe
i
CHAPTER
I. SamMueEt Discovers THE WORLD .
VITl.
CONTENTS
BOOK ONE
A CHILD OF THE PALE
BOOK TWO
NEW EARTH
LINCOLN
DREAMS AND FAIRIES
Gop
SPRING CAME .
SCORNED Mite tiaed es Ciencias etry
Rosa Karp—OTHERS
PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE
BOOK THREE
WHAT IS LIGHT
JEW AND CHRISTIAN .
JESSIE GRANT . :
“FATHER, WHAT Is LIGHT?”
Gotp Gives His BLESSING
PAGE
37
53
61
70
82
95
109
115
128
140
151
CHAPTER
XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
XVIT.
CONTENTS
BOOK FOUR
FAITH OF THE FATHERS
SILENCE
THE RoLi-CALL
THe Locust FIELD
A Rasgi’s DAUGHTER
FORGIVENESS
BOOK FIVE
CLOSING GATES
A TENANT
THE Bic CHuRCH
FATHER OF MERCIES!
Ties oF BLoop
PALE ALE Cy Nets inte die
GOD! OF MIGHD yet Sang han
PAGE
165
173
183
IQI
203
217
225
241
247
256
264
BOOK ONE: A CHILD OF THE PALE.
GOD OF MIGHT
CHAPTER I.
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD.
b ies
T was sometime between the ages of three and four
that little Samuel discovered the world. Simulta-
neously with this discovery came the awareness of his
race; an awareness that life and living to a Jew was an
entirely different matter from what it was to all other
people.
The world which little Samuel discovered was a
typical village of the Russian pale. Its three thousand
inhabitants were evenly divided between the peasants
who tilled the soil, and the Jews who were the mechan-
ics and merchants of the community, the tailors, shoe-
makers, blacksmiths, on the one hand, and the grain
dealers, grocers and hardware men, on the other.
The Jews, too, kept the inns where the peasants drank
their vodka. Between these two classes geographic
lines were sharply drawn. The Jewish homes clus-
tered about the market place where their stores and
warehouses were located. The peasants lived on the
3
4 Gop oF MIcHT
outer streets, where they had more room for their
barns, granaries, and threshing floors.
To one side of the market place, on a small eleva-
tion, towered the Greek orthodox church, its green
roof with gilded cupolas and crosses sparkling in the
distance and visible from a great way off. It was sur-
rounded by beautiful grounds and oak trees, and was
set off from the rest of the town by stone hedges.
The synagogue, a much older and less pretentious
structure, stood at the crossing of two narrow, gray
streets in the ghetto. There was not a tree nor a blade
of grass in front of it.
The dead were divided as sternly as the living.
The Jewish and the Christian cemeteries lay parallel
to one another, but there was a distance of nearly
two miles between them, and different streets led to
each. The Christian funeral processions started from
the church. The Jewish funerals passed the syna-
gogue.
At sundown, on Fridays, an old Hebrew with a
powerful voice would hasten through the Jewish quar-
ter, stopping at every street corner and calling in a
quaint singsong: “In-to-the-Synagogue!” At the
sound of the man’s voice every form of manual labor
would cease in the ghetto. Stores and shops would be
put under lock and key. In the homes there would
be a hasty donning of Sabbath clothes. Women would
light their Sabbath candles and the men and boys
would start off for the synagogue.
At the same hour on Saturday in the Greek Ortho-
%
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 5
dox church the bells would begin to boom. Every
peasant, wherever he happened to be, would take his
hat off and make the sign of the cross. The ringing
of the bells proclaimed that the week’s toil was at an
end and Sunday was approaching.
The town sloped into the Niemen, the great White
Russian River, whose murmuring never ceased. In
the spring and summer the river was covered with
rafts of lumber, huge trunks of oak and pine, that
were piloted to German ports by swarthy men and
boys. On the opposite bank of the river were fields
and, a mile or two beyond them, the forest, a huge,
massive shadow, looming against the sky.
II,
They—his father and his mother—kept a hardware
store in the center of the Market Place. His father,
David Wasserman, was tall and thin. Ever since
Samuel remembered anything his father had been
frail. David’s ample beard covered a hollow chest.
Samuel’s mother, Sarah, by contrast with her hus-
band, was only of medium height, and plump of figure.
Her skin was white and her alert brown eyes were
always kindly. It was his mother who was the main-
stay of the Wasserman hardware business.
Every Thursday was market day and the peasants
from the neighboring villages would come to town and
offer their grain, flax, seeds, eggs and fowls for sale.
They brought with them their horses and cattle.
The peasants were moujiks, and moujik was a vile
6 Gop oF MIGHT
word, something no one would care to be called. Nev-
ertheless the peasants interested little Samuel greatly.
They interested him for two reasons: the peasants
had horses and they had no schools. Their children,
little boys like himself, not yet five, were riding horse-
back. And there was no going to school for them.
They played until they were old enough to go to work.
To little Samuel this seemed an ideal arrangement,
and the nearer his fifth birthday approached—the
limit set by his father to his schoolless existence—the
more ideal it appeared. He was in fact beginning to
doubt whether all he had heard about the free life of
the peasant children could possibly be true. It prob-
ably wasn’t. Most likely the peasants, too, had
schools for their children of which they, the Jews,
did not know. He would make certain; he would in-
vestigate for himself.
His planned excursion into the non-Jewish section
of the town was, however, postponed by little Samuel
from week to week. It was not a thing to be hur-
ried. To be sure, he knew where the peasant quarter
lay, he had been there two or three times with his
father. But there was the rub. His father knew all
about the Christians. On opening the gate to a peas-
ant’s hut David knew how to quiet the dog; how to
get the animal to run up to him and sniff the hem of
his long coat. And when he entered the peasant hut
his father knew just what to say to the woman and
how to talk to the men. David spoke the peasant
dialect.
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 7
After several weeks of planning and wavering Sam-
uel decided that the matter would brook no further
postponement. He must act. Late one July after-
noon, therefore, when he knew that every Jewish boy
above the age of five was in school, he ran to the in-
visible border line that marked the Christian from the
Jewish quarter, stopped, hesitated an instant, clenched
his teeth together, and plunged into the peasant ter-
ritory.
The street was clear of people. The haying season
was at its height, and the men and women were in
the fields. He passed two, three, four houses, and
there was not a sign of life about them. The flap-flap
of Samuel’s bare feet upon the sand ceased. He had
come to the seventh house, and here there were chil-
dren, a dozen or more. They were gathered in a
knot in the yard. Some of the children were of an
age with him, but most of them were older—of school
age. There were several little girls among them, too.
The girls and boys were playing together. And how
they played! Several of the bigger boys had between
them a dog, a big, shaggy animal, whose head they
were trying to get into a bridle improvised by them
from a piece of rope. The bridle did not fit, and they
kept turning and twisting the animal’s head from side
to side, meanwhile whooping and yelling, as peasants
do when felling a tree or engaging in other equally
important or risky work. The girls looked on with
breathless interest.
At first Samuel watched them from across the
8 Gop oF MIGHT
street, then he drew nearer, and at last came up to
the very gate and leaned against it. He did not re-
member how long he stood there; it was so new and
entrancing. He came to only when he observed the
eyes of one of the little girls riveted upon him. She
tittered and the entire crowd looked in his direction.
The boys were shouting something to him, but he did
not understand them, and stood as if transfixed. Only
when several of the youngsters made a lunge in his
direction did he awake to the danger.
He was on his feet in an instant. He could run as
fast as his pursuers, and soon reached the invisible
boundary line. But he did not stop there. The
peasant lads pushed their pursuit no farther and con-
tented themselves with throwing stones in Samuel’s
direction and howling after him in a chorus: “Jew,
Jews Jew wee
Iil.
Samuel kept his adventure secret. The question,
however, as to why it was necessary for Jewish chil- ~
dren to go to school, while the peasant lads could stay
home and play and do as they pleased, troubled him.
He finally asked his father about it.
David Wasserman took his son’s question seriously
—he took everything the child asked him seriously—
and answered: “Jewish children go to school because
they must know how to read the law.”
“And why must they know how to read the law?”
“Because,” David argued patiently with his little
son, “because a Jew must get ready for the other
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 9Q
world, and one can prepare for the world-to-come only
by reading the law and obeying its commandments, by
being pious.”
“How will the peasants get to the other world,
then?”
“They won’t get to it,” David answered. ‘Peasants
don’t go to paradise. They have no life after death.
That is why they don’t need to go to school. Of what
use would school be to them?” |
Samuel had his answer. So there was a world-to-
come. Going to school meant preparing for this other
world; accumulating a “portion in heaven,” in para-
dise. How envious the peasant lads would be if they
knew that he, little Samuel, whom they jeered and
flouted, was to enter paradise, while they would never
so much as get near it. Some day when he grew up
and could speak their tongue he would tell them this.
Wouldn’t they be sorry!
But that “some day” was a great way off. And in
the meantime the harvest season was at hand and
the peasant children were having a glorious time.
They were out in the fields all day and toward eve-
ning they would come riding home atop ot a load
of unthreshed grain, or aloft a haywagon.
As Samuel watched the peasant lads go by, their
bodies half hidden in fragrant clover or the gold
sheaves of oats or wheat, his little heart would fill
with yearning. At times it even grew rebellious, and
he would be on the verge of doing something rash,
desperate ... Thus on two or three occasions he
1 ae) Gov oF MIGHT
stood ready to exchange his portion in the world-to-
come for a ride on a haywagon, but as nobody came
to strike a bargain with him, the mood passed.
Meanwhile the harvest was over, and the Jewish
New Year was approaching. The atmosphere in the
ghetto was one of solemnity which even little Samuel
could not escape. Yes, life was a serious business.
After the New Year came the Day of Atonement.
And after that the Feast of the Tabernacles. Then
the long Russian winter began—and school...
Samuel was mentally preparing himself for the lat-
ter EVENE 573i).
Iv.
He was learning new prayers and invocations daily.
He could not help learning them. The prayer book
was the text used by his teacher. There were prayers
for every occasion. One could not take a drink of
water, or a bite of apple, without having to recite
a prayer. There were prayers for week days and
there were prayers for the Sabbath. There were in-
vocations to be uttered on the first day of the month
and there were prayers to be recited on seeing the
new moon. And all of them had to be learned by
heart. For each there was a reward in the world-to-
come. The more diligently one applied himself to
“the book,’ the more magnificent one’s portion in
heaven would be.
One’s portion in heaven ... It was everlastingly
dangling before Samuel’s eyes and made him patient
and submissive... The ghetto school day was
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD II
long; summer or winter it was nine to ten hours on
week days. On Fridays there was a half day off in
honor of the Sabbath.
School was conducted in the living room of the
teacher’s house, or in someone else’s living room,
hired for the purpose. It was stiflingly hot in the sum-
mer; in the winter the windows were covered with
ice. But whether it was a cold winter morning, or a
sultry summer afternoon, Samuel yielded himself up
to his book with equal steadfastness and patience.
He would not trifle with his chances in the world-to- —
COME.) vi
After a time it occurred to him to wonder whether
it was not possible to omit a prayer now and then,
without having it noticed by anyone, anywhere. Of
course he could not inquire about such a thing. He
would not confide such thoughts to anyone. But
the teacher one day chose his lesson for Samuel from
among the rear pages of the prayer book, where the
holiday services were to be found, the services for
the New Year and for the Day of Atonement—and
Samuel’s questionings were answered. It could not be
done. There was a “Book of Records” in heaven, in
which was written down every good deed and every
dereliction. Nothing escaped this heavenly system of
bookkeeping, neither acts, nor words, nor thoughts.
And there were no loopholes, no wriggling out of sins
committed. Under each record, whether good or bad,
appeared one’s own signature. The Lord God him-
self had this book of records in his safekeeping. He
12 Gop oF MIGHT
was ‘‘witness and recorder” . . . And He was “judge
and arbitrator,” “calling to mind all things forgotten.”
No, there was no trifling with prayers ...
By the time he had reached the age of ten he had
changed schools and teachers three times. He knew
the five books of Moses and was reading the prophets.
Simultaneously with this he began studying the
Talmud.
Vv.
In the twilight hour on the Sabbath, when it was
still too early to strike a match and usher in the week,
Samuel’s father and his uncle, his mother’s brother,
Jacob Gold, would talk together in whispers. At first
it was the apprehensive manner in which they talked
that caught Samuel’s attention. Later the subject mat-
ter began to interest him, and he would stop in his
childish dreaming and listen to their conversation.
A czar had died and a new czar had ascended the
throne. The new czar, it seemed, did not like the
Jews. Neither the czar nor his advisers liked them,
and new decrees were contemplated against the He-
brew population of the realm. It was about these
decrees that the subdued conversation of Samuel’s
father and his uncle turned in the hour between sun-
set and the coming out of the stars, when the day
of rest was taking its lingering departure.
Uncle Jacob was the younger of the two men in
years and in spirit. He was as tall as David, but
more robust. While Samuel’s father was versed ex-
clusively in Hebrew lore, his uncle could read and
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 13
write the Russian language as well. The peasants had
a wholesome respect for Jacob Gold because of this,
and whenever one of them received any sort of sum-
mons or document, he would search out Jacob Gold
in his tobacco shop and give it to him to read and
interpret.
In matters of religion, too, Uncle Jacob was more lax
than David. He wore no sidelocks, and the ends of
his thick, black beard were evenly trimmed. He went
to the synagogue only on the Sabbath and on holidays,
and spoke with good natured raillery about the ex-
cessively long prayers which the Jews uttered three
times a day. “I wonder,” he would say, “if God does
not get weary of all this bald flattery.” He also made
light of the many ghetto ceremonials.
Jacob Gold subscribed to a Hebrew journal pub-
lished in St. Petersburg, and in this journal Samuel’s
father and uncle followed the progress of the decrees
against the Jews, week in and week out, for years. The
decrees were being drafted . . . The draft had been
advanced to such and such a ministry ... It had
been sent back for revision ... It had been revised
and would now be laid before the czar . . . Now the
czar had signed it . . . And now it was a Ukase.. .
The Ukase was published throughout the empire .. .
The Hebrew journal from St. Petersburg was bring-
ing weekly lists of cities whence the Jews had been
ordered to depart. The date for carrying out the order
had arrived . . . The Jews were being driven by the
thousands, by the tens of thousands from the vil-
14 Gop oF MIGHT
lages, from the towns where they were born, where
their ancestors had lived before them for generations,
for centuries ...
More decrees came.
These concerned themselves with the Jews living
within the pale. The number of Jewish business
places must be restricted. This last decree applied to
Samuel’s town. It concerned his own family ...
When the season came for the various Jewish mer-
chants of the town to renew their licenses, ‘difficul-
ties” arose ... These difficulties, however, were
overcome by handsome “‘gifts” to the city and district
officials.
Nevertheless a cloud descended upon the Jewish
homes. The import of these decrees had reached the
peasants. The old men discussed the matter gravely.
The young men leered ...
Rumors came like the rumbling of distant thunder.
There were riots . . . In far off provinces Jews were
being robbed and pillaged. There were murders.
Jews were being murdered ...
Weeks later the Hebrew journal from St, Petersburg
confirmed these rumors ... The names of the dead
were given, with their ages and occupations.
People sighed, and then consoled themselves: it was
far away.
But it was coming nearer . .
One day Samuel had occasion to pass the town hall.
It bordered on the Gentile quarter. A number of
peasant boys were loitering in front of the place.
‘
SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD I5
“They are driving out the Jews in the third province
—did you hear about it?” one of the young peasants
was saying to his neighbor, with a wink at Samuel.
“‘To be sure,” the other peasant replied. ‘They are
driving them out, of course they are.”
“Kill a Jew and pay a fine of three kopecks,” a
third quoted a popular saying, and the whole Coney
laughed uproariously.
Samuel lurched to one side as if he had been shucks
The laughter of the peasants pursued him. .
The campaign against the Jews was extending. It
was spreading into the pale. Into the cities of the
pale ... It embraced all Russia... The Hebrew
journal from St. Petersburg had become a roster of in-
dignities. Existence was becoming a nightmare. .. .
A strange perspicacity descended upon Samuel.
Things became more meaningful than they had ever
been. There was significance in everything, in words,
in looks, in faces. There was significance in the way
things were said or left unsaid. His father, his uncle,
people all about him frequently left things unsaid.
They spoke in broken, half finished sentences, as if
ashamed of someone, as if ashamed of each other.
Fear lurked in them, numb, paralyzing fear...
Vi.
Samuel helped in the store. David’s health was
growing worse. On market days he would stand along-
side his father and carry out the latter’s orders.
After every market day, when Samuel had waited
16 Gop oF MIGHT
on score upon score of peasants, and had listened for
the hundredth time to the word “Jew”—that Jews
were infidels, that they were robbing the Greek ortho-
dox peasants, that the peasants would some day rise
and cut the throat of every Jew—Samuel would lie
awake hour after hour through the night.
On such sleepless nights the feeling of living in a
cage would come over him. He was in a prison. The
town was a prison. The world was a prison. He was
chained 30...) Bound) oy on) Helpless) oir
He spoke about this to his uncle. Samuel was no
longer going to school, and he frequently sought out
Jacob Gold in the latter’s tobacco shop. An intimacy
had sprung up between uncle and nephew.
Gold listened to Samuel in silence.
“That feeling of being a prisoner, of living in a
cage,” he said thoughtfully, ‘that is something every
Jew has to get used to. One becomes accustomed to
it... You, too, will become accustomed to it in
time ei
But it was hard to become accustomed. Matters
were growing worse daily. The insults were becoming
sharper. It seemed to Samuel that things could not
go on that way much longer. Something would have
to happen. 149
him and his projects seriously. It was in this way that
their love began.
III.
Jessie and her aunt were having breakfast one Mon-
day morning toward the end of February. Jessie was
eating little, and there was a languid look about her.
Samuel had remained late the previuos evening, and
after he had gone she had slept poorly.
Samuel was adhering to her injunction to forget the
Old World. But it was she who was now from time
to time asking questions. Their growing intimacy made
her curious about a thousand things in his childhood,
in his early boyhood, about his home and playmates.
These could not always be dissociated from ques-
tions of faith, and Samuel told her about his religion,
the belief of the Jews, how much of it he accepted, and
what he rejected.
She had been dreaming of these things that morning,
and especially of his father. She dreamed that Sam-
uel’s father was in America. David had forgotten his
own language and was speaking exactly as her father
did . . . He had in fact become like her father to her.
. . . she was always in his company. He was helping
her about the house, and was kind, so kind... .
She was thinking over her dream as she stirred her
coffee. Miss Dey was speaking about her work that
day. A busy morning was before her. Mrs, Thorn-
dyke was coming in at eleven for a fitting.
150 Gop oF MIGHT
“Ts that the wife of the new Presbyterian minister?”
Jessie asked.
Ro pac 2?
‘Why must there be so many different denomina-
tions?” Jessie mused aloud. ‘‘Why can’t Christians
just be Christians?” . Pe
Her aunt did not answer.
It was a rule with Miss Dey never to enter into
discussions about religion with her customers, with
anyone. She worked for the wives of all the ministers
in town. They were all pleasant, friendly women.
The husbands were even kindlier. All the ministers —
agreed that religion was a matter of the heart—but, of
course, people had to have their churches.
Jessie went on speaking ramblingly about religion,
until she came to the difference in religion existing
between her and Samuel. Samuel had been born in
the Hebrew faith; his people in the Old World were
Hebrews.
Miss Dey was carefully buttering a bit of toast. By
contrast with her niece, she had a good appetite that
morning, and was making a solid breakfast of it. Hold-
ing the toast half way to her mouth, she said:
“What does it matter what one’s religion is, so long
as one serves the Lord. It is the sort of life one leads
that counts, not the church one goes to.”
Neither of them manifested any further interest in
the matter.
A ee ee _
CHAPTER XII.
Gotp GIvEs His BLESSING.
1b
ARPENTERS were hammering, installing fix-
tures and counters. Another set of workmen
was weaving a network of wires overhead for cash and
parcel conveyances to the balcony, which in turn was
being fitted up with a cashier’s booth and a work
place for the packing girls. Several advance ship-
ments of goods had already arrived. The store, the
first department store in Lincoln, was taking shape.
In a small office in the rear, Samuel was receiving
salesmen, and they were talking terms and credit.
It was astonishing how eager these men seemed to be
to supply him with goods. He was cutting many of
the suggested orders in half, others to a third, and
still others to only a fifth. From the first his idea had
been to start his business in a small way, and he was
not deviating from it.
On her way to lunch Jessie would step in for a few
minutes each day. Samuel had grown so accustomed
to these brief visits that after the noon whistle he
would watch the hands of the clock impatiently until
15!
152 Gop oF MIGHT
he heard her light, swift steps, when he would rush to
meet her.
On a pad of paper before him would be marked
down two or three items about which he talked with
Jessie during the five or six minutes she spent with
him. It gave him a thrill of pleasure to talk business
with her. That was how things had been in his fam-
ily . . . His mother invariably sat at his father’s elbow
when David was balancing his books . . . His parents
always talked business matters over together ...
It was the end of July. Two weeks remained till
the opening of the store. Samuel had retained Otto
Guenther as his head salesman and manager. Guen-
ther, a tall, athletic man, immaculately dressed, who
carried himself like a statesman, took the detail of
procuring and organizing a working force off his em-
ployer’s mind. Nevertheless, the burden on Samuel’s
shoulders did not seem to have lightened much.
He wished Jessie might stop working. Many times
through the day he caught himself wanting to ask
her opinion, her advice. But he did not suggest it.
It would be some time yet, five or six months, before
they would marry, and it might arouse needless specu-
lation, and attention.
He was visiting Miss Dey’s home nightly now, and
stuck away in his pockets, there were nearly always
some letters and papers to be talked over with Jessie.
On these business sessions Jessie’s aunt frequently
permitted herself to intrude. Samuel made her wel-
come. Occasionally he would draw her into the con-
Gotp Gives His BLESSING. 153
versation, ask her opinion. Miss Dey was immensely
pleased over it, but never, by word or gesture, would
she confess her feelings. She invariably delivered her-
self of her opinion thoughtfully, and with much reserve
and dignity.
Larkin, the advertising manager of the Lincoln Sen-
tinel, had been to see Samuel about an opening day
announcement and, sitting with Jessie and her aunt
one evening, Samuel was trying to think of an appro-
priate name for the store. On a slip of paper before
him he had the names of department stores in Chicago
and several other cities, and he read them off: “The
Fair,” ‘The Hub,” “The Emporium,” and so on.
“Why don’t you just call it ‘Waterman’s,’ as you did
your first store?” Jessie suggested.
Miss Dey was an enthusiastic second.
“T wouldn’t think of calling it anything else,” she
affirmed.
“Waterman’s, Waterman’s,” Jessie repeated, trying
to visualize how the name onus look in the printed
page of the Sentinel.
Samuel was smiling.
“All right,” he said, “Ill tell Mr. Larkin to make
it ‘Waterman’s.’ ”
He looked at the clock.
“Tt’s nearly eleven,” he exclaimed, “how fast the
evening has gone.”
“Ves, and the summer, too, is almost gone,” Jessie
said plaintively.
It had been a strenuous summer for Jessie, no less
154 Gop oF MIGHT
than for Samuel—all work and no play. Often after
he left her in the evening she would lie awake, think-
ing over his work and his responsibilities. Her face
and eyes had grown sedate, serious during these sum-
Jmer months.
Samuel was keenly aware of this. He, too, was
sorry the summer had gone by so quickly and pro-
saically. There was scarcely anything he could say,
however, with her aunt present.
Miss Dey had been keeping back a question which
was on the tip of her tongue every time Samuel came.
She sprung it suddenly:
“How much will the whole thing come to—I mean
how much will the store be worth when it is opened
to the public?”’
Samuel made some swift mental calculations.
“Between thirty-three and thirty-five thousand dol-
lars—roughly,” he announced.
“Of course,” he added, ‘I’ve pared everything down
to the minimum. I’ve no doubt that before the first
week is out there will be many large re-orders to
make.”
Thirty-three thousand dollars! Samuel had spoken
of it just as coolly as on the farm they once mentioned
the price of a sack of oats . . . Jessie would be the
mistress of thirty-three thousand dollars—more in
time)...
Miss Dey had an impulse to jump up from her chair
and to wave, to shout something across to someone—
far off . . . But she did not jump. She remained in
Gotp Gives His BLESSING _ 155
her seat and was trying to appear calm, trying to gaze
before her with the air of one who is thinking: ‘Yes,
that’s about right, that’s what I thought.”
Jessie had her eyes to the floor. Her aunt’s sur-
prise had not escaped her. Samuel was always setting
people gasping with astonishment at what he under-
took, accomplished . . . Vaguely she even realized
her aunt’s thoughts. She said nothing.
Miss Dey rose to go. Samuel gathered his papers
together. Jessie took him to the corner and then ran
back into the house. As she reached her room, her
aunt was there, waiting for her.
On the wall directly over the head of the bed hung
a photograph of Jessie’s mother. Miss Dey was gaz-
ing at the likeness of her dead sister. Jessie was
preparing to go to bed.
“T guess your mother—would have been pleased,”
Miss Dey said, with a glance from the picture to Jes-
sie, and quietly left the room.
II.
Jessie’s brother Horace came home for over Labor
Day. He arrived at midnight on Friday. At break-
fast the next morning brother and sister were trying
to read in each other’s faces the things that had or had
not happened in the fifteen months each had been sep-
arated from the other.
To Horace his sister’s appearance was an agreeable
surprise, for Jessie looked flourishing. She was beauti-
156 Gop oF MIicHT
ful. There was a firmness about her person that had
never been there before, as if her entire mental and
physical structure had been reinforced during his ab-
sence.
In her letters to him during these fifteen months
Jessie had written nothing about her intimate life. He
had known girls who begin to grow frail and timid at
the age Jessie was, who quietly fell back to the rear
and left the stage to others. But Jessie was decid-
edly on the stage. In fact, she seemed to be in the
very center. There was a look of benignity in her face
and eyes, as if she were in possession of certain gen-
erous gifts, which she was about to distribute...
Horace was twenty-two, and only two years younger
than Jessie, but his sister’s look made him feel as if he
were only a child beside her .. .
Jessie, in turn, was not pleased with her brother’s
appearance. Horace looked thin and dry. He was
not at ease. Ridlon, the up-state town in whose only
bank he clerked, had about two thousand inhabitants.
Everyone and everything was in public view. Horace
Grant’s salary as assistant teller was not much above
the earnings of an experienced plumber or delivery
boy. But what the plumber and the delivery boy
could do, a clerk in the bank could not. To take a
glass of beer or to talk with the boys on the corner
for a minute would at once jeopardize his standing in
the community, and might cost him his job. “Tt is
like being a minister,’ Horace had once written to his
sister in jest. Jessie was thinking over these words
GoLtp Gives His BLESSING. 157
now. Horace looked thwarted, cramped physically and
mentally, decidedly so.
They went uptown together and sat talking in her
office till Mr. Mifflin came. Horace then went around
to the Bank of Lincoln to pay his respects to his former
employers and to greet old friends. He stopped in at
several other places, and at noon was back again in
Jessie’s office. They were to go home for lunch to-
gether. ;
They went around the square, and at the second
turn Horace caught sight of the new store that had
gone up in his absence. He had read about it in the
paper, and he had known Samuel Waterman casually.
They had sometimes spoken of him at his aunt’s house.
Jessie’s firm had had real estate dealings with him, he
knew.
He was taking in the store with his eyes before mak-
ing any comment, when Jessie swerved to one side
and entered it.
The store was crowded, but Mr. Guenther, the man-
ager, who was on the floor, caught sight of Jessie,
came over, and greeted her. She smiled a greeting
back at him, passed on to the rear of the store, Horace
following after, and entered the office.
There was no one there. Jessie breezed up to the
desk, swept it with her gaze, and picking up some
letters and papers, ran her eyes over them casually.
While she was standing there the glass door flew
open.
“Hello,” Samuel called in the doorway.
158 Gop oF MIGHT
“You know Horace,” Jessie said, just as the men
were catching sight of each other.
“Why, hello, Mr.—Horace,” Samuel extended his
hand warmly. “Glad to see you. Sit down. There
is a little mixup in prices there . . .”
He took two jumps to the desk, picked up a bill,
swept his eyes over it until he reached a certain figure.
“Be with you in a minute,” he smiled to both of
them, and dashed back into the store.
Horace, his face slightly flushed, his eyes bewil-
dered, took a step forward toward his sister. But
Jessie gave him no chance to frame the question.
“Sam and I,” she said, with a half embarrassed
smile, “are going to be married in January.”
III.
It was Samuel’s plan to let his father in the Old
World know that he was going to marry. He would
say in his letter that he was marrying a girl born in
America, and it would never occur to his father to bring
the girl’s religion into question. David would naturally
assume that the girl was of their faith; there were
Jews all over. A letter written by his uncle in the
same vein would lend an atmosphere of approval to
the marriage, and would clinch the matter. |
In December he came to Chicago to talk this over
with his uncle. Since the visit in the spring, when
Samuel had come to tell Jacob Gold of his love for a
Christian girl, the two had not seen each other. Sam-
Gotp Gives His BLESSING 159
uel had been busy all summer and fall, building and
establishing his new business. Gold was, as usual,
standing behind the counter in his store. When Samuel
entered, his uncle rushed to meet him with outstretched
arms,
There was no one in the store besides them. The
children were at school, and Aunt Minna had gone
out shopping. It was Thursday, the day Mrs. Gold
did her marketing for the Sabbath, and she was not
likely to be back for some time. Jacob pulled up a
chair near the stove for Samuel and another for him-
self.
After some questions and answers on both sides
about family and business, Samuel started to explain
the nature of his mission, and his uncle was in instant
agreement with him. Yes, Samuel should inform his
father of his marriage. By all means let David have
the joy of knowing his only son married, settled in life.
Gold agreed with him about the manner in which the
letter should be phrased . . . Samuel was quite right;
diplomacy was in place here ... He, Jacob, too,
would write to Samuel’s father, to David... Of
course, he would, and he would write in exactly the
same vein...
As always his uncle’s keen mind had anticipated
things and made it unnecessary for Samuel to go into
details, to speak at length . . . Samuel was relieved
and grateful . . . It would but offend his uncle, how-
ever, if he tried to express his appreciation, and Sam-
uel began examining his uncle’s storé, the shelves, the
160 Gop oF MIGHT
stock on them. Perhaps he could make his apprecia-
tion felt in a practical manner .. .
When his eyes had completed the survey of the
store and had come back to his uncle Samuel noticed
for the first time Gold’s face, the manner of his
breathing. ;
“You are ill?” he asked, and his voice sounded as
if it were not his own.
His uncle tried to reassure him.
“How quickly you grow alarmed,” he said. “It’s
nothing dangerous. My heart is affected—a little. The
doctor forbade tobacco, coffee; also I must not excite
myself. With these precautions I am quite all right.”
“How long has it been that way?” Samuel asked,
his face ashen.
“Tt has been coming on gradually.”
“Why haven’t you told me before—the last time I
was here?” Samuel persisted.
“What is there to tell?” his uncle smiled weakly.
“Tt isn’t anything you can help. I am fifty—past fifty
in fact. Such things often come at this age, especially
ii one has had it strenuous in life, and I have had it
a bit hard on occasions.
“Tt am taking good care of myself, now, though, and
the doctor says I am quite all right.” Gold, touched
by the pain in Samuel’s face, wished to hearten him.
“Uncle,” Samuel’s voice sounded hollow, ““you—you
haven’t been worrying about—my marriage?”
“God forbid,” Jacob rose from his chair with a
start. “How can you ask such a question? Why
Gotp Gives Hts BLESSING 161
should I worry over it? You are only trying to live
your life in accordance with your lights. You haven’t
done anything to worry over .. .”
He was seated again, and Samuel came back to the
subject of his uncle’s ailment . . . The country—per-
haps if his uncle moved to the country, it would im-
prove his health ...
He, Samuel, had never been in a more advan-
tageous position to help his uncle, the family...
He would set them up in business anywhere...
He would look after them till they were started,
going...
Gold’s face, his gray beard and eyes, had suddenly
become the playground of conflicting thoughts and
emotions. To live in the country had been his life-
long dream.
“Too late,”’ he shook his head sadly.
Samuel was thinking, revolving plans in his mind.
“Too late,” his uncle repeated slowly. ‘The chil-
dren have their schools here, their friends . . . Minna
has her ghetto and all its paraphernalia. And even
for me Chicago is the better place now. We have good
doctors here, specialists . . .”
Gold rose and paced the floor twice, three times.
Outside a wet snow was falling. He looked at his
watch and walked over to where Samuel stood dazed,
immovable.
“When are you going to be married?” he asked.
“In a month,” Samuel answered.
“In a month,” his uncle repeated. ‘Very well. I
162 Gop oF MIGHT
will write to your father in the next few days. Ill
write .. . In the meantime—”’
Jacob stepped up closer and put his hands on Sam- |
uel’s shoulders.
“In the meantime,” he repeated, as he gazed into
his nephew’s eyes, “here are my congratulations—and
my blessing.”
Gold stepped back quietly and returned to his ac-
customed place behind the counter, Samuel had barely
had time to compose himself when his aunt entered.
BOOK FOUR: FAITH OF THE
FATHERS.
CHAPTER XIII.
SILENCE.
‘P
HILE Samuel was at pains to obliterate com-
pletely whatever differences of temper and con-
duct still existed between himself and the people about
him, Jessie’s people, to acquire the reserve and out-
ward calm of the American man, to set boundaries to
his emotions, and keep his eagerness in restraint, Jes-
sie, in her turn, yielded herself up completely to her
husband’s impetuosity. She succumbed to Samuel’s
ebullient restlessness. Her thoughts were perpetually
trained in his direction, her emotions racing to meet
his ... It-was as if the flame of their love was dis-
solving, transfusing and forming their characters
anew...
The change that had come over her both puzzled
and delighted Jessie.
“T feel,” she confided to Samuel, “as if I were not
myself, but someone else . . . It does not seem pos-
sible that it is my old self that is experiencing all this
delight. I never knew there was so much happiness
in the world .. .”
165
&
166 Gop oF MIGHT
Moods of depression began to alternate with her
moods of ecstasy. A sudden fear would seize her,
fear lest her happiness prove to be but a dream,
vanish...
“Sam,”’ she said to him on returning from a long
drive one Sunday evening in July, ‘Sam, if—if any-
thing ever came between us—if anything happened to
wreck our happiness—I—I don’t know what I would
ete eee
The doctor had explained to Samuel that these
moods were not entirely unexpected in the condition
his wife was in... Jessie was to become a mother
in December.
“Nothing is going to happen,” Samuel was speaking
to her as one does to a child whose unfounded fears
one is trying to allay.
“Nothing can wreck our love,” he continued, taking
her in his arms and kissing her mouth, her eyes, her
hair.
“T’ve been so worried in the last few days, so wor-
ried,” Jessie was mumbling.
She was tired. The warm day and the long ride
in the evening had sapped her strength. He must
get her to bed at once. He helped her undress, taking
off her shoes ... Her mood changed. She played
and teased him like a child ... An hour later, just
as Samuel was falling asleep by her side, Jessie asked:
“You haven’t heard from your family, have your”
She had to repeat the question before his slumber-
ing brain grasped what she was saying, and then he
SILENCE 167
drawled out: ‘“No-o-o.” He was dozing off again,
but the sweetness was gone from his slumber . . . He
was dimly conscious of a prodding at a sore, sensitive
spot within him...
II.
Jessie’s moods of fear and depression had not sub-
sided and the physician was called in. He suggested
a month in the country. In her condition the country
would do Mrs. Waterman no end of good. It was
decided that she should spend a month at Angels’
Camp.
Angels’ Camp was a quaint summer place in a small,
retired valley, less than two hours by train from Lin-
coln. It was far enough from the big cities for visitors
not to swoop down upon it indiscriminately, and it
was seldom crowded. ‘Transportation to and from
Lincoln was fairly good. Samuel would be able to
spend his Sundays with Jessie and, now and then, he
might even manage to snatch an afternoon off during
the week and come out to see her.
. Accommodations for Mrs. Waterman were obtained
at the Blossom Inn, the more exclusive and family-
like of the summer hotels at Angels’ Camp. They
arrived on a Sunday morning. Samuel had stayed
until noon of the following day with her. They ate a
hasty dinner together and a little after one o’clock he
took the train back to Lincoln.
168 Gop oF MIGHT
III.
He was at his desk at three. His mail was waiting
for him. Hastily he passed the envelopes through his
fingers before opening a single one of them: Bills,
invoices, advices from the railroad company, fraternal
notices, a communication from the bank . . . Nothing
from his uncle in Chicago... It was five months
since Jacob Gold had last written ... Yes, the ban
was on—the ban which Aunt Minna had put upon him
since she learned of his, Samuel’s, marriage . . . His
uncle apparently was powerless to lift this ban, power-
less before his wife . . . Poor Uncle Jacob .
And there was me from the Old World!
His father was not writing . . . David had not ee
ten in months . . . Was his ee ill? . . . Was that
the meaning of this silence? Or—
Could Aunt Minna possibly have done it? Could
she possibly have written to his father that he, Sam-
uel, had married a Christian girl? Aunt Minna, his
uncle had written at the time, was desperate...
Could she have stooped to that? . .. If she had, if
she had written to his father, then he, Samuel, would
never again hear from him .. . Yes, his father might
even be dead—Mrs. Gold’s letter might have killed
ine
He passed his hands over his eyes as if to remove
the clouds which seemed to him to be gathering in front
of them . . . He would wait . . . There was nothing
he could do in the matter except be patient... Be
SILENCE 169
patient—and put it out of his mind as much as pos-
sible ... He had not only himself to think of now.
. . . There was Jessie—and there would be a child.
He had responsibilities towards them . . . Their lives
were now in his care, their happiness ... Yes, he
must put these things out of his mind...
He disposed of the mail to Miss Trainor, his stenog-
rapher, to his manager, Mr. Guenther . . . Several
bills he went over personally and with great care...
Four o’clock.
The air was humid, sultry. Samuel leaned back in
his chair weary, enervated. They had been up till late
the night before and he was out of his room at five that
morning, and had strolled along the lake and through
the woods, at first alone, and then with Jessie...
The woods and especially the lake had stirred him. . .
The lake had spoken to him in the language of his
childhood, the language of the Niemen, king of the
White Russian rivers, on the bank above whose mur-
muring waters stood their home...
Ther home...
A thin smile flickered about the corners of his mouth.
How old habits will cling . . . The house by the Nie-
men was long since the property of someone else, but
he had never ceased thinking of it as ther home...
It was the same with the store ... Strangers now
owned it; his father had sold it shortly after the death
of Samuel’s mother . . . But he could only think of
the store as their store ...
The store ... It was woven through with every
170 Gop oF MIGHT
one o. his memories ... His parents had built it
stone upon stone . . . They had begun building the
store long before he, Samuel, was born . . . He had
often heard them speak eagerly, wistfully, about that
time . .. With all its seeming hardships and vicissi-
tudes this period of their early married life, of their
youth, had evidently left behind undying, tender mem-
ories in his parents . . . They had dreamed that he,
Samuel, would be standing in the store when they were
gone ... They had often given expression to these
dreams . . . But others succeeded them—not he, not
their son . . . Others, while he was in America—in a
new land—and building anew . . . He was building
here as his parents had built tere—stone upon stone.
. . . He was building, too, while his child was still
unborn .
He had made frequent resolutions not to delve into
the past—and he was annoyed . . . He tried to shake
off his thoughts . . . Let the dead bury the dead—
yes ... “Let the dead bury the dead”... That
came from the New Testament...
Ty.
He was plunging headlong into the past again, not
only his past in the Russian ghetto, but the past of his
race, in Jerusalem; the past of other races, civiliza-
tions ,,.°. ‘The. New. Testament 2.) 7 @bristi cae
Grief was stirring within him, painful reveries .. .
Would the World ever break through the network of
hate in which it was enmeshed? . . . Would it learn to
SILENCE 171
take simple truths simply? . . . Would people ever
learn to understand each other? . . . Understand each
other—nothing more...
In the Russian pale no Jew ever spoke of the Gali-
lean by name .. . If He was referred to at all it was
as That Man or “‘Toluh” (the One who was hanged )—
never as Jesus, or Joshua, as his name had been in
the eLebrew'.:.)..
That was in the ghetto in Russia . . . In America
it was different. One of the foremost American rabbis
—Samuel was following his sermons every Monday
morning in the Chicago papers—was speaking of
Jesus in the same breath with Moses and Hillel, as a
great Hebrew teacher...
He scorned, this American rabbi did, the ghetto
conception of Jesus as a traitor to his people...
The Young Preacher of Bethlehem and Nazareth was
no renegade from his race . . . What had been done
to the Jews by His followers and in His name, the
rabbi asserted, was done long after Jesus was dead.
. .. He lived and dieda Jew...
Somewhere in his desk drawer was a copy of the
New Testament. There were parts in it Samuel never
tired of reading . . . They were the parts where Jesus
spoke to his followers . . . What a passion, what a
soul . . . And how typical of the Jewish idealist was
His fathomless hate, and uncompromising, deadly de-
fiance, of the overweaning and the overbearing .. .
He was fumbling in his drawer for the copy of the
New Testament when his gaze fell upon Jessie’s pic-
172 Gop oF MIGHT
ture that a mass of correspondence was obstructing
from view. ‘Their parting three hours earlier came
back *to him poignantly.
Jessie had been as cheerful as a lark all morning.
At the last moment, however, a loneliness seized her—
he ascribed it to her condition—and if she had had
her things with her then and there she would have
gone with him back to the city . . . He must write to
her at once... He was reaching out for pen,
paper...
Mr. Guenther, talking in a loud voice, pushed open
the door and a tall, gray-headed man, with a pro-
nounced stoop, entered.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ROLL-CALL.
I.
T was Judge Arvold, the local Justice of the Peace.
Samuel and Judge Arvold were old acquaintances.
When Samuel first joined the Modern Woodmen
Henry Arvold was the Treasurer of the Lincoln branch
of the organization. From the first the Judge be-
friended “the boy from Roosh-ya.”’ At meetings and
gatherings he would introduce Samuel to the other
members and saw to it that the boy was made to feel
at home and had his share of the fun and amusement.
Samuel always remembered Judge Arvold kindly.
He rose and moved over a large leather chair in
which the judge proceeded to make himself comfort-
able. Mr. Arvold took a cigar from the box Samuel
held out, lighted it and began to shower complimen-
tary observations about the weather, the store, Sam-
uel’s office...
Yes, the judge was saying, his wife and daughter
had spoken of the Waterman store frequently and with
great enthusiasm, but it was his first visit to the place.
And it certainly exceeded all expectations.
Mr. Guenther, after listening to the compliments
173
174 Gop oF MIGHT
paid the establishment and taking his due meed of
the praise, bowed himself out of the office. No sooner
were Judge Arvold and Samuel left alone than the
judge suddenly lost all his fluency.
Samuel chewed his cigar and waited. Judge Arvold
no doubt had something to tell him; he would not be
coming otherwise.
“Mr. Waterman,” the justice finally cleared his
voice and gave his face a barely perceptible turn, but
one which was sufficient to keep their eyes from meet-
ing, ‘“‘am I correct in taking you for a Hebrew?”
Samuel experienced a sudden chill as if a chip of ice
had rolled down his spine.
“Why, yes,” he said, “I am a Hebrew, certainly.”
“T supposed you were,” the magistrate brightened
as if the announcement proved good news to him, “but
I thought I would make sure before I put you to any
bother.”
“Bother?”
“Well, in a way—yes,” Mr. Arvold smiled at Samuel
reassuringly.
“The point is,”’ the judge continued, ‘“‘that a country-
man of yours is in trouble, Sam. He was brought
before me this morning .. .
A countryman of his in Lincoln? Samuel was puz-
zled. Judge Arvold explained the matter readily
enough.
It seemed that there were a number of Samuel’s
countrymen—Hebrews from Russia—in Lincoln. They
were living back of the railroad tracks, in Locust Field.
THE RoLtie-Caryu 175
. . . All of them had come from the Old World within
recent months, a year at the outside. They were ped-
dlers, buying up old iron and the like. One of their
number bought several barrels of bolts and spikes as
junk. But the stuff, though rusty and seemingly old,
turned out not to be junk at all, but a part of the
railroad company’s equipment which had recently
been stolen from its warehouse.
“The peddler had no record as to who sold him the
stuff, no receipt of any kind for his money, and the
lawyer for the railroad company had him locked up,”
Mr. Arvold concluded.
“What’s his name?” Samuel sought to make sure
that the peddler in question was a Jew.
“Here it is,” Judge Arvold produced a piece of
paper and spelled out the man’s name: S-E-G-A-L-O-
W-I-T-Z.
“‘Segalowitz,” Samuel repeated it at one gulp and
both broke into a laugh at the performance.
“Of course,” Judge Arvold continued with greater
ease, ‘I had to hold him, seeing that the goods were
found in his possession, but he is no thief; a blind man
could see that. The man has been in this country only
four months and knows scarcely more than two dozen
words in English. He had no lawyer and no bail and
appeared so helpless and bewildered that I felt right
sorry for him. I was casting about for ways and
means of helping the poor devil out, and thought of
you. Perhaps being a countryman of his you might
just naturally take an interest in him.”
176 Gop oF MIGHT
“Ves, certainly,’ Samuel was earnest again. “I
shall get in touch with an attorney and we shall ar-
range for bail—”’’
“Tl tell you what, Sam,” Judge Arvold leaned for-
ward confidentially, “I don’t think you need go
to all that trouble. ~ If you were just to call on the
superintendent of the railroad company, Mr. Isham,
and explain the situation to him, just repeat to him
what I said to you here, I am confident he would have
the man released without another word.”
Very well, Samuel agreed, he would see the rail-
road superintendent. It was near closing time., He
would go up to Mr. Isham immediately after supper.
“Much obliged, Sam,”’ Judge Arvold seemed heartily
glad the matter was righting itself.
When he was gone Samuel tried to recollect what
it was he had been about just before Mr. Arvold had
entered his office. He recalled it finally. It was a
letter to Jessie. He was about to write to her, to cheer
her up. He picked up the pen but could not get more
than a few lines down on paper, nor were these lines
particularly cheerful. His mind felt as if it had sud-
denly been curtained off . . . All he could see or think
about was the peddler, who was in the town lock-up,
and the other Jews who were living in Locust Field.
... They had been living there for months, Judge
Arvold had said. It was a complete surprise to him—
a surprise.
THE ROLL-CALL 177
II.
It came out exactly as Judge Arvold had predicted.
The railroad superintendent, whom Samuel had previ-
ously known only slightly, proved to be very agree-
able. Mr. Isham was nearly twice the age of Sam
Waterman and was a man of experience. Directly
the latter had outlined the facts in the case to him,
the railroad superintendent stepped up to the. tele-
phone and called the company’s lawyer, Tim Walsh.
“Tim,” he spoke into the receiver, “you seem to
have got the wrong man this morning. Yes, the wrong
man. We don’t want to pester a poor foreigner who
does not know our ways just because someone took
advantage of his ignorance and sold him stolen stuff.
I want the man released. Yes, released. At once, if
possible; $s.)
“Walsh says he will try to have the man out to-
night,” the superintendent informed Samuel on re-
joining him.
“T am sorry we put the man to so much trouble,”
Mr. Isham continued. ‘He is just a countryman of
yours, you said?”
“Yes, just a countryman,” Samuel affirmed.
“And you were an immigrant yourself once?” Mr.
Isham asked not unkindly. As the superintendent of
one of the most important railroads passing through
Lincoln he knew precisely the place Waterman occu-
pied in the business life of the community.
Again Samuel said yes, smiling.
178 Gov oF MIGHT
Mr. Isham was wondering about the immigration
from Samuel’s country. Was it large? It might not
be amiss for his company to give attention to the
matter.
Samuel, however, could not enlighten him. He had
no idea what the immigration from Russia was like.
His interests had for years centered entirely in Amer-
ica, in Lincoln.
The superintendent saw Waterman to the door.
They shook hands cordially.
ITT.
At home Aunt Alvina was waiting for him.
The Watermans occupied a house within two streets
from Miss Dey’s home and Miss Dey would run in two
or three times daily to see her niece. When on the
Square she never failed to lock in on Samuel at the
store. It gave her a thrill every time she came into
the place. The stack of bills and correspondence, the
stenographer in an adjoining room, the man keeping
books—it was all so much like what she was once
accustomed to dream. But it was no dream, it was a
reality, and she was glad for Jessie. -Her fondness for
Samuel, too, was increasing day by day. It was as-
suming an intimate character, as ‘if she were a blood
relation of his. Samuel reciprocated this fondness in
precisely that spirit. Since the ban put on him by his
aunt in Chicago, which made it impossible for him to
enter Uncle Jacob’s house, especially, Miss Dey had
THE ROLL-CALL 179
come to stand out for him as family . . . It was as if
she were his relative rather than Jessie’s.
Repeatedly he and Jessie had requested her to come
and live with them and repeatedly Miss Dey declined
the request on the ground that she would not know
what to do without her tape, thimble and sewing ma-
chine . . . At her age, she argued, it was good to keep
busy, otherwise one was apt to become fussy and dis-
agreeable. Ve
Nevertheless she was more lenient with herself since
Jessie married. She no longer worked with that ten-
sion which had characterized her formerly. She was
turning away work instead of inviting it. The changed
position of her niece had greatly propped her feeling
of security ...
Tonight, however, Aunt Alvina was not in her usual
humor. Samuel was about to tell her of the trip to
the country, to speak of Jessie, when she anticipated
him with an unexpected question: Had he seen the
evening paper?
He had not. He seldom looked at the Lincoln paper
before bedtime, and sometimes he would not look at
it till breakfast the next morning. Miss Dey handed
him her copy.
On the front page was the story about the peddler.
The incident of the finding of the stolen goods and the
man’s arrest were related in much the same spirit as
Judge Arvold had given it to Samuel. In fact it was
from Judge Arvold’s court that the newspaper had
obtained the account. Attached to the item about the
180 Gop oF MIGHT
peddler’s arrest was a description of the growing He-
brew colony in Lincoln with a mention of their occu-
pations. They were the men who came around to your
back door to buy rags and metals. They led a sort of
gypsy-like life and squatted early and late in their
barns sorting and packing these materials and shipping
them to Chicago, where there were factories buying
the stuff and paying money for it.
The appearance of these men was given by the
writer. Most of them wore spade-like beards which
they never shaved, this being contrary to the Hebrew
religion. ‘The clothes they wore were shabby and
ill-fitting. Most of them were unable to speak English
and had a frightened, calamitous look about them.
Miss Dey had for some months been giving away
the sweepings from her dressmaking establishment to
one such peddler regularly. She never knew that the
man was a Jew.
“‘Isn’t there anything you can do for the man, Sam?”
she asked after Samuel had perused the account. ‘‘We
don’t want to let a Hebrew go to prison here.”
A veiled irritation seemed to be lurking behind her
words, an inflection Samuel had never before noted
in Aunt Alvina’s voice. He looked at her before an-
swering.
“Everything that could be done has been done al-
ready,” he finally explained. He told of Judge Arvold’s
visit to him that afternoon, of his cwn visit to Mr.
Isham. ‘The man would probably be released that
evening.
THe Rovrt-Cans 181
After hearing about Jessie, the place, the accom-
modations she got at Angels’ Camp, Miss Dey left
with a none too successfully screened abruptness and
with a hurried, preoccupied air. Her wonted tran-
quillity was gone and there was no mistaking her im-
patience to get to where she would be by herself, alone
with her thoughts.
IV.
When she was gone Samuel stood in the middle of
the room and, puzzled, thought over the situa-
tion. He felt like a little boy who had just been ad-
ministered a reprimand by his teacher ... After
some time he went upstairs and to bed, but he was
not falling asleep. The events of the afternoon and
evening were keeping him awake. These events were
defining themselves in his thoughts; they assumed
sequence.
Yes, there was sequence to these events: Judge
Arvold’s coming to iim with the story of the peddler’s
unhappy plight, and his intercession for the man whom
he did not know and had not seen, but solely because
he was a Jew—there was sequence to it... The
episode was a link in a distinctly familiar chain...
Things had preceded it—things would follow it...
Yes, things would follow.
Dim, at first, but clearer and clearer as the night
wore on, the incident with the peddler was crystalliz-
ing in Samuel’s mind into something that was like a
page from an old, old book . . . It was a roll-call, the
182 Gop oF MIGHT
dreaded, age-old, roll-call of his race . . . Ever so fre-
quently, in the past, the roll of his people had been
called. In one country, in another, it was: ‘Jews
will stand up and be counted.”
It had now been called in Lincoln . . . The episode
with the peddler was a roll-call and he, Samuel, had
answered it ... He had answered it as one of the
race, and it would be so entered . . . No doubt, it
would . . . He would be classed henceforward with
his race first and with the world afterwards .. .
Yes, he would be the Jew first and the man after-
wards...
And his plans had been otherwise . . . He had laid
such a different foundation . . . His plans—his mar-
riage . . . He had aimed to simplify his life . . . But
he was not simplifying it . . . He was not at all sim-
plifying it—not atall...
CHAPTER XV.
LOCUST FIELD.
i
N the next three days Samuel felt much after the
fashion of a patient, who seems quite well during
the day, but who takes a sudden turn for the worse
as soon as night sets in . . . He was to go to Chicago
the following week in connection with plans for adding
several new departments to the store, and he and Mr.
Guenther were at work on these plans. The days
were busy and fairly content. Evenings, however,
found him depressed and gloomy.
Aunt Alvina was coming to the house regularly after
supper. She would listen to what word he had had
that day from Angels’ Camp, from Jessie, look in on
the maid in the kitchen, and give orders for the meals
next day. In Jessie’s absence Miss Dey was acting
as housekeeper and was solicitous about Samuel’s com-
fort.
She smiled and chatted once again with her accus-
tomed lightness. None the less there was a vague
undercurrent of restraint in her voice. In her man-
ner, too, Samuel discerned a faint embarrassment as
183
aK
184 Gop oF MIGHT
if there were something unsaid, unexplained between
them that was craving for speech, for utterance .. .
Neither of them brought up the subject of the He-
brew peddler. Samuel, however, could not escape an
awareness that the incident had raised a sudden bar-
rier between them and that silence about it was not
the end of the matter...
He had heard nothing further about the incident.
The morning following his visit to Mr. Isham, the
Lincoln Sentinel contained a small item saying that
the Hebrew, who was under arrest in connection with
thefts from the railroad company’s warehouse, had
been released. The police and the railroad officials
found the man to be innocent. Nothing was said
about Waterman’s interceding for the peddler with
the railroad company’s superintendent. The matter
was closed as far as he, Samuel, was concerned.
Nevertheless he decided to visit Locust Field. If
there was a colony of his countrymen in Lincoin he
should know something about it. He was going to
drive out that way, but changed his mind; he would
walk over.
Two evenings in succession he had started, but each
time switched off in a different direction. He was not
clear in his mind as to the purpose of his going there
and it seemed to him that it ought to have a purpose.
. . . On the third evening he dropped ali speculations
and went to Locust Field.
Locust FIELD 185
II.
Locust Field was a marshy stretch on the west side
of Lincoln running close to the railroad tracks. It
had a half dozen odds and ends of streets. They were
not paved and there were no sidewalks except what
each resident chose to lay in order to facilitate the
approach to his house on rainy days.
In the small, hunched dwellings lived street cleaners,
railroad workers, watchmen. There were several
boarding houses in the district which were noted for
the drinking that was done in them. Two or three
times a year, when a robbery had occurred, or the
railroad company’s warehouses had been broken open,
the police would come down to Locust Field to inter-
view certain of its residents.
Samuel had lingered on the way and by the time
he reached the settlement back of the railroad tracks
the sun had already set. He had not been in the vicin-
ity in years and was looking over the place and the
people curiously. He passed one street, another; they
were short streets. He entered a third.
A heap of scrap iron, twelve or fifteen feet high,
rose from one of the yards. In the twilight haze it
had a fanciful look like a distant pyramid . . . Sam-
uel drew nearer and gazed before him at the house,
the yard which was cluttered up with the broken
frames of old mowers and reapers.
A man came sidling out of the barn—an unmistak-
able ghetto figure with a spacious black beard...
186 Gop oF MIGHT
The man locked the door behind him, tried the lock
twice. Next he walked over to the wagon and fum-
bled in it, covering things with an old canvas.
Seemingly the man did not live in the house ad-
joining the barn for he came out of the yard and
walked up the street. Samuel followed. At a turning
he came upon a block of eight or ten houses. Here
every yard contained a pyramid-like heap of old iron
like the one he had just left.
He walked to the end of the block and crossed to
the other side of the street. Several Jews were stand-
ing on the wooden sidewalk, talking. He caught
snatches of their conversation. It was about a letter
one of them had received from the Old World...
According to their speech the people hailed from the
Same region or even district in the pale with Samuel.
Some of them might conceivably have known his
father, or, at any rate, his brother-in-law, the
taDDh
Samuel explored one or two other streets. Were
there no Jewish families, Jewish women, children?
Apparently not. The uncouth, shabby men, fresh
from the ghetto, who were pioneering here were all
there was to the little Jewish colony in Lincoln. Their
wives and children were in the Old World.
He turned back. The group of his countrymen
on the sidewalk now numbered seven or eight. There
were two or three younger men in the crowd. They
were beardless, shaved. The little gathering was still
discussing the letter from the Old World.
Locust FIELD 187
Samuel stopped scarcely half a dozen feet away. He
saw the faces of the men and they saw his, but no
one took any notice of him. He was not of them in
appearance and they did not recognize in him one of
their race. They went on talking undisturbed .. .
Samuel lingered in the neighborhood till darkness
swallowed up the houses, the people and the pyramid-
like stacks of old iron. Then he turned toward home.
He walked slowly trying to unravel his thoughts, his
feelings ...
III.
On waking the next morning his mood was one of
jubilance, like that of a boy on the last day of school.
It was Saturday; that evening he would see Jessie.
He was in ecstasy.
It seemed to him that merely seeing Jessie would
efface everything; the gloom of the past four days or
rather nights; the undefined tension which had arisen
between himself and Aunt Alvina; the irritation which
the recollection of Judge Arvold’s visit to his office
continued to incite.
It was the busiest day of the week in the store and
he was in demand constantly in one part of the build-
ing, in another. Samuel moved about in flashes. Wher-
ever he appeared the clerks behind the counters
seemed as if electrified. The day’s sultry heat was
forgotten and their wilted bodies braced and stiffened
in response to the leashed tension in his features.
Jessie was not out of his mind for an instant. Be-
188 Gov oF MiIcHT
tween jumps Samuel played with the thought of her;
how he would look for her out of the train window
(she would be standing on the platform waiting for
him); how they would meet, embrace . . . It seemed
to him that he had learned much about Jessie in the
five days they had been separated, and he had learned
even more about love. He had learned so much about
love and play. :
Yes, play . . . He must cease to be the Jew—he
laughed inwardly—he must cease this everlasting
analyzing, brooding, tormenting himself over little
things, nothings . . . Life was there to be lived and
not to be put under a glass like a butterfly for study
and observation ... He must learn to take life as
the people about him did—lightly, playfully ...
Yes, he must learn to live in the present and not be
forever digging into the ruins of the past, or pulling
down the veils from the castles of the future ... He
had been brooding, speculating out of all proportion
in these last few days . .. That must end... The
one unpardonable vice of his race was just this: it did
not know how to play .. .
As always, when in the heat of work, in the press
of excitement, philosophic thoughts surged through his
brain: Maxims from the Ethics of the Fathers, texts
from the prophets, from the Talmud—all supporting
his resolutions to stop this quibbling, this magnifying
every incident that was unfavorable to him into a
mountain . . . He had magnified the incidents of the
last few days out of all proportion . . . His loneliness
Locust FIELD 189
probably had something to do with his state of mind,
his longing for Jessie: It was the first time they were
separated for longer than a day since they were mar-
ried. Well, this loneliness was at an end. In a few
hours he would see Jessie.
The train for Angels’ Camp was leaving at 6:10.
His grip was at the store; he had taken it from home
at noon. Every time he ran into the office he would
cast a glance at the grip as if they, the grip and him-
self, had a confidence between them, as if this brought
the hour of departure nearer.
A little before five Aunt Alvina came.
Samuel caught sight of her as she stood in the door-
way of his office surveying the store. The noise and
hum was deafening; the closing hour was approaching.
Miss Dey was listening to this noise with absorption,
as if trying to distinguish its various components.
Such rush and activity had always fascinated her; it
was like water to a thirsty person. She drank it in.
Samuel joined her at the office.
Aunt Alvina was solicitous about his journey: Did
he have everything he wanted, everything Jessie had
asked for? She was assured; he had taken every-
thing. They sat chatting for some minutes about the
ride, about Jessie . . . Aunt Alvina’s eyes were rest-
ing softly upon him. The expression of the last few
days was apparently gone from them and the old inti-
macy had returned .. . It was as if she, too, had
shaken off the doubts of the past few days. Samuel’s
heart leaped up in him for joy...
190 Gov oF MIGHT
He was wanted on the floor and excused himself. He
stayed away for a quarter of an hour and when he
came back Miss Dey rose.
She had no more than left the office when Horace
Grant bounced in. A new bank was going up in Lin-
coln. Ray Stevens was organizing it. It was still a
matter of the strictést confidence, but he, Horace, had
learned of it from Mr. McKay, the cashier at the
Ridlon Bank with whom he was working, and he came
down post haste to get in touch with Mr. Stevens and
try to get in with the new bank right from the start.
Horace outlined all this to his brother-in-law in
one gulp as they stood there in the middle of the
office.
“Tt is the chance of a lifetime, Sam,” he pleaded,
‘and you must help me land it. It would mean every-
thing for me to get in with the new bank, to get in
right, on the ground floor, so to speak.”
Samuel was gazing at his brother-in-law in surprise.
Horace was a changed man. He had never known
him to talk with such enthusiasm, with so much fire.
. . . But he could not pursue his thoughts further.
There was not more than half an hour till train time.
“Look here,” Samuel interrupted him, “we can talk
these things on the train. I have my grip with me and
you'll probably need a collar or something . . . Bet-
ter run home and get it.”
“T think,’ Samuel took another look at the clock,
“vou’d better go to the depot straight from the house.
We may miss the train if you try to come back here.”
CHAPTER XVI.
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER,
T.
S the train approached Angels’ Camp Samuel
caught sight of Jessie standing on the platform,
her wistful gaze eager, strained. About a dozen pas-
sengers in all alighted and Samuel and Horace were
among the last. When Jessie finally caught a glimpse
of her husband a sudden melting came into her fea-
tures ...In the next instant she recognized her
brother following and quickly braced herself...
Horace was welcome, but he would have been more
welcome had he come a week or even a day later.
The brief separation had been as eventful to Jessie as
it was to Samuel and she had planned on having him
all to herself that evening and the next day. There
was so much she wanted to say to him zow, so much
that concerned them both very deeply, vitally ...
The three had supper together and then they strolled
slowly up and down the road. Horace was speaking
of the bank and of his plans for connecting up with
it. These plans, it seemed, were largely dependent on
what attitude his brother-in-law would take toward
19I
102 Gop oF MIGHT
the bank, whether Samuel would or would not give
the new bank his business.
“T happen to know,” Horace was saying, “that Mr.
Stevens will in the next few days approach a number
of influential business men in Lincoln and will try to
get them to give the new bank their accounts. I
happen to know, also, that you are among the first
Mr. Stevens will approach and I wanted to make sure
that you would give him your co-operation . . . I have
in fact—” Horace hesitated for some moments, ‘“‘prom-
ised Mr. McKay that you would do so.”
Mr. McKay, his immediate superior in Ridlon, Hor-
ace further explained would be one of the officers of
the new bank. If Samuel would make himself agree-
able to Mr. Stevens, he, Horace, was practically as-
sured of a position.
Samuel tried hard to appear sympathetic. Never-
theless he could not hide his uneasiness. He knew
Mr. Stevens and the others who were going into the
new bank. It was safe enough. But he had dealt
with the Bank of Lincoln ever since—well ever since
the beginning . . . Throughout his career the bank,
its officials, had been nice to him and helpful—always.
. . . It was not a pleasant thing to do, to transfer his
business elsewhere . . . And it was not a fair thing.
. . . Jessie seemed less aware of what her brother
was saying than of the manner in which Horace was
saying it, the quivering animation in his voice. There
was only one thing that could explain this change in
her brother—love. Horace was in love. Ordinarily
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER 193
she would have proceeded at once to worm out—if
it needed worming out—the secret from him; who the
girl was and where and when it all happened? On
another occasion it would have given her no end of
pleasure to do all this, but not now, not tonight.
Tonight she was poignantly aware that Samuel was
with her after what had seemed an interminable ab-
sence, but that there was still a barrier between them
and that that barrier was her brother. From time
to time, as they strolled and Horace talked, she sought
Samuel’s hand, slid her fingers into it and the
barrier between them seemed broken and contact
established.
Jessie and Samuel reached their room close to eleven
o’clock.
It was a large corner room with four windows, “the
best room in the house” as Samuel had ordered, and
it was filled with moonlight. Two of the windows
looked out upon a lake, while the other two looked
up toward a mountain with a dark pine forest.
Directly the door was shut behind them and before
Samuel had had time to strike a match, Jessie put
her arms about him and lifting her face up to his they
were drinking each other in with their lips. He half
walked with her, half carried her across the room, to
the sofa. Clinging to one another, they sank down
upon it.
They were studying each other’s face and eyes in-
tently in the pale moonlight, as if either or both had
been through a long and perilous journey.
104 Gop oF MIGHT
ns been so worried about you,” she was mutter-
ing, ‘‘so worried.”
He clasped her closer and she yielded herself up to
his caresses. It was some time before either of them
spoke again. Finally she freed herself from his em-
brace and sat up.
“Sam,” Jessie asked, “is your father a rabbi?”
“No,” he said, “why?”
An expression half amused, half curious came into
his face.
“Tt is your sister’s husband then who is the rabbi?”
she gently ignored his question.
“Ves,” he said, ‘“my brother-in-law. But why do
you ask?” The glint of amusement had left his eyes.
A heavy silence hung between them for some mo-
ments. Jessie finally broke it.
“Tt was foolish,” she spoke haltingly, “but I have
been worrying in the last few days about—your fam-
ily ... The thought of religion ever coming between
Samuel rose with great suddenness and walked over
to the table. He struck a match and in the lamplight
surveyed his wife hastily as if trying to make sure of
something ... Yes, it was Jessie, his Jessie...
Nothing ahout her had changed . . . A tiredness had
suddenly come over him and he settled down into a
chair—heavily.
Jessie came up quickly and sat on the arm of the
chair beside him. He took her hand and fondled it
speechlessly for some moments.
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER 195
“What—has put this—into your head?” he spoke
brokenly yet quickly. ‘This—about religion, I mean.
Who talked to you about it?” Jessie was biting her
lips in embarrassment.
“Who put this into your head?” Samuel repeated.
His voice, in spite of his effort at self-control, had a
harsh sound and the words had rolled out of his mouth
with an unmistakably foreign inflection. Always when
he grew excited this foreign inflection would come
back. Samuel colored deeply, but insisted none the
less. Who had put these things about religion into her
head? He would know, he had to know.
1B i
The matter which had set Jessie ruminating about
the difference in religion between herself and her hus-
band had come to her through one of the maids in the
hotel, May. It was a song May had been singing.
May hailed from Milwaukee, where she had been em-
ployed in the bottling department of a large brewery,
but had taken the position of a maid at the Blossom
Inn for the summer as a lark. The particular song
was the latest out and she was humming it from morn-
ing till night.
Samuel insisted that Jessie outline to him the con-
tents of the song. She did.
It was about a Jewish girl who had fallen in love
outside her faith. The girl in the song was reminded,
pleaded with: She was a “rabbi’s daughter” and “such
she must remain.” She must renounce her love for
196 Gov oF MIGHT
the “Christian boy.” It was a love that would go
unhallowed, it could not be sanctioned. She must
pluck it from her breast; there was no alternative.
The Jewish law was stern. And—
00m
“Tf you a Christian marry,
Your father’s heart ’twould break.’’
In the last couplet the girl was dying. She had
renounced her love as her religion had dictated, but
her life was going also.
“Ts this all?’’ Samuel asked.
It was not all. Jessie had talked with the maid
about Milwaukee, about the Jews there. The maid
had told her an incident—a pathetic incident.
“What was the incident?” Samuel pursued, relent-
less toward himself, toward Jessie.
The incident was this:
A Jewish boy—in Milwaukee—had fallen in love
with a Christian girl, married her secretly and then
sent a friend to break the news to his orthodox
father. The father sent back word to the son that
he would disclaim him if he did not divorce his Chris-
tian wife. The boy declined to let religion interfere
with his marriage and the father disowned him. More,
the old man declared his son to be dead and prayed
and mourned for him as for one departed . . . After
a month of this, the father suddenly passed away.
He had grieved himself to death over his son’s mar-
riage.
“Ts this all mow?” Samuel asked again.
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER 107
This was all.
Jessie stepped up to the mirror and began taking
her hair down. Samuel’s frame had slumped deeper
into the chair.
“Pay no attention to these things,” he said after
a silence, ‘‘it’s all nonsense.”
“You mean it isn’t true?” she asked turning her
face to him.
“Oh, it may be true enough,” he replied without
meeting her eyes, “but it is all nonsense none the
less.”
Jessie slipped into a kimono, reflected an instant,
and walked across the room to the open window.
The light from the lamp reached her but dimly.
She was looking out upon the lake. The moon had
cut a wide swath across it and the waters lay gently
trembling and glistening like an armored coat. Be-
yond the lake in the distance were dim outlines of
farm houses, barns, windmills. A cool breeze was
blowing. Jessie was breathing it in. Samuel came
up and stood beside her.
“Shall we sit up a while yet?” she suggested.
He brought her a chair and himself sat down on
the edge of the window sill. They were both looking
out upon the lake. The noises coming from the water,
the grass, the trees, served to intensify the stillness of
the night.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Jessie turned her eyes full of
rapture upon Samuel.
“Ves,” he answered meditatively.
198 Gop oF MIGHT
More than her previous questions about religion,
about the Jews, this enraptured remark about the
panorama outside their window intensified to Samuel
the difference of race between Jessie and himself, and
his fascination for her because of this difference .. .
How she loved nature—the things of nature... A
field, a tree, a brodk—and she was happy... A
beautiful sunset, a gold rimmed horizon in the west
thrilled and delighted Jessie, as if it were a gift which
nature had intended primarily for her.
Nature ... That was something his race, his
people, huddled for centuries in the ghettos of the
Old World and denied the privilege of living on the
soil, had no understanding for, had even come to look
askance at, as if the laws of nature, like man’s laws,
too, were not functioning for all alike...
To Jessie nature was like a mother to come to when
worried or distraught ... She was depressed now
She was troubled. He, Samuel, must dissi-
pate her troubles ... He must not let any mis-
understanding take root between them. He must
never allow it—not between them... Between
them there should be harmony ... He must speak
to her, he would speak ...
But Jessie anticipated him.
“Sam,” she said, her face permeated with tender-
ness, “your father—would he grieve—as that man did
in Milwaukee—if he knew you married a Christian
girl?”
Samuel felt as if a precious vase he was guarding
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER 199,
had been knocked out of his hands and was lying on
the floor in a thousand fragments ... The frag-
ments were his thoughts, his words, the wise convinc-
ing words he was preparing to utter to Jessie to assure
her, to comfort her...
He did not speak; he was in a daze.
“Would he?” Jessie repeated gently, ‘‘would your
father grieve like that?”
Samuel made a move as if to rise and go, but Jessie
put her hand upon his arm. |
“Come,” she pleaded, “don’t be angry... It
concerns me—much, and I want to know.”
There was no way out and he answered.
“T suppose he would grieve—if he knew. But he
will never know.”
“Suppose your father came to know?”
“How can he? He is in Europe. He will never
come here.”
“But suppose he did?” Jessie persisted. ‘Suppose
somebody wrote him—your aunt in Chicago, for in-
stance? You said once your uncle was reasonable, but
that she—she was dead against us . . . Suppose your
father did come to know that I am not Jewish?”
A sullen look came into his eyes.
“Well, then he would know,’ Samuel replied. “It
could not make any difference to us here... And
we cannot all be alike, think alike.”
He rose. This time Jessie interposed no objection
and he walked over to the bed and sat down on it.
After a lapse of some moments Jessie came up and
200 Gop oF MIGHT
sat down beside him. She put her hand on his
shoulder.
“Sam, dear,” her voice faltered and the words stuck
in her throat as if they had become dilated, spongy.
“Sam—I—I would just as soon—join your church—
if this peule make aes more agreeable to your
family
He opened his monty as if to speak, but she seized
his arm and pleaded:
“Let me finish: I’ve been wanting to tell you this
all week. I was going to write this to you yesterday
—the day before ... I would just as soon join your
church ... Iam not attached to any particular de-
nomination; none of us are... Father raised us in
a free sort of belief: God—kindness—justice ... He
was very broadminded, father was... He never
took the miracles in the New Testament literally, al-
though he had even lost a school once on account of
his disbelief in these things... But he never
wavered in his ideas .. .”
Samuel’s eyes were hot and dry ... There was a
bursting in his head, a crashing ... Shells were
breaking open and their contents spilled...
Thoughts, memories, doubts were oozing out of these
shells, oozing everywhere ... Judge Arvold’s visit
to his office—his pilgrimage to Locust Field—Aunt
Alvina ... And now Jessie—Jessie running from
herself, running to his church for ease of mind—
What did it mean?—Where would it end? ...
A hysterical laugh was welling up from his chest,
A RABBI’S DAUGHTER 201
welling into his throat . . . He choked it down with
an effort ... Controlled himself...
He fumbled for his watch, found it...
“Tessie,” he said weakly, “it is midnight. Don’t
let us start talking religion now. We'll never get a
wink of sleep if we do V5
TIT.
A strand of hair falling from Jessie’s shoulder upon
his neck woke him. Samuel opened his eyes and
they confronted those of Jessie. Supporting herself
on one arm she was gazing at him fondly, tenderly as
a mother might gaze upon the face of a sleeping
childs...
He sat up and looked about as if trying to recall
something.
“Been up long?” he asked.
No, just a little while.”
Through the open windows came the scent of the
warm earth. Samuel was gazing across the room
toward the mountain-side with its pine trees, each ris-
ing higher than the preceding. The tree tops glisten-
ing with dew looked like children whose heads had
been freshly washed and combed... Samuel
thought of his own head. The inside of it, too, felt
as if it had undergone a renovating process during
the hours of sleep ... The pain and heaviness of
the night before were gone... And Jessie?
She was lying down, resting. There was repose
in her face, eyes—that repose of body and spirit
202 Gop oF MIGHT
which was distinctly not of his, Samuel’s people, which
only a race that was at home on this earth, that
always had been at home in the world, could possess
. . . It was the repose that only Gentiles knew . .
It was this repose, this feeling that she had an
inalienable place in the world, which no one could
claim, no one dispute—this feeling which had been
with Jessie since her birth, which had been in the
blood of her people long before she was born, and
which he, Samuel, had only lately been trying to ac-
quire—that had drawn him toward her from the
moment they first met. This look of repose had held
him in fascination since .. . It was fascinating him
now...
She had offered to become one of his race ... He
would never permit it... No... No... No
He would not deprive her of that mental and
physical tranquillity, which centuries of free, dignified
living had instilled in her blood . . . She should not
be made to taste the chill and bitterness of exile—Jew-
ish exile . . . Sheshould not knowit ... His child
should not know it...
She was smiling now. The frown left Samuel’s
face and his head dropped beside her on the pillow
He gathered her in his arms and pressed her
to himself until he could not distinguish the beating
of her heart from his own ... Their breathing had
become one; he could not tell her apart from himself.
CHAPTER XVII.
FORGIVENESS.
Tj
HE last week in September a letter came bearing
Jacob Gold’s return address on the envelope,
but the handwriting was not that of his uncle. The
letter was from his little cousin, Bessie, Gold’s young-
est daughter. Father had been ill, she wrote, but was
better now, and he wished Samuel to call on them when
he next came to Chicago. Ske was writing, she ex-
plained, because it was before the holidays and father,
in particular, was very busy...
“Before the holidays?” Oh yes, Samuel recalled.
It was the month of the Hebrew New Year and of
the Day of Atonement ... New Year... Day of
Atonement ... It was the traditional “season of
forgiveness” among his people, the season when fam-
ily feuds and differences were adjusted and old hates
were not allowed to be carried over into the New
Year ... Did this perchance have anything to do
with his uncle’s writing?
Samuel reflected .. . He had been to Chicago the
week before and had not planned to go there again
203
204 Gop oF MIGHT
for some time. He changed his plan now. He would
go the next morning,
“Hello,” Samuel called out with a peculiar uncer-
tainty as he stood in the entrance to his uncle’s store.
He let the door come to slowly, while gathering a quick
impression of the place. Things were in disarray.
His uncle was not in the accustomed spot behind the
counter; his aunt stood there.
Mrs. Gold answered his greeting with an indis-
tinguishable mumble and lowered eyes. Before Samuel
could cross over to her and extend his hand, she started
away in the direction of their living rooms, shutting the
door behind her.
Samuel was deathly pale. He sat down, but rose
again after a moment and stood shifting his weight
from one foot to the other.
It was some little time before the door opened again
and his uncle shuffled into the store.
Jacob Gold had been lying down and before enter-
ing had dabbed his face and eyes with cold water, and
had combed his rapidly whitening hair and beard.
There was no vigor in his handclasp, despite his evi-
dent delight at seeing Samuel again... He mur-
mured something about taking a nap. To Samuel it
was plain, however, that it was not a nap his uncle
was taking—he was slowly becoming an invalid...
Jacob Gold’s features were drawn with pain, which his
smile could not hide. His head and shoulders seemed
to be straining forward, as if in an effort to break
FORGIVENESS 205
loose from the inward weight that was pulling, dragging
ae them 2) 2),
Samuel did not seem to know what to do with his
eyes. They were stark with horror and refused to
yield, if not to calmness, at least to discretion .. .
“You are looking—fine,” his uncle was saying, and
Samuel somehow gained the impression that the oppo-
site was true: that he was not looking at all well and
that this was precisely what his uncle had noticed
about him.
“And at home—is everything well at home?” Jacob
Gold pursued, aware of his nephew’s discomfiture, but
pretending to see nothing, understand nothing .. .
“Ves, all was well—quite,” Samuel finally managed
to bring out a few words.
They were alone in the store; Aunt Minna had
stayed behind in the living room. Jacob cast his eyes
about as if in search of something and then suggested
“the park.” There was a tiny square in the neighbor-
hood with trees and grass. He and Samuel had been
over that way before. Hadn’t they better go down
to the park for a little while? The afterncon was so
warm.
Samuel nodded affirmatively and Jacob Gold dis-
appeared again in the living room. He emerged a few
moments later with coat and cane.
In the park both were at ease and Samuel learned
many things. In the first place about his uncle’s
health. Jacob Gold was no longer attempting to mask
his condition, as if it were best for Samuel to know
206 Gop oF’ MIcHT
the truth ... Yes, he was just getting over a par-
ticularly bad spell of illness . .. And altogether he
was not getting on well... His heart was bad;
there was a leak there and it was irremediable. The
only thing to do, according to the doctor, was to throw
off ballast constantly ... This he was doing. He
was working little and resting much—taking to his
bed any time he felt a bit taxed ... The work in
the store was now resting almost entirely upon Aunt
Minna’s shoulders...
Samuel inquired about his father and again his
uncle spoke to him with a frankness which he had
hitherto never permitted himself. No, he had not
heard from Samuel’s father directly. Indirectly, how-
ever, he had heard. From some of their countrymen
who had arrived from the Old World recently, Gold
had learned that David had become almost a part of
his daughter’s family. Not expecting ever to see
America and half way surmising that his son, living
among Gentiles, had strayed far afield from the ortho-
doxy in which he had been brought up, Samuel’s
father had seemed to resign himself to the inevitable
David in fact was refraining from making too
close inquiries about the New World and what Samuel
was doing there for fear that he might learn of things
he would rather not know...
“Your father seems to have reached a kind of com-
promise with his conscience, with his faith,’ Jacob
Gold said. ‘Perhaps it is just as well... All life
is a compromise—that of the Jew in particular...
FORGIVENESS 207
To live the Jew must make sacrifices ... This had
always been true... .”
There was a strange penetration in Gold’s gaze
as he was speaking. Samuel appeared to himself
as a book—a book in which his uncle was turn-
ing the pages ...Some of the pages his uncle
turned over hastily. Over others he delayed,
lingered...
Gold was asking about Jessie: their life together.
There was a hush in his voice as if he had suddenly
entered a sick room ... Was Jessie well? he asked.
And did Samuel perchance carry a photograph of his
wife with him, a picture?
He did.
Samuel had several snapshots of Jessie in his pocket
and produced them.
Jacob took the photographs with nervous fingers and
was regarding them thoughtfully .. .
“Do you mind—if I keep one?” Gold’s voice was
faintly tremulous.
He could keep one, of course. He singled out a
print that showed Jessie’s features most clearly. Put-
ting the print away carefully among some papers in
an inside pocket, Gold continued to examine the re-
maining photographs appraisingly, as if he were try-
ing to reconstruct the person, her mind, her character
from the fleeting impressions registered on the square
pieces of glazed paper.
The mission of their journey to the little park
seemed fulfilled. It was time to return. They rose.
208 Gov oF MIGHT
Gold walked slowly, stopping several times for a brief
rest.
Aunt Minna left the store the moment the two en-
tered, going into the living room.
“T’ll go in and talk to her,” Samuel said without
looking at his uncle.
“Tf—you like,” Gold answered with a gesture of
resignation.
IT.
Mrs. Gold was seated near the dining room table,
fumbling in her work basket.
“So you are really angry at me?” Samuel asked,
coming within a few feet of her.
Mrs. Gold looked up at him for an instant and then
her gaze lost itself in the work basket once more.
“No, why should I be?” she replied with a sarcastic
laugh, “no-o-o!”
“Why should one be angry at him?” she continued,
as if she were addressing not Samuel but a third party.
“What has he done? A mere trifle, a bagatelle! He
has just gone—and become an apostate—that’s
BAL) bee?
“T have not become an apostate,” Samuel’s face
flushed a deep red. ‘‘I have done nothing of the sort.
I have not renounced my religion, I have not denied
my people ... No one has asked me to renounce
anything.”
“‘No-o,” Mrs. Gold’s voice was cold and metallic.
“He has not renounced anything .. .”
FORGIVENESS 209
“T have not renounced anything,” Samuel repeated
firmly.
His aunt looked up at him, her eyes blazing.
‘“‘And what about children—aren’t you going to have
children?”
“We are,” he answered.
“And will you raise them—as Jews—with a Chris-
tian mother?”
“T shall raise them as men—as men and women,”
Samuel measured his words.
“As men and women?” Mrs. Gold repeated after
him with a harsh sneer.
“Ves, as men and women,” Samuel was uttering his
words slowly. He had rehearsed this little speech often
enough in his thoughts and was not going to lose any
of its effect in the process of delivering it. “This is a
free country. We all believe in one God, Jew and
Christian alike, and there is no compulsion to join one
denomination or another .. .”
“That is more of your uncle’s talk,” Mrs. Gold in-
dicated with her head in the direction of the store.
“Did you ever see men and women in this world—
yet? ... I have lived close on to fifty years and I
have not seen them. I have met Jews, Christians,
Mohammedans—but I have not met just men and
women ... You are dreaming just as your uncle has
been dreaming all his life—all his life... In his
case I was there to see at least that no harm came
from his dreaming, while in your case i
“God, Oh God,” she took her head between her
210 Gop oF MIGHT
hands and began to sway to and fro, her frame con-
vulsed with sobbing .. .
“How could you?” She looked up at Samuel with
streaming eyes, her words coming between gulps.
“How could you—do this—to us—to your mother? ...
Your mother, your father... ’Twere different if
they hadn’t brought you up properly, if they had been
nobodies . . . But you were raised so well—they had
raised you so well... You were not a common,
thoughtless boy . . . On the contrary you were edu-
cated, well educated in the Talmud, in the law...
Your parents had taken such pains with you—had
brought you up in piety ... Your mother will find
no rest in her grave.”
There was no defying his aunt’s tears—her twitch-
ing distorted face and mouth ... He spoke plead-
ingly: His mother would have wanted him to be
happy ... She would have wanted him to marry the
woman he loved . . . Surely Aunt Minna ought to be
able to understand such things... Love...
Happiness ... This was not like Russia—it was
America ... Religion was a matter between one’s
self and one’s conscience. The law did not interfere
in such matters .
“Love, happiness,” Mrs. Gold was wiping her tears
with the end of her apron. “Of course I have under-
standing for such things—but not with a Chris-
Raa lie
“YT knew it would come to this,’” she was moaning
dry-eyed a minute later. “I knew no good would
FORGIVENESS 211
come from letting you live alone with Christians for
eight, for ten years ... I warned your uncle re-
peatedly to call you back to the city... But he
wouldn’t listen to me . . . He wanted you to be dif-
ferent, he said ... Well you are different all right
enough ... You certainly are not a Jew any longer
I don’t care what you have or have not re-
nounced, but you are not a Jew—with a Christian
wife, with children to grow up uncircumcised, Chris-
tian x
Nevertheless when Samuel extended his hand to her
on parting she took it. He bade his uncle a hasty good-
by as if he had already overstayed his time and must
rush’...
ITI.
The train was half an hour late and it was nearly
midnight when Samuel reached home, but Jessie was
awake, waiting for him. The table was set and she
went into the kitchen to prepare a light lunch while
Samuel was washing. As he was finishing his coffee
and had lighted a cigarette Jessie observed that the
trip seemed to have wearied him more than usual.
Samuel muttered something about the weather: the
day had been very warm in Chicago. It did not es-
cape Jessie, however, that his weariness seemed not
so much of the body as of the mind.
“Ts your—your uncle—well?” she asked circum-
spectly.
Any reference to family, especially his family, she
212 Gop oF MIcHT
had noticed, was setting Samuel on edge of late. In-
deed even now he looked about with the air of one
expecting some calamity to break over him momen-
tarily.
His uncle? Yes, his uncle was well—that is, con-
sidering
He described briefly the state of Jacob Gold’s
health. He did not mention Mrs. Gold and said not
a word about the interview he had had with her.
But Jessie divined that there was an interview between —
them ... In her own mind she even surmised what
the nature of the interview had been... Samuel’s
complete enervation was not for nothing...
She urged a brief rest after his meal before retiring
and they stepped into the sitting room... Jessie
sank into a settee and Samuel sat down beside her.
She took hold of his hands and put her face between
them.
Both were silent. She lifted up her head to him,
smiling. He drew her to himself.
Her frame was united with his in one consuming
embrace. She was breathing against him. The fire
of his kisses seemed to be dissolving her as a mist,
carrying her to the clouds. She came back to earth
again with a deep sigh.
“What is it?” he asked.
“T have been thinking,” she said, “what a beautiful
world it would be—if there were only us two in it—
just you and I.”
“T guess it will be just you and I, Jessie,” he said
FORGIVENESS 213
with an attempt at a laugh. “It looks as though it
might be you and I—against the whole world . . .”
Jessie sat bolt upright.
“Tf it is to be you and I against the whole world,”
she said firmly, “then that’s all there is to it. We'll
face the world.”
He took her in his arms once more.
“Brave girl,” he said in a voice that was mixture of
jest and sadness, ‘‘you don’t know what you have
undertaken. We Jews are a sorry lot We are
such a troubled, unhappy race 2? |
But Jessie’s mood for seriousness was already gone.
“Guess what I have been reading tonight,” she said,
as she proceeded to muss up his hair.
Samuel could not guess.
“Give up,” she said in child fashion, “then Ill tell
you. I have been reading in the Old Testament—the
story of Ruth 3
“The story of Ruth?”
Vas,”
“And——”’ Samuel waited.
“And,” she repeated, pushing her face roughly
against his, “if I were not married to you I would run
off and become a Jewess .. .”
BOOK FIVE: CLOSING GATES.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A TENANT.
I.
ROM behind the glass partition in his office
Samuel was gazing out upon the people in the
store and listening to the hum of their voices . .
In the dim recesses of his brain figures—twos and
threes and fives and nines—were flashing, twinkling,
like lanterns trying to convey a signal from far off...
He was aware of their message... It was a big
day at the store. In fact it promised to be one of
the big business days of the year, although Christmas
was still a month off, and the holiday season was just
beginning ... The figures doing acrobatic stunts in
the depths of his mind represented the probable volume
of business the store was likely to do before night.
It was a most gratifying total. Two or three seasons
earlier Samuel would have thrilled at the vision of
these figures—would have thrilled at his success . . .
His satisfaction with these figures now was not with-
out an undercurrent of futility ...
It was Saturday afternoon and the out of town
trade, people from the farms and nearby villages, pre-
217
218 Gop oF MIGHT
dominated. ‘They were German, Irish, Norwegian,
Swiss. Most of them showed traces of the country of
their origin in looks and speech. Some still had diffi-
culty in making themselves understood in the English
language. Nevertheless there was an air of stability
about them, of security ... They were all becoming
firmly rooted in the new earth ... Each and every
one of them seemed to regard the land of his adoption
as a sort of co-operative enterprise in which he was,
after a fashion, a stockholder, a rightful, if not equal
partner .
Formerly Samuel had shared this feeling of pro-
prietorship in America along with all these newcomers
.. But for some time now that feeling had been
slipping from him—slipping .. .
There were periods, lasting sometimes only a few
minutes and then again extending over days and
nights, when Samuel, in spite of all efforts to do so,
could not shake off a sense of being a tenant—merely
a tenant... The others, the Germans, the Norwe-
gians, the Irish were owners, while he was more like
a lessee, who is given temporary possession of things
only . .. His wealth, his labor, all that he had built,
was built upon somebody else’s earth and he might
be told any time to pick up and go, to make room for
others, claiming greater rights...
Between him and the people about him, to his dis-
may, old spectres were coming to life again and un-
expected chasms were arising ... Even his home
was not free from these chasms ... In fact it was
A TENANT 219
in his home that these chasms were finding their
source ...
it.
With the birth of little Grant—they named their
first-born after Jessie’s father, Charles Grant—a cer-
tain awkwardness had come into Samuel’s life. Dif-
ferences the existence of which he had scarcely been
aware of were forcing themselves to the surface—
were becoming marked. Sundays, in particular, had be-
come a problem.
Prior to the arrival of the infant Sunday fener
had been a joy to them. He and Jessie would spend
them together. In the first months after their mar-
riage, in the spring and summer, they would rise
early and go riding into the country or about the
lake. Later, when the doctor cautioned Jessie not to
fatigue herself, they spent their Sunday forenoons at
home, sleeping late and resting about the house.
Little Grant made no distinction between Sunday
morning and any other morning. He woke and de-
manded attention at the usual hour. Seven o’clock
would find Samuel out of bed. Jessie would be up a
trifle later. She was completely engrossed in the in-
fant and had no time for anyone or anything else.
Samuel now found the entire Sunday forenoon on his
hands—and the thing had become uncomfortable, and
even painful.
With the coming of the child Miss Dey had made
an end of her dressmaking and had come to live with
220 Gop oF MIGHT
them. Jessie was relieved and grateful: Aunt Alvina
was running the house from the kitchen to the nursery.
But Samuel, though he had been as insistent about
Aunt Alvina’s coming as Jessie, was less at ease. Miss
Dey had introduced a new atmosphere into the house
——an atmosphere that had been foreign to it hitherto.
There was nothing definite Samuel could set out
against this atmosphere. There was nothing deleteri-
ous about it. It was a home, a family atmosphere,
nothing more... Nevertheless Samuel could not
escape a feeling of being at a disadvantage in it, of
being worsted by this new atmosphere. There was
something dominantly aggressive about it . . . Jessie,
he imagined, would feel the way he did if zs mother
had been alive and had come to have a say in the
running of their household. There were times, par-
ticularly on the forenoons of Sundays and holidays,
when he had come to feel himself like a stranger, an
outsider, in his own home...
On such mornings Aunt Alvina and, under her in-
fluence, Jessie were living in a world in which he,
Samuel, had never been initiated, and there seemed
no possibility of his becoming a part of this world,
in the manner in which Horace, for example, was a
part of it. Their conversation ran differently on such
occasions. They employed turns of speech which were
new and unfamiliar to him. He had never heard them
before . . . Or if he had, it was in that misty period
of his life before he came to America, and in another
language ...
A TENANT 227
Between him and Aunt Alvina a peculiar relation-
ship had arisen. They were on cordial terms during
the week. On Sunday mornings, however, neither
seemed quite able to disguise a certain feeling of aloof-
ness from the other...
Aunt Alvina was never openly censorious of Samuel.
But on Sunday morning, her gaze and manner con-
veyed a certain silent and firm disapprobation such
as is reserved for those who grow thoughtless of the
canons of good taste... Samuel got the distinct
impression that he was somehow in the wrong place,
doing the wrong thing; that no matter how exemplary
his conduct as a man might be during the week, as a
husband and the head of a family on Sunday morn-
ing, Aunt Alvina considered him a complete disappoint-
ment ... Months passed...
One Sunday morning Miss Dey found him in the
parlor, engrossed in a stack of store correspondence,
and could not keep back a taunt: Sunday was no time
for a man to be about with a weekday mind...
She smiled not unkindly, as if trying to send these
words on their mission with as little sting as possible.
To Samuel, however, they were like the lash of a
ENOUGH. YS),
She had laid bare his most vulnerable spot. In a
flash she had disclosed the root of all his awkwardness
on Sunday ... He had himself been groping in that
direction, been discerning it dimly ... There could
be no more groping now. It was clear—the issue be-
tween him and his household, between him and the
222 Gop oF MIGHT
rest of Lincoln, was unmistakable . .. Whether she
was aware of it or not, Aunt Alvina had made it clear.
She had torn the veil with one rent...
A weekday mind... That was at the base of
difference between them. A weekday mind—on Sun-
days ... Physically, in dress and appearance, he
had approximated his townspeople, his Christian
neighbors, he was one of them. Spiritually, however,
he and they had remained on different planes .. .
He had adopted the Christian Sunday as a matter
of convenience, of external conformity, as he had
adopted many other American, Christian, ways and
customs ... But he had no spiritual attachment,
no exalted feeling, for Sunday, beyond the fact that it
was a day of rest. Monday, Wednesday, any other
day in the week would have suited him equally well
as a day of rest, had the people about him chosen to
make a holiday of that day.
It was not so with the other inhabitants of Lincoln.
It was not so with Aunt Alvina It was not so with
Jessie—not even with Jessie. To them the day had
a spiritual significance. To them Sunday was Sab-
bath. It was a day hallowed by time, by tradition,
memory ... It had been their Sabbath, the sabbath
of their parents, for centuries, for a thousand years,
or longer .. . To them Sunday was a day bound up
with sentiment, with beauty, with a loftiness of
SPITIC Yt),
Sunday had the same significance for Jessie, for
Aunt Alvina, for the people of Lincoln that Saturday
A TENANT 223
—his Sabbath, the Jewish Sabbath, which America
had swept into oblivion—had had for him in his child-
hood in the Old World ...
The plain matter of fact was—and as the weeks
and months went by the thought was coming to rest
upon him with increasing melancholy and weight—
that he had been swayed by visions rather than by
facts. He had let his imagination, his dreams run
away with him... He had entirely misapprehended
the influence of the church in the lives of the people
about him... He had underestimated the force of
centuries of habit and tradition in their lives. The in-
fluence of the church was everywhere—even in his
own home—yes, in his own home... It was a
Christian home ... Everything about their life, his
life, Jessie’s life, the child’s life, was regulated in
accord with Christian canons, with Church ethics ...
Jessie was not conscious of this; it was in her
blood ...
He was meditating over these things one Sunday
morning nearly a year after the birth of little Grant,
when a memory of the side entrance to his store flashed
across his mind ... And he wondered how this had
failed to occur to him sooner ... It was a very un-
obtrusive entrance. His coming and going would
scarcely be noticed. A splendid place to get away
to now and then Sunday mornings. He rose quickly
and putting on his coat and hat left the house .. .
People were already on their way to church...
They were going in families and singly, on foot and in
224 Gop oF MIGHT
buggies ... Boys and girls were going. Children
were carrying their Sunday School texts. Several
people recognized him. They nodded. There was a
festive spirit in the greeting, different than on week
days...
The churchgoers were becoming numerous. ‘There
seemed to be no end of people who knew him, greeted
him. At the nearest crossing he turned off into a side
street and continued his walk to the store at a swifter
pace, as if bound on a pressing errand...
CHAPTER XIX.
THE BIG CHURCH.
I.
HEY named the second child, a girl, after his
mother, Sarah. Samuel was vaguely conscious
that in naming his children after the dead he was fol-
lowing an old and distinctly Hebrew custom...
From the moment he first saw the infant daughter
he was reminded of his mother and he wanted her
named Sarah...
The birth of Sarah coincided with the announce-
ment of Horace’s engagement.
Horace had been doing very well in his position
with the new bank, the Commercial National Bank
of Lincoln, and there seemed to be no question of his
future with the institution. He had been with the
bank from the day it first opened-—there was a vague
rumor that he had even been helpful to the bank
before it was opened ... At any rate the cashier,
Mr. McKay, was a friend of his and the president,
Mr. Ray Stevens, was known to be favorably disposed
toward young Grant. Several of the older men at the
bank, with years of experience behind them, were be-
gining to look up to Horace with a certain deference.
225
226 Gop oF MIGHT
There was no telling when he might be jumped over
a dozen heads and be made their superior .. .
The “young lady,” as the local newspapers stated
in their announcements, to whom Horace Grant was
becoming engaged, was Gertude Allen of Ridlon,
where Mr. Grant had formerly held a position at the
bank. The young lady’s father was a well known
merchant in that town while Miss Allen was active
in church work, and was a promgnent member of the
Epworth League.
Shortly after the engagement was announced her
father visited Lincoln on a matter of business. He
spent the better part of an afternoon with Samuel
at the store and was enthusiastic. He had heard about
the Waterman department store from Horace, but
what he saw exceeded all his expectations. His store
at Ridlon, which Mr. Allen had always considered a
model of up-to-dateness and enterprise, by compari-
son appeared frontier-like and primitive indeed, and
he freely admitted it.
He was asked to stay over a day and take Sunday
dinner with them. There was a train leaving for
Ridlon at six o’clock Sunday evening which would
bring Mr. Allen home in good time for a night’s rest
and business the next day. He agreed to this ar-
rangement.
There was a great to-do at the Waterman home
that Sunday morning. Aunt Alvina and the maid were
continually busy in the kitchen and Jessie, when not
looking after the child, was coming to the aid now of
Tue Bic CHURCH 227
one, now of the other. Aunt Alvina and Jessie were all
Horace had in the way of family and they meant to
show Horace and themselves to ie best advantage in
Mr. Allen’s eyes.
A little before ten Horace came to the house.
There was a troubled look in his face of which Samuel
had instantly become aware.
“Ts anything the matter?” he asked.
There was nothing the matter, Horace answered.
He tried to appear casual, but could not hide his
embarrassment over the fact that Samuel had read his
face... At the first opportunity Horace disap-
peared in the kitchen in search of Aunt Alvina.
Samuel did not go to the store that morning as he
was wont to do on other Sunday mornings. Instead
he repaired to the parlor, picked up an almanac, which
he had received a day or two earlier, and was looking
it through.
It was here Jessie found him half an hour
later.
She too seemed embarrassed, as embarrassed as
Horace had been a while earlier. She stood in the
room without knowing what to do, or say.
“What has happened?” Samuel asked apprehen-
sively.
A premonition of something unpleasant that was
about to occur was upon him. Jessie grasped the back
of a chair for support. It was hard to maintain her
self-control under her husband’s gaze. She never
could say things half-way to him... Samuel was
228 Gop OF MIGHT
so insistent on having everything completely out...
She pulled herself together finally.
“Horace was in a few minutes ago,” she began.
“He is kind of worried ... Mr. Allen, you know, is
a Methodist, and a strong churchman ... It would
—well, it might sort of put him out, if we sat down to
dinner without a blessing .. .”
Samuel, who had stood up while his wife was speak-
ing, now sought the back of the nearest chair. He
half opened his mouth as if he had suddenly been de-
prived of his wind... A blessing before meals—of
course ... In the Old World no orthodox Jew went
to table without a blessing—his father never did, he
never did ... He knew the blessing before meals—
in Hebrew, but Mr. Allen was a Christian... A
blessing
What was the Christian blessing like? Samuel was
half asking, half wondering. |
“Why,” Jessie spoke up more firmly, “Horace and
Aunt Alvina think it would be best—that is, nicest if
you just called on Mr. Allen for the blessing .. .”
“Call on Mr. Allen for the blessing?” Samuel
moistened his lips. He felt like a child who is con-
fronted with a lie he had told.
“Why yes,” Jessie’s voice was almost cheerful now;
she was over the hardest part of the road. “Just call
on him for the blessing.”
Samuel was gazing far away. Jessie waited.
‘Just how do I do this,—what am I to say to Mr.
Allen?”
THE Bic CHURCH 229
Samuel tried to smile. He was, however, aware
that it was a ludicrous situation and that he was play-
ing a sorry part in it. His features had become dis-
torted with a grimace. |
What did one say? Jessie was not sure for an in-
stant what it was Samuel should say to Mr. Allen. A
distant memory suddenly came to her aid.
“Why,” she said, “when we are all seated at the
table, just say: ‘Mr. Allen, will you ask the blessing?’
That’s all.”
As a matter of fact the thing was simple. Mr.
Allen’s blessing was brief, scarcely more than a dozen
words. All of them listened to it with heads slightly
inclined forward. Before Samuel realized it, it was
over and they were eating and chatting pleasantly,
very pleasantly.
After dinner they adjourned to the parlor. Aunt
Alvina was in excellent spirits. Mr. Allen, Horace and
Samuel were talking about the growth of the city.
Lincoln was expanding faster than any other com-
munity in the state. Henry Allen told of his visits
to Lincoln when the place was less than a third of
its present size.
Samuel thought of his own coming to Lincoln and
about his first job with Emmerich’s. But he swal-
lowed his thoughts. He would better not speak about
these things. It might arouse too many questions,
call for too many explanations.
Jessie was called out. Little Sarah was up and it
was her feeding time. Aunt Alvina followed her some
230 Gov oF MIGHT
minutes later. The afternoon was wearing on. Hor-
ace excused himself. He would run over and make
sure about trains.
Mr. Allen and Samuel were puffing away at their
black cigars and talking business, or rather Mr. Allen
was talking business. They were getting on in years,
he and Mrs. Allen, he was saying, and they had for
some time been thinking of leaving Ridlon for a
bigger place, a city. Their married children were all
living elsewhere, and now that Gertrude and Horace
were to settle in Lincoln, the city might not be a bad
place for them to come to live in. ,
Mr. Allen was gazing out of the window as if trying
to make sure of something. Some distance down the
street was a church that was newly finished. He com-
mented on it and on the fact that there were some
really fine churches in Lincoln. Horace had taken
him to one that morning. It was a beautiful edifice
and the service was gratifying indeed. The sermon
had been excellent.
As Mr. Allen went off into a reverie about the ser-
vice, Samuel suddenly found himself gripped by an
old, old pain... He knew what the next, inevitable
question would be... He saw it coming... It
would be about his faith . . . And he would not shift
or shuffle—it was the one thing he would not evade nor
disguise...
The question came the next time Mr. Allen opened
his mouth to speak. He had resumed his ramblings
about religion and, in the manner of one confident
THE Bic CHURCH 231
of an affirmative and satisfying reply, he asked what
church Mr. Waterman attended.
Samuel wavered an instant. The question was di-
rect and his answer would be fully as direct and
definite. But he was looking for a way—the most
concordant manner—of giving that answer. There
was a strong attachment between Jessie and her
brother, and Horace and Mr. Allen would soon be
of one family. He would avoid any straining of rela-
tions with Mr. Allen—if it could possibly be done. . .
With a wave of his hand, as if to include all nature,
Samuel said something about attending the Big Church.
It was unfortunate. Mr. Allen knew a follower of
Robert Ingersoll in Ridlon who always spoke of at-
tending the big church. It was in fact from another
follower of Robert Ingersoll in Lincoln that Samuel
first heard the phrase.
After some hesitation Mr. Allen came back to it.
He was not ordinarily inquisitive about other people’s
religious views, but in this case the thing seemed war-
ranted and he persisted: What church had Mr. Water-
man been brought up in?
The vague smile disappeared from Samuel’s face.
He was born and reared in the Hebrew faith, he
said,
“T am a Hebrew,” he declared, a grave dignity com-
ing into his voice and manner. He was thinking of
the phrase in the original Hebrew and recalling the
place in the Bible whence it came. It was in the Book
of Jonah. That was what the prophet in his great
232 Gop oF MIGHT
distress had answered the mariners: Jvrz onoikhi—
I ama Hebrew...
“Oh,” Mr. Allen exclaimed.
Waterman’s explanation had put the entire mat-
ter in a different light. He was not an atheist. That
was a distinct relief to Mr. Allen. As for Samuel’s
being a Hebrew, it was an unexpected situation and
Mr. Allen was totally unprepared for it.
They had reached the end of their cigars and
Samuel passed the box around once more, which was
very convenient for both of them. Mr. Allen lighted
a new cigar and was absorbed in the study of its
quality. He was not selling quite as good a cigar in
his own store at Ridlon—there was no demand for it.
They were starting to talk store again when Horace
came in with Miss Dey. Jessie followed some moments
later. She brought little Grant with her. The child
had had his afternoon nap and seemed quite pleased
with the world. He smiled at his father and asked
to be taken.
For some time the child occupied the center of the
stage, then Horace reminded them that it was nearly
five. They had a walk to the hotel yet and Mr. Allen
rose.
Miss Dey went for his clothes and they all followed
him into the hall. The parting was friendly.
II.
In the evening, after the children had been put to
bed, Samuel went up into the nursery and gazed at
THE Bic CHURCH 233
their sleeping faces. The contrast between them
had been engaging him ever since the birth of the
little girl.
Little Grant’s blond head and chubby face always
set him wondering. He wondered how he happened to
have such a son. Jessie claimed that the child looked
every bit like her father. Aunt Alvina saw in little
Grant the veritable image of Horace. So did Horace
himself and affected great partiality for the young-
ster ... Samuel, however, when he came up the
walk to his house at noon or in the evening and saw
little Grant playing in the yard, never could overcome
a momentary sensation that the child belonged in the
next house or the one after that and had strayed into
his yard by accident ... Little Grant combined in
his temper and make-up all the traits of the country
and of the people about him, but seemed to have noth-
ing of him, of his father .. .
“Here I am,” the little round face and stub nose
seemed to say, “this is my world and I will take no
nonsense from anyone.”
His infant daughter aroused in him altogether dif-
ferent feelings. There was something about the tiny
face that stirred slumbering memories and set him
dreaming. It was as if with the coming of the child
a part of his old self, which he thought dead, returned
0 eae
When baby Sarah opened her eyes and Samuel
gazed into them he invariably recalled the river Nie-
men. His home would rise vividly before him, the
234 Gop oF MIcuHT
joys and sorrows of his childhood ... Melodies his
mother sang to him when he was a youngster came
back and seemed to float in the air. He never could
bring himself to sing these old songs in a foreign
tongue to little Grant, but baby Sarah would listen
to them attentively, as if his sad crooning were not
altogether strange to her.
One morning as he was holding the child in his
arms, he caught himself softly chanting a part of the
prayer for the Day of Atonement. Little Sarah was
listening to the Hebrew words and to the melody of
more than two thousand years, and it seemed to him
that there was something knowing, familiar in her
BYES TION
Jessie found him in the dimly lighted room standing
beside the sleeping infant, as if in a trance. She came
up beside him.
There was a mellow fragrance about her person.
She had grown more luxuriant with the two childbirths,
and there was an added softness in her features. The
contemplation in her eyes had grown deeper, more
profound, as if her husband and children were giving
her something to think about.
As always, Jessie’s nearness stirred Samuel to ten-
derness. He put his arm about her shoulders and she
swayed toward him, her body resting against his side.
“T am glad it’s over,” she said, as she pushed back
his hair and was gazing at the sharp curves of his
temples.
THE Bic CHURCH 235
“Over?” Samuel asked. He was not clear what she
had reference to.
“{ mean the dinner to Mr. Allen—the whole af-
fair,” Jessie explained.
Samuel regarded his wife thoughtfully. It wasn’t
over ... Nothing was over... The conversation
with Mr. Allen that afternoon was not the end, but
rather a beginning . .. He would hear from it...
There would come in its wake unpleasantness, pain...
He was about to tell all this and more to Jessie, but
swallowed the impulse . . . Speech had of late some-
how lost the capacity to clear things up... On the
contrary it seemed to be involving him more and
more every time, complicating matters for him...
He said nothing . .
In June Horace and Gertrude were married ...
III.
Gertrude had brought a letter from her home church
in Ridlon. She presented it in Lincoln when she and
Horace had returned from their honeymoon, and at a
bound found herself in the vortex of the activities
of her church.
Her talent as a pianist was quickly recognized. She
was playing for the choir and with the church quar-
tet. She was made a member of the committee on
church charities and, though not teaching, she was
enrolled on the Sunday school staff for what assistance
she could give in the training of the youngsters for
Children’s Day and other entertainments.
236 Gop oF MIGHT
Horace, who had never had any religious affiliations
or preferences, as a matter of course joined his wife’s
church. They were also members of the Epworth
League,.and before the end of two months Horace had
been made secretary-treasurer of the organization.
The Methodist Church was just then entering on a
nation-wide campaign for funds, with which to sup-
port its foreign missions. Gertrude threw herself
heart and soul into the work and Horace, because of
his familiarity with finance, served as the local treas-
urer of the fund all through the campaign.
Gertrude, who had been one of the most popular
girls in Ridlon, was fast acquiring a wide circle of
acquaintances in Lincoln. At church socials or sup-
pers people always flocked around her, glad to note
and be noted. With such a charming wife Horace
should go far, according to the consensus of opinion.
There was no question but that Gertrude was mak-
ing a splendid wife for Horace. Aunt Alvina, Jessie,
Samuel—all agreed on that. Her accomplishments no
doubt would aid him in his career ... If only her
friendships were not in every case the outgrowth of
her church activities and church affiliations ...
Not that Gertrude’s devotion to her church work
was that of the spiritual zealot. At bottom it was
more social than religious ... Only—if she spoke
less of it at the Waterman home... As it was, a \
feeling of uneasiness pervaded Jessie and even Aunt
Alvina every time Horace and Gertrude came to din-
ner, a feeling such as one has when starting out on
THE Bic CHURCH AY
a picnic with a threatening sky overhead ... Sam-
uel frequently rose from the table on such occasions
with a troubled air...
Horace was too absorbed in his young bride to
notice the painful silences with which Gertrude’s en-
thusiastic recounting of her church plans and pro-
grams was received—or perhaps he was getting
used to it. Jessie several times thought of mentioning
the matter to her brother. At the last moment, how-
ever, she would invariably shrink from such a
course. . . |
The question of her husband’s religion was becom-
ing a susceptible spot with Jessie... She never
dreamed that Samuel’s want of church affiliations
could enter so vitally into their existence... To
speak to Horace and have him, in turn, speak of the
matter to his wife, would but serve to emphasize the
differences between Samuel and themselves, to draw
Gertrude’s attention to them... Jessie preferred
that her sister-in-law absorb these things herself .. .
Aunt Alvina reached a similar conclusion .. .
As for Samuel, his point of view, in its essentials,
was not different from that of his wife and Aunt
Alvina. It would serve him poorly to force an issue
between himself and Jessie’s family ...
IV.
Despite his promising start at the bank, despite,
too, his wife’s social talents, which were making him
many friends, Horace was not moved up in his posi-
238 Gov oF MIGHT
tion as fast as was expected. They had no child.
Winter came, the third since Horace and Gertrude
were married.
There was scarcely an evening now when Horace
did not come up to play with his sister’s children, par-
ticularly with little Grant, who, as he grew older, was
beginning to show a close resemblance to his uncle .. .
Even on such nights. when he accompanied Gertrude
to a church musicale or some other affair, Horace
would manage to snatch a few minutes for the
youngster.
Horace had an inexhaustible fund of stories about
Indians and cowboys, about deeds of daring and of
danger, which his father, the schoolmaster, had either
read or told him as a child. These stories little Grant
was now devouring eagerly. Horace had bought his
nephew an Indian suit and a feathered headgear. He
was bringing him books with pictures of Indian tepees
and so close was the bond between the child and
Horace becoming in consequence that there were times
when little Grant seemed to waver in his affections
between his father and his uncle .. .
Now and then Samuel thought of this...
It seemed to him that there was something he
should do in the matter . . . Horace was taking from
the child’s affections something that should be his,
Samuel’s, his alone. He should take action—action
to tie his little son closer to himself. They were not
as near, little Grant and himself, as he and his father
had been ... He must take action... Yes...
THE Bic CHURCH 239,
But the more Samuel brooded over this, the more
his own shortcomings as a father—a father to an
American son—came into relief ... Here, as else-
where, his foreign birth and ghetto bringing up were
putting him at a disadvantage ... The two, uncle
and nephew, had their American childhood in com-
mon: Horace only recently grown out of it, while
Grant was just growing into it... In later years it
might be different ... Later he and his grown son
might find common ground to stand on... In the
meantime—perhaps Jessie’s brother, with his Indian
stories and his cowboy thrills, was the better equipped
companion of the two for little Grant . . . Perhaps
Horace was merely supplementing to little Grant the
things which he, Samuel, could not give hisson .. .
Ve
One evening, in March, Horace suggested that Grant
was now old enough to go to Sunday school. Ger-
trude mentioned that she knew Mr. Bellamy, the Sun-
day school superintendent of their church, very well.
Neither Aunt Alvina nor Jessie spoke up. Samuel was
about to speak, but before he framed his thoughts,
Horace began to elaborate:
Whatever church Grant *might choose ultimately,
when he was a man, it could not be amiss if he started
out by being regular in such matters.
As he said this Horace was conscious that he was
repeating a phrase that his father-in-law, Henry Allen,
had used the last time he visited them . . . Samuel,
240 Gop oF MIGHT
too, recognized it as something Henry Allen had said.
So did Jessie and Aunt Alvina. It was so unlike Hor-
ace to put things that way...
Grant started Sunday school immediately after Eas-
ter. Neither Jessie nor Aunt Alvina went to church
and the child was going and coming with Uncle Hor-
ace and Aunt Gertrude...
It was very strange...
CHAPTER XX.
FATHER OF MERCIES!
I.
HE day is done . . . The gates of heaven are
CLOSING cpm CLOSING 3 20u2? )
Samuel woke in a panic. He had been dreaming.
... He sat up. Jessie was asleep beside him and he
heard her measured, even breathing. He left the bed,
got into his bathrobe without disturbing her sleep,
and stepped over to the window. He raised the shade
and a flood of cool night air smote his face and chest.
He drew the robe closer about him and looked out. . .
It was autumn ... He had read in the paper just
before retiring that the following evening the Day of
Atonement would be ushered in . . . Jews the world
over would fast and pray from sunset till nightfall of
the next day...
The street was still. It was one o’clock in the morn-
ing. In the sky the stars were coldly twinkling. He
could not see the moon, but its light lay upon the tree
tops and upon the roofs of the houses across the
WAM ees
“The gates of heaven are closing . . . The day is
done < ,.°.”
241
242 Gop oF MicHT
There was a strange pounding in his temples and a
gnawing sensation about his heart ...A space of
thirty-odd years rolled off his shoulders as if by a
magic hand, and he was a child again—a very small
boy ... It was the Day of Atonement—the first Day
of Atonement he had any memory of—and he was
in the synagogue beside his father. (Peace to his
memory) ... The day was drawing to a close. The
sun was Setting and its golden rays streamed in weakly
through the stained glass windows...
The men in prayer shawls were swaying back and
forth in their seats. They had been in the synagogue
since daybreak ... Throughout the morning and
until the midafternoon they prayed loud and fervently.
At times their voices became vociferous. In the late
afternoon the service had become more moderate, as if
in response to the waning strength of the people who
were limp with hunger . . . It consisted chiefly of
silent prayer and meditation .. .
Then, as the ball of fire in the west began to de-
scend toward the horizon, something unexpected hap-
pened. Both the service and the people had become
as if galvanized. Everyone in the synagogue assumed
a standing posture and with eyes lifted skyward a cry
went up from a thousand throats: a cry of fervent,
passionate entreaty, like people pleading for their life.
. . . Hands were lifted, bodies trembled, faces were
distorted with agony...
He, little Samuel, had turned white and looked up
to his father in alarm.
FATHER OF MERCIES! 243
David, his face very pale from the prolonged fast,
answered the child’s questioning gaze . . . It was no
ordinary answer . . . His father was paraphrasing the
text of the prayer from the sacred Hebrew into their
everyday tongue...
It was the “closing” prayer, David half spoke, half
chanted. The congregation was making a last appeal.
. . . Lhey were pleading for the whole of Israel...
They were crying: ‘“The day is done, the gates of
heaven are closing ... Father of Mercies, hear
IS eit |
The magic hand had disappeared . . . The years
came back...
Samuel breathed deeply of the cool night air...
Yes, it was fall...
He pulled down the shade and went back tobed ...
ba
The panicky feeling with which Samuel woke dur-
ing the night left him fleetingly at breakfast: Jes-
sie was there radiating a serene calm. But it came
back later in the day, and it recurred to him again
and again in the weeks and months that followed.
Frequently, toward evening, when the sun had set
and the long, wintry night was descending upon the
town, a sensation as of closing would come over him.
. . . Gates were closing—not of heaven, but of the
earth . . . It seemed to him that he had been cast off,
the whole world had cast him off...
Thanksgiving Day came and went. Christmas and
244 Gop oF MIGHT
the New Year were in the atmosphere. People were
drawing together, each to his kind...
There were holiday doings at his home, but he was
not consulted with regard to them. He was informed
of events only after they had been determined on.
There was apparently nothing significant in this. He
was such a busy man, particularly during the holiday
season, that it seemed a kindness not to disturb him
with trifling, domestic details . . . It was a plausible
enough view and Samuel tried to take it whole...
But there were other disturbing signs.
The people of his town were coming to have certain
views regarding him which, while they had no basis
in fact, were given plausibility, Samuel had to admit,
by the undercurrent of isolation that was running
through his life . . . They conceded his honesty—all
did that . . . He was scrupulous and paid his help
well. They granted his ability, his success...
But business, they seemed to think, was the end
of his horizon—he saw no further than money...
Even those who stood closest to him were not above
thinking him thus . . . He had never shown any other
side of himself to them. As far as they were able
to see he had only business, money interests in com-
mon with them—nothing else...
Occasionally the word seine was coupled with an-
other word—Jew ...
Two or three of the leading merchants in town,
who had formerly been more or less clubby with him,
had of late grown distant...
FATHER OF MERCIES! 245
People did not seem to know what his intentions
had been and there was no way to explain him-
self .. . Even at home it was hard to explain...
With the exception of Jessie, his inability to cut the
thread which united him with his past was coming
to be looked upon as a perverse obstinacy . . . Ger-
man Lutherans became Congregationalists and Meth-
odists; other immigrants knew how to harmonize their
Old World religious views with those prevalent in the
New. Why not he?
But hardest of all it was to explain things to him-
self ... Yes, to himself . . . His life had become a
web of contradictions .. .
Il,
Winter passed and spring came. The sun’s depart-
ure was more lingering and in the late afternoon his
office would now fill with mellow, golden light...
Frequently on such afternoons Samuel thought of
Hisitather?.,..
David was dead; he died in the Old World—died in
peace ... His son-in-law, the rabbi, had delivered
the burial discourse, the Hesped, before the open
grave ... The entire community had turned out to
his father’s funeral, so his sister had written .. .
His father was dead and it was too late to offer a
due apology, or to pay him a deserved tribute .. .
There was no essential difference between them,
though he, Samuel, had lived all these years in the
belief that there was ... They had both faced the
246 Gov oF MIGHT
same problem—he and his father . . . All of David’s
existence turned about the question of his race...
All of his, Samuel’s, existence, was revolving about the
same question .. . As for the solution of the ques-
tion—was he any nearer to a solution than his father
had been? ... Was he?
An intense abstraction had settled upon him...
CHAPTER XXI.
TIES OF BLOOD.
I.
. . . He was not the only one who had ventured out
on this new course ... Other Jews had intermar-
ried: in the middle west and elsewhere in America .. .
He knew the names of three or four such Jews in his
own state . . . They had children . . . Others of his
race were united to their Christian surroundings, with
the Christian people about them, by ties of love, by
ties of blood...
Had they arranged their lives more successfully and
with greater dignity than he had arranged his? Were
there no “problems” in their case? ... Were they
hanpyeriva:)
It would perhaps clear things for him, might even
give his whole life a new turn, if he were to have a
talk with one of these Jews, a heart to heart talk ...
He was thinking of a possible means of approach
when a man belonging to the class of these others
turned up in his very office, came to his desk.
He was the new salesman for a Chicago wholesale
house with which Waterman was dealing. Stone was
his name.
247
248 Gop oF MIGHT
Theodore B. Stone—Ted Stone to the profession—
was a man of forty-seven or forty-eight. He was tall,
broad and muscular, an athletic figure. His face was
smooth shaven and he was fastidious about his dress.
His manner was one of brimming cheerfulness .. .
Ted Stone’s appearance, speech, the graying hair
about his temples, gave no indication of his lineage
and it would never have occurred to Samuel to specu-
late about the salesman’s race or ancestry. After the
second or third visit, however, Stone casually made
mention of the fact that he was a Hebrew and that
he had surmised Mr. Waterman to be of the same
origin. In equally offhand manner the salesman, sev-
eral months later, mentioned his family, the fact that
it was Christian, and that he understood Mr. Water-
man to be in a similar position .. .
There was an odd sort of look in Stone’s eyes
when he mentioned their family affiliations, as if he
and Waterman were both sharing a secret between
them, a secret about which much could be said had
either of them cared to enter into the matter more
extendedly, instead of barely mentioning it...
Thereafter Waterman’s relations with Stone were
not unlike those of two alumni, who, though years
apart, had graduated from the same school, shared the
same loyalties and followed one code...
They had become friends. The salesman “made”
Lincoln every six weeks and Samuel now frequently
awaited his coming.
Stone was born in America. His father before him
TIES oF BLOOD 249
had come from Amsterdam and Stone knew nothing
about the Russian ghetto in which Samuel’s earliest
memories were rooted. But whenever the salesman
reverted to their race, or threw a Hebrew word
into the conversation, a word which had common
meaning to both of them, Waterman could not escape
a feeling that he and the salesman had one time be-
longed to the same household...
When they were alone in Samuel’s office, facing each
other across the blue-gray wall of smoke from their
cigars, Stone would lay aside the mask of bubbling
lightness and feigned enthusiasm over nothings—the
salesman’s accessories—and they would talk seriously
of serious things...
In such moments Stone’s face and eyes cried out
his race. There was in them the intangible something
that had marked the Jew in all ages, in every land,
the dream, the cry that had marked him since the
beginning of time .
II.
It was a sultry afternoon in August . . . The har-
vest season was at its height and business was very
nearly at a standstill. Theodore Stone was sitting in
Waterman’s office. The salesman had missed the three-
fifteen express to Chicago and was now waiting for
the six-thirty train which would bring him home past
midnight.
They were talking of the city—big cities in gen-
etal’
250 Gop oF MIGHT
For some time now the thought of a big city was
lurking in the back of Samuel’s head. Chicago—and
even New York . . . On occasions these words welled
up in his mind as if in answer to the twists and per-
plexities of his life . . . If he would take Jessie and
the children and go to a large city, go where no one
knew them, their life might, perhaps, still be turned
into new channels.... The children were young
enough to grow into a new environment . . . Grant
would forget Uncle Horace and Lincoln. As for little
Sarah, there would be no trouble about her at all:
she was /is to the very roots...
Yes, a big city...
Instead, however, of going on with plans for such
a shifting of foundations, of prying his family loose
from its present moorings, he had embarked upon a
course that was the exact opposite to all such plans
and dreams. He was binding himself closer to Lin-
coln—forever perhaps...
He had bought one of the best corners on the Square
and was building. Architects and contractors had
been at work for some time on a four story, up-to-date
structure as the future home of the Waterman de-
partment store.
Why had he done this? .. .
Samuel suddenly found himself speaking of his fam-
ily—speaking in big gulps . . . He was taking Stone
into his confidence as if they had been lifelong inti-
mates . . . He described his past: The stern ortho-
doxy of his ghetto bringing up, the Old World humilia-
a i a a
TIES OF BLOOD 251
tions, persecutions .. . Then came America: The
vision of equality and justice, the vast tolerance ...
There were no heights to which his dreams would not
ascend . . . He had been dreaming of a new millen-
nium for his race, for humanity . . . America had ap-
peared to him as a new Sinai yielding new tablets to
guide the conscience of mankind . . . America had
become his faith, his religion .
But the dream had broken down somewhere...
The process of further growing together with his sur-
roundings, of becoming one with the town, with the
people of the town, had become impossible for him.
. . . This was reacting disastrously on his family, on
Jessie. It was tending to make a lonely person out
of his wife, as lonely as himself...
Stone was listening attentively, but without a
shadow of surprise, as if what Waterman was telling
him was something that was not at all unfamiliar .. .
An ironic half-smile played about his mouth, a smile
aimed at no one and at nothing in particular .. .
“Why don’t you join a church—your wife’s
church?” Stone said wearily when Waterman had fin-
ished.
“Join—a—church?r” Samuel had scarcely looked
for such a suggestion.
“Yes, why not make a clean job of it?” Stone con-
tinued in the same vein. ‘‘You have married into the
Christian world and you might as well become one
of it—a Christian .. .”
The salesman was not making sport of him. Stone’s
252 Gop oF MIGHT
face was too grimly earnest for that. Samuel did not
wish to hurt or offend the older man.
“But, you—you don’t seem to have made a clean
job of it—yourself,’ his voice was unsteady. “Vou
haven’t become a Christian . . .”
“No,” Stone said quietly, “and that is why I am
in a position to advise you. I speak from experi-
ence—”
Stone moved forward, closer toward Samuel. His
face was bloodless. He lighted a fresh cigar and,
casting a look at the door to make sure that no one
could overhear him, he continued with tempered vehe-
mence:
“Nobody bothers about your belief or unbelief—it
is conformity that people demand . . . If I had known
eighteen or even fifteen years back, when my children
were still small, what I know today, I would have gone
where nobody knew me and would have buried my
Jewish origin as deep as I could... Then it was
still time. Then I could still lose myself to the Chris-
tian world . . . I would conform—Oh, I would con-
form ... Or else— Else I would have come out with
my race openly and aggressively .. . Stuck to it.
. . . [ would have made my wife and children Jews
at any cost—at all cost . . . There is nothing more
humiliating than my position today . . . You will be
in the exact position fifteen years hence . . . Look—”
Stone produced and passed over a small photograph.
It was of his wife and two daughters. The girls
looked about eighteen and twenty years respectively —
“i
if
7
5,
4
.
ee a en
Se ee
~~ ie
> 7.
ee ue
Sa
F Tog Dy
i
+
oF .:
matte
Hee
Te.
te an
wreath.
Soe
tHe
Noe ENS AE CRESS Orne
Cie i Serer or
eran:
Pe ale eos
Neeatyeetatate
ory vow t
LP rade recs
poten +;
#2
lelen
ota tes
+
tte le
yates
* a Very Cerrar *
Cre a re Sc bees oe oe ot ee ere ae a
Hime n eee Ne hoes aon eter Ma ceraa mane e
Poa gee Sige
aaa ie
+
Hp dee
Parag
+!
$12
-
ate
*
arty
ache cae che een aie ete
Pay guaran Sissy tut esan sreadrt
(ALN rer ear Le eee
sie eH
ed ’
a ere ale ere tobierete
Cie ae bs
pi
eUptats
?
3
y
>
peaseriyis
Seth
iB es
eats
a Weesere
alee eens eit iy
rss
4.
“
cay
ieee Poe Pee aes
Seat cer}
catetat nS ;
Dahan diced BALAI) Wad ter hua ea tah Peed eal
Betts ee RAL dM tar hash et
‘
r]
’
i
ae
be he
*
>
-
rh
oe
»
"
tate
Sivterase®
We ery
aed .
SoaeOns oe ered
Te rere
corn
ze
4S
ve bh 9.
Shayne
es
a3
San2
.
aid
“Sia.
—
ara}
So
aie
aie
eo
ee et
Totes
a
*
Sg eee
Weng oie
2
fot
i
+
ir + toes m_
* Me ated otters
erat Pin sated ee att
PERL MAIC PITY
FA ME OMAP caer:
Pel errr ey ara eat 4
5
+572
tee
* ’ ae a
Deere ae rine AL a ee A CT
Che ee SEIKO OSCE ener e ris oy ae meer he
Pare Pome bern bor
Mee ge wy
636
le
ey
. 4
3 st ooh
eae be ake ‘, ‘
os Bee te
vary es were atte
* . c PCAC CN era)
ome res Me Lage
Estar e >
pads
ve
‘eet
ees (eds
ire anda se rsa ie pa
SiN ee ee ala carers
Wines eet REA Cy m.
ye
Ceror ereeirey hoe
EWN RS
APS
+
ty