CANAWAY 
 
 AND THE 
 
 LUSTIGS 
 
 JOSEPH LEISER.
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS
 
 CANAWAY AND 
 THE LUSTIGS 
 
 BY 
 
 JOSEPH LEISER 
 
 
 CINCINNATI 
 
 YOUNG ISRAEL 
 
 PUBLISHER
 
 URL'
 
 Copyright 1909 
 BY S. BACHARACH 
 
 AH rights reserved 
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 Prtti of 
 
 S. BACHARACH 
 
 Cincinnati. U.S.A.
 
 URL 
 SRLF 
 
 TO MY PARENTS 
 J. L.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter I. Tne Lustigs in C ana way - 11 
 
 II. In ScLwersenz - -37 
 
 III. Trummer - - 59 
 
 IV. ARuralPurim 76 
 V. ElijaL tke Propket 86 
 
 VI. Confirmation Day - - 98 
 
 VII. A Country CWer - - 112 
 
 " VIII. Postscript - - 130
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Tlie Seder - - - Frontispiece 
 
 Crazy Carrie 40 
 
 Moishe Stumm - - 42 
 
 Tie ScWersenz Mill 48 
 
 TLe Troutadour Jew - 70 
 
 Professor Goldstein - - 122
 
 Canaway and the 
 Lustigs 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 used to be over the entrance and along the upper 
 line of the store windows of a two-story brick building 
 on Main Street of Canaway, a large gilt and black 
 
 sign, the bright, glistening letters standing out distinctly against 
 
 a background of black. The words read: 
 
 ROCHESTER CLOTHING STORE. 
 
 This building, not an imposing structure by any means, or a 
 thing of beauty, is still standing, and may be seen on any day in 
 the year by one who chances to be in this Western New York 
 town. But the sign has changed, and the interior of the store has 
 been greatly enlarged and improved, since the owner and pro- 
 prietor, with whom we are especially concerned, carried on 
 business there. 
 
 At the time of which I write, the store was long and narrow. 
 It still conforms in the main to these dimensions. But it has been 
 so lengthened that one scarcely notices its width. In former 
 days it was about one-half of its present depth and the rear end was 
 as dark as a cellar. 
 
 In those days the store was packed with clothing. On both 
 II
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 side walls stood tiers of shelves reaching from the floor to the 
 ceiling, and in the middle of the floor ran a succession of tables. 
 There also were counters that stood a few feet away from the 
 shelves. These and the center tables made four little aisles up 
 and down which the proprietor passed as he waited on his custo- 
 mers. 
 
 On the right and left of the entrance were small show-cases 
 resting on the counters. The modem show-case, which is made 
 wholly of glass, was unknown in those days. The type of show- 
 case used in the Rochester Clothing Store may still be found in 
 the confectionery stores of country towns. It is about six feet long f 
 three feet wide and one foot high. Candy dealers in country towns 
 find it necessary to confine their sweets within this limited enclosure 
 to keep out the flies and sundry small fingers. But these show- 
 cases are no longer used in large cities, where merchants are eager 
 to display their wares. 
 
 In the Rochester Clothing Store of Canaway there were few 
 fixtures. Over the counter, on a home-made wooden frame, some 
 wires were strung, the whole device being suspended from the ceil- 
 ing. On these wires were pinned red bandanna handkerchiefs, 
 suspenders (called by the country people "galluses"), and socks, 
 usually of two colors a bright red and a light gray. The socks 
 were not of a pretty design, like those worn by the present genera- 
 tion. They were thick and as hard as cardboard, but kept the 
 feet warm, and for that reason men bought them. 
 
 Directly opposite this rack and over the counter to the right 
 of the entrance, hung another rack, on which in winter a variety 
 of hats, chiefly felt hats or woolen caps, were displayed. In sum- 
 mer all this cloth headgear was removed, and a goodly assortment 
 of straw hats hung from the rack, being mostly wide-brimmed for 
 the farmers, and more especially for the farmers' sons, who prided 
 themselves more on possessing a broad-brimmed straw hat for the 
 
 12
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 haying season than the city boys do on owning a bicycle. 
 
 On the tables, counters, and shelves, each kind in its place, 
 were coats, trousers, vests, overcoats, overalls, shirts, underwear, 
 neckties, paper collars, and linen dusters, which were made popular 
 by Horace Greeley, who, it is said, never wore any other kind of 
 coat when he could help it. 
 
 This was a country clothing store; and the goods offered for 
 sale were the sort most needed by the farmers and country people. 
 The material was good and strong, but not strictly fashionable. 
 It was worn for use and not for show. This is the general appear- 
 ance of the place, except in winter time, when, by removing one of 
 the center tables, a space was cleared for a large cylinder-shaped 
 sheet-iron stove, around which a half-dozen tottering chairs were 
 set. These chairs were like war veterans one wanted an arm, 
 another leg. Not one was sound of limb or unbandaged. AH 
 were bound in place with twine a decrepit lot of props for a parlor, 
 but very comfortable seats for a clothing store in winter, when the 
 north wind blew and the stove, roaring back defiance, threw out 
 warmth and cheer to those encircling it. 
 
 Were one to enter this store, he would be met by a man of 
 average height, who would advance slowly from whatever part of 
 the room he happened to be, and grasp the newcomer by the hand 
 cordially, and begin to talk at once about the weather, the last 
 runaway in the village, and end up his inquiries by asking, with 
 apparent deep concern, all about your family, your wife and chil- 
 dren, your father, mother, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins. 
 
 Being usually in his shirt sleeves, both in summer and in win- 
 ter, he appeared to be inclined to obesity, and so he was. His 
 arms were short and fat, and his shoulders wide apart, giving 
 ample space for the setting of his large, round head, which was 
 covered with a heavy growth of brown, curly hair. His neck and 
 that was the one feature of the man to be remembered he had no 
 
 13
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 neck. It was so short that his head appeared to rest level with his 
 shoulders. At times one might think he was deformed; but not 
 so; he was simply short, and not a stiff-necked nor obstinate man. 
 His eyes, which were dark blue, always sparkled with good cheer. 
 The color of his skin was ruddy, in spite of his indoor habits. There 
 was not a frown or a wrinkle on his low but wide forehead, nor a 
 furrow on his cheeks. Honesty and friendliness were written over 
 his open face. Light and happiness shone from his eyes. 
 
 This was Herman Lustig. 
 
 The people of Canaway and the farmers of Ontario County 
 considered Herman Lustig a prudent, trustworthy business man. 
 When he said the cloth of a coat was "all wool," his customers 
 believed him, because he never hesitated to inform a customer, if 
 he knew it was so, that a coat was not all wool. It became a pro- 
 verb among the country folks that whatever "Dutch Herman" said 
 was true. And Dutch Herman is what they called him. In other 
 words, Herman Lustig was honest in his dealings and public- 
 spirited when necessary. But he attended strictly to his own busi- 
 ness, and allowed others to do the same with theirs. So he pros- 
 pered, as all do who adhere to this policy. 
 
 But were he simply an honest clothing merchant, and nothing 
 more, I would have no occasion to introduce him here. He was 
 more than a clothing merchant, as we shall have opportunity to 
 leam before long. 
 
 Our interest in Herman Lustig arises from two facts: First, 
 he was the father of two boys, Ludwig, the older, and Gottlieb; 
 and secondly, Herman Lustig had many stories to tell his sons 
 about places he had seen and men he had known men, the like 
 of whom live only in the provincial towns of Germany. And 
 Lustig was bom and brought up in one of them, and had many 
 experiences there, which are not the lot of boys of our day and 
 country. 
 
 14
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 We are tempted to say that Herman Lustig and his sons are of 
 special interest to us because they lived in Canaway. To be born 
 or to live in Canaway is a rare good fortune to any one. And since 
 our stories are all located in this place (those who hear them and 
 he who tells them lived there), suppose we leam something about 
 Canaway. 
 
 Bear in mind that Canaway is not a manufacturing town. 
 Only two things are made there ale and bricks, two articles that 
 do not always go together. There used to be a spoke factory just 
 outside the jail limits, but the only fact of interest about the spoke 
 factory was that occasionally it burned. 
 
 Canaway is not a place of mills and factories. It is simply a 
 Western New York village, situated at the foot of Canaway Lake* 
 on the banks of which grow the most deliciously flavored grapes 
 raised in North America. Canaway Lake gives the town of Cana- 
 way its distinction. Without the lake, the town would be a bride 
 without a bridegroom. The two are inseparable. 
 
 Now, it must be remembered that the Lustigs did not make 
 Canaway famous, although certain great men make their places 
 of residences well known. "Let a man do a great deed," says 
 Emerson, "or think a great thought, and even if he lives in a forest, 
 men will come to see him." But the chief interest we have in 
 presenting Herman Lustig and his sons is due to the fact that they 
 and their mother were the only Jewish people in Canaway. 
 
 A few such people live in country towns, and to distinguish 
 them from all other kinds and classes of Jews, they are called 
 country Jews. For this reason their relatives and friends who live 
 in cities commiserate them. But there is no need to do that, even 
 if the only Jewish family dwelling in a country town enlarges the 
 Jewish population by bringing a mother-in-law, a cousin, or a 
 step-brother, or a sweetheart to live with them in that place. 
 
 Country boys have a better time during their childhood and 
 15
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 youth than city boys do, and so do girls, for that matter at leastf 
 so the country boys think, and they ought to know. A majority 
 of Jewish children in this and other countries are bom and brought 
 up in cities. They know very little of the country, and see less of 
 it than is good for them. That they have to forego many pleasures 
 is not realized until, perhaps, they make a visit to some country 
 home. But they have by that time lost freedom and lightness of 
 limb and cannot run, jump nor climb. They do not know the 
 birds and their habits, nor the names of the trees and their customs. 
 And, to be sure, birds and trees and insects, as well as grown-up 
 folks, have their habits and customs. Men have written books 
 telling us about the doings of bees and wasps, and other insects too 
 numerous to mention. And then the city-bred cannot read weath- 
 er signs in the skies, or point out a thunder-head, should one loom 
 up before them. 
 
 City boys and girls never walk far at a time. Whenever it 
 is necessary for them to go a distance, they take a street car. But 
 who can find a bird's nest while riding on a street car? or see a 
 squirrel run along a fence rail? City boys miss half the joy of life 
 because they live in steam-heated flats. But they never find 
 that out till they have grown old, when their zest for out-of-door 
 things is lost. 
 
 Country boys and girls play real live games without the inter- 
 ference of the policeman. There are no policemen in country towns. 
 The town constable, the only similar official to a policeman, is 
 usually an old man, and possibly a veteran, elected to sit in the 
 court house and tell war stories over and over again to the old 
 cronies and whoever will listen. He rarely arrests anyone, for 
 fear the culprit might happen to be an old soldier; and to imprison 
 such a man is against the rules of the jail. 
 
 A city boy learns to swim in a natatorium, if he learns at all, 
 and usually the only bath he gets is in a bath-tub. But a country 
 
 16
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 boy has an old swimming hole, somewhere in the creek, behind 
 the willows, far enough away from the watchful eyes of his parents 
 to be out of sight. There he leams how to swim, watching the 
 older boys, who act as teachers. They teach him thoroughly. 
 First they throw him in and compel the novitiate to sink or swim. 
 He never sinks, to be sure, but he cnes out in fnght. He is then 
 promptly ducked the second time, to show him that he must respect 
 his elders and not say anything babyish or unmanly. 
 
 So he leams to swim the first day he touches fresh water. 
 Diving and the other amphibian tricks of his instructors are later 
 accomplishments. The boy who can dive "head first" that is 
 the only proper way to dive is a candidate for the circus. All 
 country boys are candidates for the circus. 
 
 There are many other games and sports a country boy plays 
 that are unknown in cities. "Hunt the grey," for example a 
 game that starts early in the evening and lasts till the boys are tired 
 out. Some boy takes a club and throws it down the street. The 
 first one who gets it throws it further on, running all the while and 
 throwing it forward, till they reach the town limit. Then at the 
 first cross-road the boys begin to encircle the town. He who is 
 so ill-fated as to be chosen to find the stick or club is compelled to 
 run after his comrades, hunting the grey, as the club is called. 
 The only clue he has to the location of the stick is the distant cry 
 of his comrades, who, from time to time, shout out, "Hunt the 
 grey! hunt the grey!" On still nights the echoes of their cries 
 float over the village like the low, mournful sob of a wayfarer in 
 distress. 
 
 There is another game, less tiresome but more likely to cause 
 accident, known by the unpoetic name of "shinny." Indeed, the 
 game is well named. It is a shin-breaking game for those who 
 may be careless at it. This is how the boys of Canaway used to 
 play the game: A small block or cube of pine or hickory the 
 
 17
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 latter prefered because of its hardness was set on a flat rock, 
 equidistant from two goals. Two competent leaders, each holding 
 firmly a long stick curved at the end (the stick was a young sapling 
 that ended in a knee or knot), would strike the small block (with 
 the stick) from the plate towards his own goal at a given signal- 
 The cube would then be knocked about by several contestants 
 on the respective sides the point of the game being to knock the 
 block across the opponent's goal line. That done, a victory was 
 scored. The boys would play three, possibly five games, and 
 then disband either to eat apples or to crack hickory nuts, the 
 victors, to be sure, passing uncomplimentary remarks on the shabby 
 playing of their opponents. 
 
 The game, it is readily seen, is a crude form of our modem 
 polo, or the still more modem and aristocratic golf; but "shinny" 
 is not so expensive. Golf is the luxury of the rich, who have en- 
 closed parks and extensive lawns and club-houses, with servants, 
 keepers and the like. But "shinny" any country boy may play, 
 and be his own caddy. 
 
 This little description of country sports has no direct bearing 
 on the Lustigs or Canaway. But then we are dealing with country 
 children, and it is well to know the superior way in which they 
 amuse themselves. And since the residents of the cities are in the 
 habit of looking down pitifully, if not contemptuously, on country 
 people, it is time to remind the city dwellers that, so far as the 
 children are concerned, they had better have been bom in the 
 country, because of the greater pleasures country children enjoy. 
 
 Besides, every country boy has pet animals. His pet is usually 
 a dog. Few dogs are allowed in the city flats certainly not a 
 horse. Those who keep horses give over the care of their horses 
 to a coachman, and the boys seldom see them, because they ride 
 in closed carriages, as if they were always being driven to a funeral. 
 
 But if a country boy keeps a dog or a horse, he is certain to 
 18
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 keep chickens, and city people see chickens only inside of butcher 
 shops. A boy or girl who has never seen or heard a rooster crow 
 when the first beam of dawn gilds the rim of the east, does not 
 know how this fearless trumpeter drives solitude away from the 
 country side. Then to witness two young roosters fight for su- 
 premacy is to see a serio-comedy of poultry life. 
 
 The fun of making things what can city boys make? Some 
 of them do not know what a hammer looks like. Have they ever 
 built a dog house or a chicken coop? Do they know how to put 
 up a hut in the woods in which to hide from the Indians who still 
 roam a forest in a boy's imagination? Have any city boys built 
 a dove-cote or made a tent out of old burlap bags? Have they 
 gone berrying along country roads, or picked cherries on shares 
 from Mrs. Blodgett's cherry tree, as the boys in Canaway did? 
 They have not. 
 
 Have city boys gotten up early mornings to see a circus come 
 to town, and carried water for the elephants for an admission 
 ticket to the side-show? Oh, no. A city boy does not know 
 what mysterious freaks are to be found in a side show. The man 
 with rubber skin; the armless man, who can write his name with 
 his toes; the Albino lady, whose eyes are pink; the midget and 
 the giant; the fat women and the living skeleton; the glass blower 
 from Ballyhoo, and the snake charmer from Hindoostan are 
 not these curious more bewildering than the circus itself, with Jumbo, 
 the big elephant, and the other wild animals? A country boy 
 thinks so. 
 
 A circus is an important affair to a country boy, because every 
 circus has a clown. The boys follow after him in the parade farth- 
 er than they do the steam calliope and it is not every circus that 
 can afford a steam calliope. But every circus has a clown. He 
 always rides along in a parade, drawn by an old mule that kicks 
 every time it passes a hitching post. Every time the hind legs 
 
 19
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 of the mule go up in the air, the clown jumps up from his 
 seat; and that makes the boys laugh. 
 
 What country boy has not followed the clown (of course 
 every one could not get away from his parents to follow) but those 
 who marched behind him up and down the street watched eagerly 
 his grimaces; laughed when he laughed; talked to him as if he were 
 the only being in the world worth noticing. 
 
 I will never get through talking about the country if I keep 
 on at this rate. But let it be understood now, that Ludwjg and 
 Gottlieb never regretted that they were bom in Canaway, for al- 
 though they occasionally visited Rochester, the biggest city in the 
 world to them, and saw a real fire engine there, and a patrol wagon 
 and policeman, and big stores with more goods in one comer than 
 their father had in his entire store, and more people on one street 
 than in Canaway on a fireman's parade or circus day, still they never 
 regretted their childhood in Canaway. There was no occasion 
 for them to regret the many times they went barefoot. There was 
 no need for them to recall with a shiver the day they fell in the 
 brook when the ice broke upon the creek. Was there any disgrace 
 in picking up bones and selling them to Mr. Cornell, the phosphate 
 man, to buy firecrackers with on the Fourth of July? Not at all. 
 All this was boys' fun. All the boys in Canaway did something 
 like this. Many of them flew kites with Ludwig and Gottlieb 
 in Blanchard's pasture lot. Many a time a dozen or more boys 
 would help Mr. Mutchler drive the cattle which he bougjit at the 
 Buffalo Stock Yards from the freight cars to his abattoir on the 
 Poor House road. There were a thousand and one things Ludwig 
 and Gottlieb never forgot or felt sorry that they had seen and done. 
 
 On the contrary, Ludwig and Gottlieb remembered their 
 experiences in Canaway all their lives, and perhaps this day they 
 are telling a younger generation, bom in the city, of what country 
 boys in America used to do, just as their own father told them of 
 
 20
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 his life in Schwersenz. And because all these things happened 
 and were true, I am telling them. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb were not very old when their father 
 made known to them that they were Jewish children. In fact, 
 they were the only Jewish people in Canaway. But nobody 
 paid any attention to that matter. The boys played together the 
 Mutchler boys, Will Andrews, Charles Ashley, Charles Kleinle, 
 Art Ellis, Speedie Blanchard, Pat Meade's boys all the boys on 
 Bristol Street, Clark and Coy streets, say nothing of Main, as if 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb were no different from the other children. 
 Nobody called them names; nobody referred to their religion; and 
 nobody knew that they were Jews except for the fact that Mrs. 
 Rosalia Lustig usually sent Matzoth in Passover week around 
 to all her neighbors. But then the Lustigs called them crackers, 
 and that is all they thought about it. 
 
 But in their own household Herman Lustig and his wife tried 
 to preserve a few Jewish practices. On Friday evening extra cand- 
 les were lighted, and on Saturdays the boys were not allowed to 
 dig a cave or build a hen house. At first they did not understand 
 the reason for this rule; but Herman Lustig made it very clear by 
 saying that Saturday is the Jewish Sabbath, and no hard work 
 must be done on that day. 
 
 During the week days the boys ran in and out of their father's 
 store. On Saturday afternoon, and during summer months on 
 Saturday evening, they were permitted to stay in the store. 
 
 This was always a rare treat. On Saturdays the farmers 
 came to town. At every hitching post along either side of the main 
 street stood a horse and a wagon. The farmers who stepped into 
 the store always talked to the boys and invited them to come out to 
 their farms, and especially to see a young colt or a flock of young 
 ducks or geese or turkeys. The town was a-hum on Saturday. 
 Every Saturday there seemed to be a runaway to furnish excitement 
 
 21
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 for the rest of the week. Every Saturday something happened 
 somebody was lost in the great crowds that flocked into town, 
 either a baby or a wife or a husband; something occurred that did 
 not happen week days, and so made the town lively. 
 
 Busy as Canaway was on Saturday, it was at its quietest on 
 Sunday. Early Sunday morning the church bells rang, sending 
 their tones over the hills and far away. The Baptist Church 
 on Main Street started the music. Up Main Street the sounds 
 hastened, carrying along with them in their train the tones of the 
 Congregational and Presbyterian bells, quickly answered by the 
 Methodist bell, and far out on Upper Main Street by the Episcopal 
 chapel's, whose sweet, tinkling tones ended the strain. As soon 
 as the bells rang, the procession of church-goers began. From al- 
 most every house along Bristol and the other streets some one 
 came forth attired in his best clothes. 
 
 It was natural that Ludwig and Gottlieb, who witnessed this 
 scene every Sunday morning, should have their curiosity aroused. 
 And it was. 
 
 "Why don't we go to church, papa?" Ludwig asked his 
 father one Sunday morning, as he saw the Stuart children step 
 out of the house, directly opposite their own home, and follow 
 close behind their parents on their way to the Congregational 
 Church. 
 
 "Our temple is at Rochester. We have no church. We go 
 to a synagogue," answered the father. 
 
 And with this statement of the bare fact, began a recital of 
 the history of the Jewish people as Lustig knew it. But it was, in 
 truth, simply the briefest outline of early Biblical times, including 
 the stories of Abraham, Joseph, Moses, David and King Solomon. 
 Much of what he told his sons, he had heard in his own father's 
 house in Schwersenz. Some of it, too, he had picked up in Cheder, 
 which he had attended. Brief as it all was, it was sufficient to 
 
 22
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 interest the boys and evoke Lustig this wise saying as he con- 
 cluded the story: 
 
 "You see, boys, we Jews try to do the fair and square thing; 
 We try to take care of people when they need help. We study 
 and are instructed to make a good living. Every man should be 
 able to work. Whatsoever a man can do, he should do with all 
 his might." 
 
 But it is not my plan to now tell what the Lustigs did, as in 
 later chapters you will hear how they kept Purim, Pesach and 
 other holidays. To tell all about it would be like picking out all 
 the raisins from a pudding. It is best for us to know something 
 about the Lustigs and their life in Canaway before we know what 
 they did. You will find that out soon. 
 
 Sunday, however, was the happiest day in the week for the 
 boys, even if it was the quietest for the village. 
 
 On Sunday Herman Lustig stayed home, and, whenever the 
 weather permitted, he would take a long walk in the afternoon with 
 his boys. At times a carriage would be hired and then Mrs. 
 Lustig would join them for a carriage ride. Usually, however, 
 she would remain at home, and Mr. Lustig and the boys would 
 then stroll about the village. 
 
 Early Sunday morning, after breakfast, Herman Lustig would 
 take his boys out in the garden. There were a number of "odd 
 jobs," as Lustig called them, awaiting his attention, and in attend- 
 ing to them, with the aid of his two sons, the morning was soon 
 gone. 
 
 On Sunday afternoon, in spring and autumn, and sometimes 
 even in winter, they took their long walks. Not a corner in the 
 village nor in the country immediately surrounding Canaway did 
 they fail to visit. There was the brewery on Upper Main Street; 
 the Sanitarium at the farther end of Bristol Street; the fire engine 
 house on Mechanics Street; the brick yard out on Saltanstall Street; 
 
 23
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 the County Jail on Jail Street; the MacKechnie residence; the 
 Granger Place; the old Academy one of the earliest classical 
 schools in Western New York, which Stephen A. Douglas, 
 Abraham Lincoln's great rival attended; there was the Resser 
 Stock Farm, which was for Lustig a very important spot, as you 
 will hear before this chapter closes; and, of course, there were the 
 Fair Grounds. Every county seat (and Canaway is the county 
 seat of Ontario County) has a court-house, a jail, a town pump 
 and a fair ground. For what are county seats unless they have 
 all these places and buildings? 
 
 Lustig had a dozen and one things to tell the boys about the 
 various places they looked at how, for example, the locomotives on 
 the old Peanut Road (the Batavia-Canaway division of the New 
 York Central) go to sleep in the round house; how bricks are made 
 of clay and sand; how ale is brewed from hops and barley at the 
 brewery; how poor men, after they become rich, build larger houses 
 than they need and live long enough to regret it, as was the case 
 with the MacKechnie residence on Upper Main Street, which was 
 built far away from other peoples' houses so as to make townsmen 
 believe rich people were better than other people. 
 
 But the boys could see some things without being shown; 
 and one thing there was which required no explanation and was a 
 joy in itself a boat ride on Canaway Lake. 
 
 Quite often on Sunday afternoons, in summer, when the weath- 
 er permitted, Lustig hired a boat of old Mrs. McCormack and 
 rowed his boys on the lake or over to the "island." This was not a 
 fictitious or imaginary spot it was not a fairyland; but it seemed 
 like one standing out a mile or more from the shore. Clumps of 
 tall walnut trees and many bushes grew there; all said to have 
 been planted by the Indians, who at one time held a war council on 
 the island, so the boys believed. 
 
 Many legends were associated with the spot. The boys 
 24
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 knew them, and frequently visited the island. There was a sand 
 bar reaching from it to the main land, and along this sand bar the 
 boys frequently "treaded." That was done in this way: 
 
 Stripping and holding their clothes over their heads, fhey 
 waded up to their necks, "treading" the water as they went to and 
 fro along the bar. He who was able to do this in safety that is, 
 without wetting his clothes was considered an expert swimmer. 
 
 The boys claimed there was a hole on the west side of the 
 island which reached down to China. All the boys in Canaway 
 knew that if one digs a hole in the ground and keeps on digging, 
 he will some day reach China. And this hole on the back of the 
 island reached down to China, because no one had ever touched 
 bottom in that spot. Some say an octopus the boys called it a 
 devil-fish lived in that hole, and was alive, ready to entagle a 
 victim in its coils. So no one but Nick Carter ever swam there or 
 even went near it, and he never did it a second time. 
 
 One day Nick Carter "stumped" (which is the Canaway word 
 for challenged) the rest of the crowd to dive in the hole. No one 
 accepted his challenge. And to show his comrades that he was 
 not afraid of any devil-fish, Nick prepared to dive there himself. 
 The boys looked on in awe; he dove down. The boys held their 
 breath in suspense. Soon he bobbed up shouting and howling 
 like an Indian on the war-path. The devil-fish had tried to get 
 him. He could swear to that. His foot had been grasped by the 
 fish. He said so, and who was there to deny it? 
 
 Some man afterwards discovered that it was a branch of an 
 old tree decayed and water-logged dangerous enough to swim- 
 mers. But Nick swore it was a devil-fish, and the boys accepted 
 the story. Later he joined a circus, because he could do any tricks. 
 But no boy ever went near that hole which reached down to 
 China no, sir! 
 
 There is no prettier lake in the Empire State than Canaway. 
 25
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 It is large enough for steamboats to navigate; and in the days of 
 the Lustigs two side or paddle wheel steamers, the Canaway and 
 the Ontario, plied to and fro from the "head to the foot of the lake" 
 as the people of Canaway say; that is, from Woodville, the most 
 northerly, to the southernmost point of the lake, a distance of 
 sixteen miles. Both shores were dotted here and there with small 
 summer resorts, the most famous ones being at Seneca Point, Miller's 
 on the west shore, and Gates' and Willow Grove, on the eastern 
 shore. 
 
 Sometimes the German societies of Rochester, the Maenner- 
 chor and Tumverein, had an excursion to some resort bordering 
 on the lake. Whenever one of these occurred, Lustig would 
 close his store, and, with his family, join his compatriots in a day's 
 outing. But this did not happen every year. 
 
 The foot of the lake is lined by a wide margin of swamps, 
 where the cat tails and weeds grow rank and tall, and, in certain 
 spots, water lilies, white and yellow ones, as the boys who own a 
 homemade, flat-bottom boat know full well. Wherever these 
 swamps have been drained, there is a rich, deep black muck, on 
 which immense quantities of onions are raised and shipped to 
 such far-away places as La Fayette, Indiana, and Topeka, Kansas. 
 
 The north shore is crescent-shaped, but from this broad base, 
 as it were, the lake stretched between ever-rising hills, until at 
 Miller's it is virtually embanked by wooded slopes, the banks 
 standing up straight as a wall. 
 
 Rowing out from the quay at Mrs. McCormack's boat-house, 
 one is enabled to obtain a view of the entire region, for the land 
 slopes north and northwestward till it touches the sky; and over 
 this vast region is spread a magnificent panoramic view of farms, 
 orchards and vineyards. 
 
 The town of Canaway itself, with the dome of its court house 
 and its many church spires, appears to rise out of space. Far to 
 
 26
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 the west, and gradually melting into the sky, slope the fields of 
 grain and pastures, dotted with remnants of the original forest. 
 To the west and north and eastward, the land slants upward, as 
 if it were an immense fan, on which some great painter had drawn 
 a vast picture of rural life, and had placed in the center of the 
 picture a country village with its long, arbored streets reaching 
 from the lake to the upper crest of the hills, and being interlaced 
 and cut across by side streets stretching from field to field from 
 east to west. At sunset the glow of the sun lights up this curved 
 rim of the landscape with sheets of red and gold; while from the 
 east and southeast, over the bluffs, piled one against the other, 
 recalling fanciful images of some Alpine region, come darksome 
 shadows purpling the encircling hills which rise up against the 
 horizon. 
 
 Canaway and Canaway Lake have had their poet. Many 
 years ago the following verses appeared in the Ontario County 
 Messenger. 
 
 Lustig used to sing them to his sons by adapting them to a 
 rune made familiar in this country by a famous but sad song, known 
 to all Americans as "Maryland, My Maryland." 
 
 The Lustig boys memorized the verses, and later in their life, 
 whenever they recalled their childhood in Canaway, they would 
 softly hum these stanzas: 
 
 I 
 
 "For thee my heart leaps into song, 
 
 My native town, my native town. 
 Men love the places where they dwelt, 
 
 The hills and vales of chilhood's play, 
 And I, who at far shrines have knelt, 
 
 Long now to be in Canaway. 
 
 27
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 II. 
 
 "To dwell amid thy quiet ways, 
 
 My native town, my native town; 
 To walk thy tree-arched streets and lanes, 
 
 And roam in gladness o'er thy hills; 
 To hear the patter of the rains 
 
 The dream my inmost being fills. 
 
 III. 
 "Alas! a phantom hope art thou, 
 
 My native town, my native town. 
 Now all my years have grown too short, 
 
 And boyhood seems like April snow 
 The fellows of my youthful sport 
 
 Are shadows of the long ago. 
 
 IV. 
 
 "But splendid still thy morning sun, 
 
 My native town, my native town. 
 And high on Bristol hill he stands. 
 
 But nightly ghost-like moonbeams glide 
 Across the lake and vine-clad lands, 
 
 Like dead days ris'n and sanctified." 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb were too young to appreciate the natural 
 beauties of their native village and the lake region. But so long 
 as they lived they remembered the lay of the land, as we say 
 the lake and surrounding country. It was only as young men, 
 on revisiting their native town that they discovered the charm 
 and magic of the scenery. In those days the mere pleasure of rid- 
 ing in a boat over the smooth waters, along the shore and under the 
 willows, in and out of coves and to and from the island, with swift 
 
 28
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 glimpses of the town before or back of them, as the case might be, 
 sufficed and answered all their wishes. 
 
 But this interest they did have they were eager and curious 
 to know how their father happened to come to this particular 
 spot in America. One Sunday, while driving to the Sulphur 
 Springs on the west shore of the lake, five miles from town, the 
 subject came up, Ludwig asking his father how it was that he 
 came to Canaway. 
 
 Lustig answered promptly: "Walked. Yes, sir," he said 
 I walked." 
 
 "Tell us about it, papa," Gottlieb urged, suspecting that it 
 was something worth knowing. And, by the way, there is no 
 better place to talk without being interrupted than on a drive in the 
 country or on a stroll along the roads. 
 
 Lustig was in a story-telling mood, and began: 
 
 "One day, when I was a peddler 
 
 "Were you a peddler?" inquired Ludwig, in great surprise. 
 
 "Certainly," Lustig answered, and he let the horse walk so 
 that he might the better tell his sons. "When we immigrants 
 come from the old country, the quickest way we have to leam the 
 language here is to peddle. Then, too, we must earn our living. 
 So we peddle. There's no disgrace in that." 
 
 His sons did not understand exactly what he meant. 
 
 "What did you do?" Gottlieb asked. 
 
 "Go from house to house trying to sell my goods," Lustig 
 explained. "Most of the time I was in the country among farmers. 
 At every farm house I stopped, I sold something, because in those 
 days there were few stores, and it was difficult for farmers to get 
 to town. That's how I started in business in this country, and 
 that's how every man of my people that I know began his business 
 career." 
 
 Many people were out driving this beautiful Sunday after- 
 29
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 noon. Now and then Lustig would stop to talk to his friends 
 whom he met on the road. But after a while he resumed the 
 story that had been interrupted in this way. 
 
 "I came over in the time of the Civil War, boys, the day after 
 the battle of Gettysburg, as I learned later. I did not understand 
 a word of English. My grandfather had a brother living in New 
 York, whose address I had obtained from my father in the old 
 country. I called on my granduncle, who was then an old man. 
 He received me pleasantly, and set me to work at my trade that 
 was tailoring. I worked a month for him, and then he sent me to 
 some relatives who lived in Rochester. They supplied me with 
 a peddler's outfit, and told me to go anywhere in the country." 
 
 "Where did you go?" Ludwig asked, with a boy's impatience 
 to know everything at once. 
 
 "Anywhere," Lustig told him, carelessly. "I did not know 
 the country roads or the language that is, English. But every 
 house I stopped at they would ask me to tell them the news of the 
 war; but I did not know what they meant." 
 
 "De noose? De noose? I repeated, just like that." 
 
 It amused the boys to hear their father imitate himself. 
 
 "Noose? I hev henkershiffs, stockin's, ribbuns, lace-goods." 
 
 "Naw, the news! What's going on in the war?" the farmers 
 asked me, anxiously. 
 
 "I shook my head. I did not know what they were talking 
 about; so I unpacked my bundles, opened my satchel, and showed 
 them the stuff I had to sell. And they always bought something 
 of me," he added, with a chuckle. 
 
 "Everyone tried to teach me how to speak English. When 
 I said handkershiffs, I would be corrected. They made fun of me 
 in a pleasant way." 
 
 "What did they do, papa?" the boys asked, together. 
 
 "Well, whenever I came to a farmhouse, some one, seeing 
 30
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 that I was a foreigner or a greenhorn, as we were called in those 
 days, would say: 
 
 "'Hello, Dutchman! what have you got to sell?' 
 
 "I would unpack my bundles and spread out my goods on the 
 floor. The men would come in from the fields, and then the 
 women and children would gather around me to look at the stuff. 
 If it was meal time, they would invite me to take dinner with them, 
 although you know that in those days we Jewish men dare not eat 
 everything. Sometimes I explained, as best I could, why we Jews 
 were forbidden to eat pork, or drink milk in our coffee at dinner, or 
 Spread butter on our bread. But what a mess I made of it, trying 
 to tell them in my broken English! They laughed at me, and 
 imitated my words, and made me blush to the roots of my hair. 
 Often they showed that they wanted to convert me, and invited 
 me to attend church with them to hear their preacher. All asked 
 me questions about the Bible. No matter how busy the farmers 
 were, they always had time to talk with a stranger. They had 
 a little fun with me; but none ever said an unpleasant word to me ; 
 and only on one instance was I refused a night's lodging. But 
 that's how I came to Canaway." 
 
 The boys were looking curiously at their father. He kept 
 his horse on a walk, so that he could better tell them this all-import- 
 ant matter. 
 
 "We peddlers, you know, could not afford to stop over night 
 at a hotel. However, there were no hotels where I went. When- 
 ever I came to a farmhouse about dusk, I asked the farmer or his 
 wife to let me stop there till morning. No matter how much they 
 bought of me, they would not accept pay for a night's lodging, 
 and very few would accept pay for meals. People are different 
 these days; but then, times have changed. I must tell you what 
 happened one night." 
 
 31
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "What was it?" they asked. 
 
 "It was over in Cheshire. I have forgotten the name of the 
 family. We were seated in the parlor talking about the Bible 
 and the Jews; for I had got so I could make myself understood. 
 We had been talking a long time, and then all went to bed. How 
 long I had been asleep, I do not remember. But I was suddenly 
 aroused by some one calling, 'Hey, Dutchman! The barn's afire!'" 
 
 "Didn't they have fire engines?" Ludwig asked, interrupting. 
 
 "Fire engines in the country!" Lustig exclaimed. "We 
 formed a bucket brigade. I will tell you what that is. When I 
 heard the farmer call, I hurried into my clothes and rushed down 
 stairs. The bam was burning. Great sheets of fire shot high 
 in the air, lighting up the whole country around. From every 
 part of the neighborhood men came running across the fields, those 
 coming from a distance riding on horse-back or in wagons. I 
 never saw so many farmers in a farmyard, nor such excitement as 
 was there. Every one had a plan, and they were shouting at the 
 tops of their voices: 'Save the house! Save the horses! Save the 
 cows!'" 
 
 Lustig imitated the hoarse, wild cry of excited farm folks 
 his loud words resounding over the fields. 
 
 "Some cool-headed men shouted out: 'Fire brigade! fire 
 brigade!'" 
 
 "What was that?" Ludwig asked, a trifle frightened by his 
 father's vivid description. 
 
 "I'll tell you," Lustig said. "We formed in line instantly from 
 the well to the fire. A couple of farmers kept pumping water from 
 the well. As fast as the buckets were filled, they were passed down 
 the line, and the last man in line threw the water on the flames. 
 
 "Fortunately, the well was deep and the pump new. We 
 had plenty of water and saved a part of the bam. That was my 
 first experience as a fireman in America. After I settled in Ger- 
 
 32
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 many, I joined a volunteer fire company. Every man belongs 
 to such a company in Canaway." 
 
 "We will, too, when we are men," the boys said, proudly. 
 
 "Pshaw! when you are young men, they will not have fires," 
 Lustig said, mischievously. 
 
 They evidently did not understand what he meant, and, in 
 order to spare them needless inquiries, he added, quickly: "I 
 haven't told you yet how I came to Canaway, have I?" 
 
 "Tell us," they said, in chorus. 
 
 "One dark night I stopped at a farmer's house in Paddle- 
 ford that's five miles north of Canaway. Do you know where 
 it is?" 
 
 "It's where the train stops first after it leaves Canaway for 
 Rochester," Ludwig answered, promptly. 
 
 "Exactly. The locomotive runs out of Canaway so fast it 
 must stop at Paddleford to get breath. That's right, son. It was 
 hop-picking season; but I did not know it then, and every house 
 was crowded with hop-pickers. Every place I stopped at, I was 
 told they were crowded, and, at their suggestion, I started to walk 
 to Canaway. 
 
 "I was tired, and an extra five miles to go on a dark night, 
 with heavy things to carry, was not a pleasant prospect for me, I can 
 tell you. But off I started, hurrying as fast I could Avith a big pack 
 on my back and filled satchels in both of my hands. 
 
 "For some time I walked on. I could scarcely see. I was 
 very tired. The pack on my back and my two satchels were grow- 
 ing heavier all the time. I stumbled against stones and ran against 
 bushes, trees and fences. It was so dark I could not keep in the 
 road. All along the way it was as if I was blindfold. I did not 
 know where I was going. Finally, far down the road, I saw a 
 tiny light, and I made for it. After a while I reached the farm- 
 house where the light came from. And I walked into the yard. 
 
 33
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 A dog began to bark and rushed at me. I was accustomed to 
 such treatment from dogs, and stood prepared to knock the brute 
 down, when a man on the porch I do not to this day how he 
 knew me called out in German: 
 
 "' Hello, countryman! Where are you going?" 
 
 "I was so tired that I could not answer politely. I walked 
 up to the porch, put down my bundles, and the first words I said 
 were: 'Can I stay here over night 1 ? 
 
 "'Come in,' the farmer said, pleasantly; 'come in, eat something 
 and let's see who you are.' 
 
 "He spoke in German to me, and that made me happy. 
 
 "As soon as I went into the house, the entire family came into 
 the room where I was. The farmer had a large family. His 
 children were young men and women; and there were some rela- 
 tives, all living in one farm-house. They got me something to eat 
 and gave me some home-made wine to drink. After a little while 
 I felt rested; but I was too tired to open my bundles. They asked 
 me my name, and what part of Germany I came from. Then I 
 asked again for permission to stop there over night. I was too tired 
 to go farther." 
 
 "'Stop here? Certainly,' the German said, with evident pleas- 
 ure; but first we go to town to meet some of our countrymen.' 
 
 "I refused, but they persuaded; and soon the farmer, his sons, 
 and I drove off to town." 
 
 "Who was the man, papa?" Ludwig asked promptly. 
 
 "What town was it?" Gottlieb inquired, before his father had 
 time to answer the first question. 
 
 Lustig smiled. "The man? Why, that's our friend Reeser 
 the best friend I have in Ontario County. And the town? Why, 
 that was Canaway." 
 
 There was not so much mystery to it after all. The boys 
 34
 
 THE LUSTIGS IN CANAWAY 
 
 became suddenly silent It seemed their father had reached the 
 end of his story. But he had more to say. 
 
 "That's how I came to Canaway. Old Yakob Reeser and 
 his sons brought me here. Well, we drove into town that night 
 and up to Lem Sprague's clothing store. We all got out, and Rees- 
 er took me into the store. 
 
 "'Lem,' he said, 'I have found a clerk for you; 1 and he pre- 
 sented me to the proprietor, who was an Englishman. 
 
 "'Just the man I want, 1 Sprague said, as he looked at me. 
 'Do you speak German?' 
 
 "'Sure, 1 Reeser answered for me. 'He is a countryman of 
 mine.' 
 
 "'What's your name?' Sprague inquired. 
 
 "'Hyman Lustig,' I said. 
 
 "'Hyman,' he repeated after me. 'Hyman? That won't do. 
 Nobody here by that name. A clerk must have a name everybody 
 knows. Suppose you call yourself Herman instead?' 
 
 "'That's good,' Reeser laughed; 'call him Dutch Herman; 
 then every one of his countrymen will buy clothing here.' And 
 that name has clung to me to this day. Everybody knows me as 
 Dutch Herman; but in the old country my name was Hyman." 
 
 The boys were not at all surprised at the ease with which 
 men change their names in America. 
 
 "That was an experience for me," Lustig resumed, presently. 
 "Sprague engaged me as a clerk then and there; and while we 
 were talking over the arrangement, Reeser went out and brought 
 back all the Germans in town to meet me. There were Singlaf 
 and Mutchler, and Lintner, and Metzger, and Adolph Yahn, the 
 furniture man, and a dozen others. They all came into the store, 
 shook hands with me and urged me to remain in Canaway and 
 give up peddling. I sold out my goods, and well, I acted as a 
 clerk for Lem a whole year. Meanwhile I learned how to sell 
 
 35
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUST1GS 
 
 clothing and speak English. Lem wanted to speculate in hops. 
 So he sold out to me, and I started in business for myself." 
 
 "After another year I prospered so that I sent home for mamma 
 from Schwersenz; and that's the way Lustig came to settle in 
 Canaway." 
 
 36
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 In a peaceful country town like Canaway merchants have 
 plenty of time to visit their customers, and so had Herman Lustig- 
 He knew intimately the men who traded at his store, and often 
 talked to them about their farms, crops and cattle, and, naturally, 
 their families. Pleasant as it was for him to chat with his cus- 
 tomers, it was a still pleasanter task for him to talk with his 
 two sons. 
 
 Lustig always had something to tell Ludwig and Gottlieb* 
 no matter what it concerned whether a steam velocipede (a great 
 invention, he assured them, which would make walking unneces- 
 sary), or the new electric light, which the boys thought a marvel, 
 as it did away with sulphur matches, wicks and kerosene. What- 
 ever the story was, the boys were certain to be interested and to 
 enjoy it. 
 
 Whenever their father had an idle hour he would amuse them 
 in this way. Did they happen to step into his store on their way 
 home from school when Lustig was not busy, he would soon gather 
 them about him, usually around the stove, and tell them a story. 
 If a customer dropped in during the course of the story, either to 
 make a purchase or to rest, he, too, would sometimes listen to the 
 tale. 
 
 In this way it happened that the Lustig boys learned and heard 
 much of Schwersenz, the native town of Herman Lustig and his 
 wife. Whatever their father remembered of the provincial town 
 of Posen, the various accidents and incidents of his eventful boy- 
 
 37
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 hood, he told Ludwig and Gottlieb. He knew no stories other 
 than the experiences that made up his own boyhood. He had not 
 read any story books, and even if he had taken his tales from books 
 they would not have been half so interesting as the tales about 
 events in which he had taken part. Every story was fascinating, 
 and in every story Herman related he figured prominently. 
 
 The boys were naturally very proud of their father because of 
 what he had done, and then because of the wonderful events which 
 took place in such strange, far-away places as Schwersenz, the city 
 of Posen, and the still greater city, Berlin. 
 
 Posen and Berlin are indeed great cities, but in the estimation 
 of the Lustig boys Schwersenz was, in point of interest, of greater 
 importance, Schwersenz was for them the most interesting town in 
 all the world. In that old Prussian-Polish town of Eastern Ger- 
 many, three miles as the crow flies from Posen, lived the oddest 
 and the funniest men and women on earth. In no other place, cer- 
 tainly not in Canaway, existed characters the like of those that 
 lived in Schwersenz. And Canaway, it must be remembered, had 
 an odd array of strange persons of whom we will hear before long. 
 
 In Schwersenz there lived one peculiar person known by no 
 other name than Schayah. This Schayah called on every Jewish 
 resident in Schwersenz Friday afternoon to beg a pfennig to buy a 
 candle for his Sabbath light or a plate of noodle soup for his Sab- 
 bath dinner to mention only a few of the uses he might make of 
 the pennies begged from his fellow townsmen. 
 
 Of Schayah the boys heard many tales. He was an old 
 bachelor. No one knew where he came from, who his father and 
 mother were, or his brothers and sisters, if he had any. He was 
 neither old nor young. The oldest inhabitant of Schwersenz could 
 not remember the day Schayah came to town. It was a tradition 
 that the workmen in digging the foundation of the very ancient 
 town hall dug him up. He never changed in manner or appear- 
 
 38
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 ance. As he was in the beginning, that is, in the days of Lustig's 
 own father, so he was in Herman Lustig's time, a short black- 
 bearded man, his small, beady eyes always blinking. He was al- 
 ways twirling his thumbs; he was forever bowing, forever thanking, 
 forever saying nothing and doing nothing. 
 
 "He lived all alone," so Lustig asserted, " in the rear room of the 
 beadle's small house on a side street." The houses in Schwersenz 
 are not numbered, nor are the streets named. Everybody knew 
 where everybody lived. A family or their decendants lived in 
 one and the same house a hundred years or more; and hence few 
 new houses were built. Nobody knew, for that matter, when 
 Schwersenz was founded. There is no record of the day the first 
 house was built. They always were there, so Herman Lustig 
 said, and no one had any reason to doubt him. 
 
 Now, Schayah, of whom I am speaking, was neither a business 
 man nor a laborer. Had he lived in America he might have been 
 called an errand boy, to judge from what he did in Schwersenz, 
 that is, whenever he did do anything. If some one wanted to 
 send a package to Posen, or to a relative in a neighboring village, 
 Schayah would be engaged to carry the bundle. He would do 
 it too, but you may be sure he took his time in delivering the pack- 
 age or whatever it might be. 
 
 Suppose it was necessary to have a pair of corn-stuffed geese 
 in Posen on a certain Friday afternoon, and Schayah was engaged 
 to deliver the parcel. In order to have him reach the city of Posen 
 betimes you had to dispatch him on the Sunday previous. 
 
 "Schayah," we would ask him (so Lustig said), "why does 
 it take you so long to carry a pair of geese to Posen?" 
 
 Schayah would shrug his shoulders, blink his eyes, and say, 
 as slowly he walked, "Does it take me so long?" 
 
 "Longer than it took the Creator, blessed be He, to create 
 the world." 
 
 39
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 *Ach, yah," Schayah would answer. "If one walks too 
 fast the geese may come to life again; and see what it would cost 
 in that case to have the geese properly slaughtered a second time." 
 
 Schayah was not pressed for time, so one might well excuse 
 him for taking five days to walk five miles. He was to live a 
 hundred years, and took life leisurely in the meantime. 
 
 But he was not the only notable in the town. There was one, 
 Crazy Carrie, as she was called. She had her own peculiarities, 
 which nobody heeded because of her misfortune. All that 
 Herman Lustig remembered concerning poor Carrie was a habit 
 she had of dancing in the market place on rainy days. 
 
 "'Carrie, Carrie?' we boys would call to her," Lustig ex- 
 plained, why do you dance in the market square on rainy days? 
 Come indoors or you will catch cold!' The harder and louder 
 we called the longer she danced. 'Carrie, Carrie, so contrary.' 
 we would say, 'come in; it's raining. 
 
 "Then she would laugh and begin dancing, and sing some- 
 thing like this. 
 
 "Rain, rain, it wets the stones. 
 
 And starts the pain in old men's bones. 
 
 "Singing this refrain she would dance harder and faster. The 
 harder it would rain the harder would she dance, until some one 
 dragged her home." 
 
 The curious antics of this unfortunate woman amused the 
 boys. Her mind was unbalanced by a disappointment in love, but 
 Lustig warned them against their temptation to inquire more about 
 her. 
 
 "Any one so afflicted," he counseled them, "is to be pitied. 
 You must never tease an unfortunate person, such as a cripple, an 
 idiot or a fool. It is a great sin to mock or imitate them. They 
 are to be pitied." 
 
 40
 
 CRAZY CARRIE 
 
 Rain. rain, it wttt tnt stone' and itarti thi pa 
 
 in olj mtn i ton
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 With this advice he dismissed poor Carrie, to tell them a few 
 interesting things about Moishe Stumm, the goose herdsman. 
 
 "In the old country," Lustig would say, "some men make a 
 living buying and selling geese. All the week they tramp about 
 the country buying geese and driving their purchase in flocks from 
 village to village. When they come to the town market they sell 
 the geese; then start out again to buy more. 
 
 "Well, this Moishe Stumm was a goose herdsman. He lived 
 in Schwersenz. Early Sunday morning he started out in his long 
 gray-green coat, with his long staff and heavy top boots. All the 
 week he was gone. Late Thursday night or early Friday morn- 
 ing he would return, driving his geese across the town square when 
 everybody was in bed." 
 
 "'Quack, quack, quack,' is the sound the geese would make as 
 they crept into town. The quacking of one or two geese one 
 pays no attention to that but when a hundred geese wabbled 
 into Schwersenz at the dead of night you would think some one 
 was beating a kettle drum. 
 
 "Every one awoke with the noise. 'There comes Moishe 
 Stumm and his geese,' they would say, and every goose goes bare- 
 footed.'" 
 
 Every character had some singularities unlike those of any- 
 body the boys knew of in Canaway. Herman Lustig described 
 well these traits. 
 
 There was Moritz Blatt, the town baker, a little fat man, 
 whom the Schwersenz boys loved to tease; and Gabriel Fritag, 
 the wine merchant, the wealthiest merchant in Schwersenz, who 
 advertised his wealth by buying a dogcart, which he drove through 
 town, to the envy of the envious and the joy of the boys, who 
 stole a ride whenever they could escape the merchant's whip. 
 Then there was Leiser Lesser, the town fiddler, who sawed over 
 
 41
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 and over again his unmusical renditions at all the weddings in 
 Schwersenz. 
 
 All these scenes were very vivid in Lustig's mind, and vividly 
 he would describe them to his boys. To their imaginative minds 
 Schwersenz, with those persons who seemed to be created to amuse 
 children with their strange, odd and curious sayings and doings, 
 was as romantic as fairyland. 
 
 Among those of lesser fame whom Lustig remembered were 
 Gabriel Lesser, the hunchback glazier, son of Leiser Lesser, who 
 was never seen unaccompained by his good dog. The dumb 
 animal was an amiable companion to him, and to the animal 
 Lesser would turn whenever any one addressed him. 
 
 The dog's name was Schnukle. "Say, Schnukle, what does 
 the fellow mean?" he would ask, whenever anybody addressed 
 him. 
 
 Schnukle, the dog, would bark his answer. 
 
 "So the man ought to break a window in his house. I haven't 
 put in a window for him since his first-born was made a son of the 
 covenant." 
 
 "Well, Gabriel, how does it go with you?" 
 
 He always had an answer. "How does it go with me?" he 
 would ask, looking down at his dog. "It goes on two feet and 
 four feet. Is it not so, Schnukle? Tell him how it goes with you, 
 Schnukle. On four feet?" 
 
 The dog barked. 
 
 "On four feet, sir, on four feet. Good-by." 
 
 Then he would turn around and walk in the opposite direc- 
 tion, as if he were afraid to speak, poor fellow. He died many 
 years ago. But I can see him today, going down the street with 
 his box of glass, or, oftener, with his hands held apart in a steady 
 position. 
 
 "Well, Gabriel, how goe, it?" 
 
 42
 
 MOISHE STUMM 
 
 "And ever]/ goose went iarefoottJ.
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "Well, Gabriel, why do you hold your hands in that one 
 position?" 
 
 "Don't talk to me, or you will break my measure. This is 
 the measure of a window. Come, Schnukle. Good-by, sir." 
 
 Gottlieb and Ludwig were very anxious to meet these people 
 and see for themselves how they acted. Schayah, to be sure, 
 they wished to see more than any one, and despite their father's 
 warning, they wished to see Carrie dance on rainy days. They 
 would like to have seen Moishe Stumm, the goose herdsman; 
 Moritz Blatt, the baker; Leiser Lesser, the fiddler, and his hunch- 
 back son, the glazier. These people they would have gone miles 
 merely to look at. Also did they want to see Nicholas Polauski, 
 the Polish town watchman, who guarded the streets and houses at 
 night, and every hour sung out low but musically, "One o'clock, 
 two o'clock, three o'clock, four o'clock, five o'clock, and in winter, 
 six o'clock. In summer time he stopped at five o'clock. This 
 was the hour for busy people to be up. At this hour the old wooden 
 shutters were unbolted, the good housewives started for the town 
 pump to get a bucket of fresh water, and the whirl and bustle of 
 domestic cares began again and continued its monotonous round. 
 For every day was alike in Schwersenz, as far as the women were 
 concerned. 
 
 But there were other things besides the peculiar people which 
 they wished to see. There was the old house, with its low ceiling, 
 in which Lustig was bom. There was the porcelain stove stand- 
 ing in the comer, on the top of which Lustig assured his sons he 
 had often slept on cold winter nights. Then it was he heard the 
 wind roar down the chimney and growl at little children. Ludwig 
 and Gottlieb would also like to see how sand was strewn over the 
 hard wood floor instead of carpet; and more than all, they wished 
 they had a curtained bed to sleep in from which they could peek 
 
 43
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 out early in the morning, when the roosters began their serenades. 
 They were strange roosters, these Schwersenz roosters; and 
 Lustig soon convinced his sons that the Schwersenz roosters actu- 
 ally sang and talked. Every morning the roosters would begin: 
 Kick-er-e-kick-er-e-koo! 
 Good mom, I say to you. 
 
 I am the cock; it's 4 o'clock 
 Good mom, I say to you. 
 
 "Oh, papa," Ludwig interrupted his father, "do the roosters 
 talk in Schwersenz?" 
 
 It was astonishing what marvelous creatures these Schwersenz 
 roosters were, and the boys stared at their father in wonderment 
 as he continued: 
 
 "Certainly," Lustig affirmed dryly. "In Schwersenz the 
 roosters sing, and so do the hens." 
 
 "Well, my bantam rooster doesn't sing," Gottlieb promptly 
 interrupted. "When I go near him he flies away and won't talk 
 to me." 
 
 "Oh, you don't understand their language," his father returned 
 slyly. "King Solomon you remember I told you about the wise 
 king who knew the language of birds and beasts he could talk 
 to his hens and roosters. But in Schwersenz we boys learned to 
 talk to the chickens just as he did." 
 
 "Mrs. Ashley's hens don't sing, either, papa," Ludwig 
 hastened to add, still incredulous and mystified. "I listened all day 
 to her hens to hear them talk, but they never speak like you do." 
 
 "Oh, they don't talk like people. They cackle in chicken 
 talk. Some day when you go in the back yard and listen you will 
 hear the hens say: 
 
 "Kluck, kluck, kluck, 
 Wish me luck. 
 One egg for Millie, 
 
 44
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 Another one for Meg 
 Out here in the nest 
 A fresh white egg." 
 
 Not only the people, but the dogs and cats, the chickens and 
 geese, the cows and horses of Schwersenz were marvelous creatures. 
 There were no beings on the face of the earth like the men and 
 animals of that old town. No wonder, then, the boys were curious 
 to see this wonderful place. 
 
 Then there was the old wind mill, out a short distance from 
 the town. It was a very old stone mill, with big broad arms which 
 used to turn slowly around whenever the wind blew hard, groaning 
 as they turned, as if in pain. Every time the wind blew the mill 
 moaned like one suffering from a fatal sickness. In the daytime 
 the moaning frightened no one. But on dark, stormy nights the 
 mill's groaning would wake people up, and then the good folk of 
 Schwersenz, aroused from their sleep by these unpleasant sounds, 
 would sit up in their beds and listen. It was only the old grist mill. 
 "The old mill is groaning," they would say; "some one is dying," 
 and then they would fall asleep again. 
 
 But this was not so with the children. Hearing the old mill 
 they would wake up, hearken, and then cover their heads in fright, 
 for fear the groaning monster might come and strike them with one 
 of its immense arms. 
 
 "We have no mills here in Canaway, have we, papa?" the 
 boys asked, when Lustig told them about the ancient wind mill. 
 
 "Yes, we have. We have a saw mill, a grist mill, a spoke 
 factory and a brick yard, and some farmers in Hopeville have 
 wind mills." 
 
 "But they are not like the mill in Schwersenz?" Gottlieb 
 inquired. They don't make any noise, and then you can't see 
 them." 
 
 "Well, this is America. Here people are too busy to pay any 
 
 45
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 attention to a wind mill. Once we boys tried to stop the mill. 
 Did I ever tell you about that incident?" 
 
 "No, no!" they cried in chorus, delighted at the prospect of 
 another story. 
 
 "Once we Schwersenz boys thought we would play a trick 
 on the old mill and stop it. There was Mendel Lesser, Morris 
 Lesser, the fiddler's son; Adolph Rich (my cousin), Ludwig Levi- 
 sohn and myself. 
 
 "We got some strong string, and one moonlight night we 
 started out to tie the arms of the old mill. Out in the fields it stood, 
 a big black object against the sky. We went up to it as quietly 
 as we could, so that we might not start it. For the mill was alive 
 you know, and if any one came near it it would start. Round and 
 round the arms would whirl, beating the air and chasing the moon. 
 Every time the mill turned, 'Ouh, ouh, groo, groo, 1 it would sing, 
 just like that. 
 
 "We crept up," Lustig continued, "quiet as mice. The mill 
 did not hear us. But we were frightened; so scared we dare 
 scarcely breathe. I could hear my heart pounding inside of me, 
 and once Mendel Lesser stumbled on a stone and began to cry. 
 
 "'Keep still, 1 we told him, 'for the mill will hear us and run 
 after us.' 
 
 "So he hushed, and on we marched. I took out my rope and 
 tied it around the big wooden arms, and Adolph Rich tied his 
 string around another arm. Mendel Lesser stood between us to 
 warn us if the old miller should happen to see us. No man came^ 
 so we tied the arms as tight as we could. 
 
 "Suddenly, I tell you it was so quick I didn't know how it 
 happened, the mill started and lifted Adolph in the air. 
 
 "'Mendel, Hyman, Morris!' he cried, 'take me down. The 
 old mill's going to eat me up. Take me down!' My heavens, we 
 were scared. There was Adolph, up in the air, hanging to an 
 
 46
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 arm of the mill and crying and screaming so loud that you could 
 hear him in Posen. 
 
 "Then we all began to scream. We made so much noise 
 the old miller heard us and crept out of his little hut inside the mill, 
 swinging his lantern. 
 
 "'Here! What is this! 1 he yelled at us. 
 
 "'Take me down, take me down! 1 Adolph cried, 'take me 
 down!'" 
 
 "'Get down yourself. You got up there yourself, now get 
 down yourself! 1 
 
 "'Oh, dear, oh, dear, I can't get down. The mill will eat 
 me up,' 
 
 "'So, so' the miller exclaimed. 'The mill will eat you up? 
 Since when are you rye? Are you grain you little fool? The 
 mill eats grain. What do you want up there? Come down, I say.' 
 
 "'We wanted to stop the mill. It makes too much noise. It 
 frightens us and we can't sleep,' we told him, all shaking in our 
 boots with fright. 
 
 "'Ah, ha, you Schwersenzer rascals, want to stop my mill? 
 Are you stronger than the wind? Want to stop the wind? The 
 wind turns the mill, the mill grinds the grain, and the grain feeds 
 the people. Stop the wind, eh? You rascals!' 
 
 "'Take me down, take me down. I will never do it again!' 
 Adolph cried. 
 
 "' Ah, play tricks on the old miller? Stay up there and go to 
 sleep. When the wind blows you will come down.' 
 
 "Take me down. I'm falling. Quick, take me down!' 
 
 M Ach, you silly boys. Take hold of this arm and pull it.' 
 We all took hold. 'Say, you, up there,' he called to Adolph, 
 'hold on now and we'll pull you down. "Around came the arms," 
 and Lustig illustrated the motion by a wide whirl of his arm. 
 "Slow, slow it turned around. When Adolph was near enough 
 
 47
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 to the ground he let go and fell, and then, jumping to his feet as 
 quickly as he could, he ran home, and all of us after him. 
 
 "We never went near that that mill again, No, siree." 
 
 The boys breathed easier when Adolph and his friends were 
 safely home and in bed. But one story invited another. One 
 never satisfied them, especially on a dull, rainy afternoon. 
 
 "What else did the boys do?" they asked their father. 
 
 "Oh 1 we went to school, just as you do here." Lustig answered- 
 "We called it Cheder, and our teacher was a man." 
 
 Just this hint that at one time their own father attended school 
 was sufficient to make them ask many questions about it and his 
 teacher. Having nothing better to do, Lustig told them all he 
 knew about his school life. 
 
 "In the old country we went to school at 6 o'clock in the morn- 
 ing in summer time, and at 7 in winter months. And we stayed 
 there all day. 
 
 "Our school was a rear room of the synagogue. The teacher 
 would stand at his desk when we entered the room, looking very 
 sharply at us. Sometimes the room was cold. We boys were 
 always cold. 
 
 "'Open your books', our teacher would say, 'and begin.'" 
 
 "All of us then read the morning prayers from the prayer 
 book. That is how we started. After that we would turn to the 
 older boys and begin a translation from the five books of Moses. 
 If any one missed a word or forgot the meaning of it he 
 would rap them over the knuckles. 
 
 "'Forget, do you?' the teacher would say, 'I told you Dabash 
 means honey. That's something to eat. You can do that eat. 
 But leam, no. You forget everything. Dabash means honey. 
 Now remember it.' And he would hit the unfortunate scholar 
 over his knuckles to make him remember. He used a long ruler, 
 and it was hard as a stone. I tell you it hurt." 
 
 48
 
 THE SCHWERSENZ MILL 
 
 lit ran horn anJ )) f ft A '
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 The boys looked very sober and surprised as Lustig winced. 
 The recollection of this petty chastisement was still clear in his 
 memory. 
 
 "Oh, it's different in this country. I know that," he said, 
 noticing the sober faces of his sons. "Our school room was very 
 small and the small windows did not let in much light. In winter 
 time the supply of wood would sometimes bum out, and then there 
 would be no logs left in the bin. The wind rattled the windows, 
 and the snow blew down into the chimney and into the stove and 
 put out the fire. 
 
 "Up and down our teacher walked, wrapping his sheep skin 
 coat about him and drawing his fur cap down over his ears. All 
 one could see of his face was two black eyes and his long side 
 curls hanging from his temples. 
 
 "'See, now, you bad boys! Fool your teacher, will you? 
 Put snow in the stove, will you? All day long you must stay here 
 and study. An extra passage for you all in addition. Now, 
 study! 1 
 
 "Up and down the room he walked, his arms folded, turning 
 now to this boy and then to that boy. 'Here, you, study. 1 To 
 that one he said, 'study. 1 Study hard, all of you, and you will 
 get warm.'" 
 
 "Did you have a vacation?" Ludwig asked. 
 
 "Every Friday afternoon and all day Saturday." 
 
 "Friday afternoon?" they asked in astonishment. "We go to 
 school on Friday, and sometimes we speak pieces on Fridays." 
 Gottlieb informed his father. 
 
 "We had to get ready for Schabbus, you know. Friday 
 was a busy day in Schwersenz. We boys had to brush our clothes, 
 polish our boots, and then be washed and combed. Friday 
 night and Saturday were the great events of the week. There's 
 
 49
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 nothing like it here in America. Schabbus was a great day for 
 the boys." 
 
 "What did you do?" they inquired, expecting, of course, that 
 the usual doings of the Schwersenz boys meant something very 
 exciting. 
 
 "I will tell you why we boys waited for Friday. On that day 
 we went to the town baker." 
 
 "What was his name?" Ludwig asked. 
 
 "Haven't I ever told you of Moritz Blatt, the town baker?" 
 
 "Tell us something about him, papa." 
 
 "In Schwersenz," Lustig began, leisurely, enjoying the telling 
 of these events of his boyhood as much as his sons did the hearing 
 of them, "everybody can not afford a baking oven. Wood was 
 expensive, and so was peat, a kind of soft coal. The hard coal 
 we use in this country is unknown in Germany. So a man builds 
 an oven and bakes all the cakes and bread for the people in his 
 oven." 
 
 "Lake Smith's?" Gottlieb suggested, referring to the local 
 steam bakery, which manufactured a famous soda biscuit. 
 
 "No, no; nothing like that," Lustig told them. "Our village 
 baker, Blatt, lived in a little house on a side street. In his kitchen 
 he had a big porcelain stove. In that he did all his baking. What 
 fun we had with him, more fun with him than with any other man 
 in Schwersenz." 
 
 Lustig laughed at his own recollection of the baker. 
 
 "Blatt was a little fat man," he told them," with big, fat fingers, 
 and a face as round as a pumpkin or it would have been had he 
 shaved off his beard as men do in this country. Out there no one 
 is clean shaven, and his gray beard was always full of flour. 
 
 "Well, sir, when I came in with the dough my mother of 
 blessed memory, what cakes she baked! There were no other 
 cakes in all Schwersenz as sweet as those my mother made. 
 
 50
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 The dough was prepared at home, and one of us carried it to the 
 baker. 
 
 "'So, so' this is what Blatt would say. 'Lustig's cake!' 
 Then he would lift the napkin my mother had wrapped around 
 the dough, and look at it as if it were some precious jewel. 'A 
 bunt kuchen this week? The Fritag's, the Grau's, the Solomon's, 
 all bunt kuchen. Last week raisin cakes, this week bunt kuchen. 
 So, So. Schwersenz is richer than Posen. In Posen they eat 
 bread. That's good enough for them. But we Schwersenzers 
 are richer. We eat cake.' 
 
 "He would keep that up all day if you didn't stop him. To 
 get an answer one had to go up to him and pull at his apron. 
 
 "'When will our cakes be ready, Herr Blatt? 1 
 
 "'Ready? Ready? How can I bake your cakes? My 
 oven's hall!' 
 
 "He always told us the same thing his oven was full; so we 
 never paid any attention to him. We didn't care what he said- 
 We boys wanted a piece of cake. 
 
 "'Herr Blatt,' we would say, 'give us a piece of cake.' 
 
 "'So, so. Cake is what you want? Hungry again. I have 
 no cake. I am baking bread. My oven's full of bread. 1 
 
 "'Oh, please, Herr Blatt, give us a piece of cake. We will 
 grease a pan for you; pit raisins; run errands please give us a piece 
 of cake.' 
 
 "But he wouldn't give us anything. He pretended not to 
 hear us and began dancing around the kitchen, throwing a handful 
 of flour into a pan, opening his oven door and squinting his eyes at 
 the things in the oven. 
 
 "We boys, of course, would not leave. If he refused to give 
 us anything, we pulled his apron strings and then said: 
 
 "'Herr Blatt, your apron strings are untied. Give us a piece 
 51
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 of cake, and we will tie your apron strings for you so they will never 
 come untied.' 
 
 "'Some more nonsense. So, so; be gone now, or there will 
 be no Schabbus cake in Schwersenz tonight.' And he would 
 start towards us as if he meant to hit one of us, striking out his 
 arms anywhere. 
 
 "But we were as quick as he. One of us would take a pan 
 and drop it on the floor. He would run and pick it up. Then an- 
 other one would run behind him and untie his apron strings. That 
 would make him angry. 
 
 "'Here, you rascals, take this and leave me.' 
 
 "And he would throw some cookies at us, and off we scamp- 
 ered. 
 
 "That was great fun, boys. What fine cookies they were. 
 Almost as good as those we had after Kiddush. " 
 
 "What was that?" The strange word attracted them, so 
 Lustig explained: 
 
 "In every Jewish home in Schwersenz the father gives Kid- 
 dush. That is a little service at his table to welcome the Sabbath 
 day. About six o'clock in the evening the men and boys of 
 Schwersenz go to Schule, and after Schule we go home for Kiddush. 
 Before we ate our supper my father your grandpa would, after 
 pronouncing the blessing over the wine, as he always did over the 
 bread, give each of us a sip of it. And calling each of his children 
 to his side, he blessed us, putting his hand on our heads, and told 
 us to grow up to be useful men and women. 
 
 That was Kiddush; and then we were ready for supper. 
 By that time we were very hungry. We were always hungry 
 and on Friday night we had a fine supper. My mother would 
 bring in fish and noodles and cakes. Sometimes we would not 
 have enough to eat, but on Friday night we always had a plenty. 
 That was the happiest night in the week. 
 
 52
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 "After supper everyone was feeling first-rate; my father would 
 tell us stories just as I have been telling you. He had so many 
 things to relate about the French soldiers that marched against 
 Moscow when he was a little fellow; stories from the Bible about 
 Abraham, Joseph, Moses, David and Solomon all the great 
 men of Israel. I never forgot them. And other stories 
 from Talmud about the man who slept longer than Rip Van 
 Winkle, and the traveler who walked through a tunnel that was 
 made of the bone of a giant. Oh, what stories he knew! Ah! 
 you should have heard him he could tell stories. 
 
 "Those were great days, boys; we haven't anything like that 
 in America." 
 
 The boys did not understand what their father meant, but he 
 was in the mood for story telling, so they did not interrupt him. 
 No customer came into the store. The dull March afternoon in- 
 vited this diversion. 
 
 "No, sirree! I will never forget Friday nights in Schwersenz. 
 I can now see my father and mother sitting around the table, with 
 all their children about them. On such nights we burned four 
 candles, on other nights one, unless we did without them altogether. 
 On that night we had a snow-white table cloth, other nights we 
 had none. I tell you, boys, we do not know how fortunate we 
 are here in America. Sometimes my father was at his wits end, 
 thinking how he was to buy food for us all. He looked sad and 
 down-hearted. But Friday evenings he was happy, and so was 
 my mother. 
 
 "We never had company on any day of the week but Friday. 
 Once my father brought a young man home from Schule. He 
 was merely a boy. He was tall and curly-headed, with two little 
 curls hanging down the sides of his young boyish face. His eyes 
 were very large and bright. I remember that, because he looked 
 
 53
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 at everyone and smiled and winked his eyes as if he wished to 
 please us. 
 
 "What a surprise he gave us! I'll tell you what he did: 
 "After supper my father asked him to sing, and he did. I 
 have never heard anyone sing better than he, and no wonder. He 
 went to Berlin afterward, and when they heard him they engaged 
 him for the opera. And he afterward became famous. 
 
 "I do not remember all he sang, but this is one of the songs: 
 
 " 'When is the Jew in Paradise, 
 
 Unchained from want and care? 
 When joy wings words of happiness, 
 
 And peace perfumes the air; 
 When is the hour his heart is light, 
 
 And slow he is to grieve? 
 The Jew has but one Paradise, 
 
 And that is Friday eve. 
 
 " 'A noble queen, she comes to bless, 
 
 And bear his cares away. 
 To every home this Princess comes 
 
 And sanctifies the day. 
 The rich and poor, both old and young, 
 
 With gratitude receive 
 The*Sabbath princess of the Jew, 
 
 Their guest of Friday eve. 
 
 sees her face Shekinah-like, 
 
 He lives a hundred years; 
 His children's children bless her name, 
 
 For all that she endears; 
 Her sacred, silent footsteps pass 
 
 Through every heart and leave 
 ATthousand blessings for the joy 
 
 She gives on Friday eve.' 
 
 54
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 "Now, that's all I remember of the song, boys," Lustig hastened 
 to add, in order to keep them from asking him to recite another 
 poem. For he had made no attempt to sing it, but merely repeated 
 the words of the song. 
 
 Finally Gottlieb asked him, after hearing so many stories and 
 adventures of this famous town: "Why did you leave it?" 
 
 That anyone should ever wish to quit this enchanted place 
 passed understanding. 
 
 "Why did I leave?" Lustig laughed. "To make a living, 
 boys; to make a living. Ah! Schwersenz is a good place to be 
 bom in, but not to stay in." 
 
 They did not comprehend this, as he soon realized by the 
 blank look on their faces. 
 
 "This is how I left Schwersenz, boys," he said slowly. "The 
 day after my Barmitzvah that is, when I was thirteen years old 
 my father said; 'Hyman' that was my name in the old country 
 'Hyman, now it is rime for you to go to work and earn your own 
 living like a man.' 
 
 "So he took me to Jacob Solomon, the tailor, and Mr. Solomon 
 engaged me to leam the tailoring business. He gave me a needle 
 and thread and a place to get on his working table, and told me 
 to watch him. That's the way I began my trade. After I had 
 been with him a few years he told me it was time to start on my 
 apprentice journeys. Every mechanic in Germany travels about 
 the country and works under different bosses, so as to leam the best 
 methods of the trade. Well, when I was ready, I tied my clothes 
 in a bundle and told my father and mother I was ready to leave 
 home." 
 
 I called on all my friends and bade them farewell. I had to 
 see everybody I said good-by to Schayah; to crazy Carrie; to 
 Moishe Stumm, the goose-herdsman; to Leiser Lesser, the fiddler; 
 to Moritz Blatt, the baker; to Mr. Grau; to Mr. Fritag, to Mendel 
 
 55
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 and Morris Lesser, and to Adolph Rich to every boy and girl in 
 town. I said good-bye to everyone and everybody said good-bye 
 to me. One gave me a necktie, another a pair of stockings, one 
 made a cake, and one little girl whose name was Rosalia" 
 
 "That's mamma's name, papa," Gottlieb promptly interrupted. 
 
 "Yes, I know that," Lustig said, pleasantly. "Well, this 
 little girl named Rosalia gave me a bouquet, and I kept that bouquet 
 pressed in my coat pocket for years. 
 
 "When the hour came for me to leave home, my mother kissed 
 me and then cried and kissed me again and again: 'My son, I am 
 your mother. I gave you life. Now I send you into the world. 
 Be kind, be honest, be industrious, and the Lord will never forsake 
 you. This is your mother's blessing.' 
 
 "Well, sir, she cried; I cried. My younger brothers and 
 sisters, seeing all of us in tears, wept also, and then my father took 
 me by the hand and we started out." 
 
 "Didn't you take the cars?" they asked. 
 
 "No, no. There were no cars in those days. We walked. 
 My father led me down the street. Everybody came to wave 
 good-bye and wish me good fortune. I crossed the market square 
 where I had played so many times; passed the old pump where I 
 had filled so many buckets of water passed all the houses of the 
 street. And I tell you when I came to the last house and knew 
 that I was going out of Schwersenz, my heart sank and I could 
 hardly walk. My father was at my side. He never said a word 
 till we came to the Jewish burial ground just outside of the town on 
 the Posen road. Then he stopped. 
 
 "'This is as far as I can go with you, my son. I have started 
 you on your way. Now you must go alone. 1 He kissed me and 
 began to cry. 
 
 56
 
 IN SCHWERSENZ 
 
 "When I saw him weep, I knew he felt bad. I began to feel 
 weak and my knees shook. I turned pale, so I suppose, and the 
 cold sweat stood on my forehead. I used to think it was fun to go 
 away from home. Now that I was actually going, I felt sorry. 
 I wished I could turn back and never leave. But it was too late. 
 I must make my own living in the world. 
 
 "My father soon dried his tears, and, taking me by the hand, 
 looked me straight in the eyes. 'Hyman, 1 he said, solemnly, 'your 
 father is a very poor man. Little has he been able to give you. 
 All that he gave you was the blessing of a good name. I can ask 
 nothing of you; I want nothing of you but that you grow up to be 
 a useful man. Be honest. Never despise hard work, and never 
 forget that you are a Jew. 1 
 
 "'Here,' and he pointed to the old Jewish burial ground; 
 'here is where your grandparents rest, and here, in God's good 
 time, am I to rest. These men and women were Jews, and lived 
 honest, frugal, industrious lives. That is all I can ask of you. Now, 
 good-bye, my son. The Lord bless you and keep you. 1 
 
 "Then he turned around and walked back to town. I stood 
 awhile and watched him. He never looked back, but kept on 
 till he turned around the corner and was gone. I walked onward 
 awhile, then stopped and looked back. I could see a cluster of 
 houses that was Schwersenz. Before me I saw the tops of build- 
 ings rising above the wall surrounding Posen. I stood midway 
 between Schwersenz and Posen. Of course, I was young; I didn't 
 know what it meant. But I felt very lonely and more like crying 
 than going to Posen. 
 
 "Pretty soon I started to walk again, walking as fast as I could; 
 and then I stopped and looked back again for the last time. I 
 could see no more of Schwersenz. I was alone in the world. A 
 little later I passed through the gates of Posen to find the man I 
 was to work for. 
 
 57
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "That's how I left Schwersenz. I went back there once to 
 bid my parents good-bye when I started for Berlin. After that I 
 never again saw my parents nor Schwersenz." 
 
 58
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 TRUMMER. 
 
 The Lustigs were the only Jewish people in Canaway, but 
 by no means were they lonesome. On the contrary, their friends 
 and acquaintances were many. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb had many playmates. Every boy liv- 
 ing on Bristol street was glad to come and play with them. Boys 
 in country towns have a habit of wandering about from street to 
 street in search of one another, but Gottlieb and Ludwig had no 
 need to do this. Instead, their playmates always came to their 
 house and played in the back yard. This the boys liked to do 
 because there were many dry goods boxes kept in the yard. With 
 these boxes the boys made huts and forts to play in; here they 
 could hammer, saw and dig. Indeed, great and joyous was their 
 sport. 
 
 Mrs Lustig, too, made friends with her neighbors. Both 
 Mrs. Ashley and Mrs. Mutchler were her intimate friends and with 
 either she exchanged pies and cakes after the manner of housewives. 
 Whenever Mrs. Lustig cooked sweet-sour fish, a hitherto un- 
 known delicacy in Canaway, every woman on Bristol street had a 
 sample of it and voiced the praise of the giver's ability to cook. 
 
 And Herman Lustig was well known in Canaway. Along 
 Canaway Lake, over in Cheshire, through Bristol and throughout 
 the Middlesex Valley every farmer, grape grower, stage driver and 
 farmhand knew "Dutch Herman" (as he was called by the Ameri- 
 cans), the proprietor of the Rochester Clothing Store. 
 
 59
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 Lustig's store was, in fact, the headquarters of every German 
 farmer in the vineyard district of Canaway Lake and Naples. 
 Whenever the farmers came to town they stepped into Lustig's, 
 whether to make a purchase or not. There they left their bundles 
 and sometimes their wives and babies while attending to matters 
 that called them elsewhere. 
 
 Not only was Lustig their clothing merchant, but he was also 
 their amanuensis, their letter writer, their lawyer, their banker. 
 To him they brought their immigrant relatives to be newly clothed 
 for their adventures in America. From him the townfolk bought 
 their wedding suits, confirmation suits for their boys and girls, and, 
 alas, after the manner of all things human, they bought the clothes 
 in which to dress their beloved dead. 
 
 That he was a German and called Germany his fatherland 
 was sufficient to make him a countryman to all his German com- 
 patriots, albeit, Posen and the Rhinegegand are far apart. He 
 would tell the farmers the local news, forecast the weather, inquire 
 about the crops, and, if necessary, advise in matters of business. 
 
 Popular as he was among the farmers, he was equally so with 
 the townfolk of Canaway. With his wife he attended all church 
 fairs, lodge dances and masquerades. Whenever Father English, 
 the pastor of St, Mary's, the Catholic Church, held a bazaar for 
 the benefit of the parish, Herman Lustig was sure to open it or to 
 award the prizes. Whenever one of the Protestant churches held 
 a chicken or turkey or oyster supper Mr. and Mrs. Lustig were 
 accorded the seat of honor at the table, which is at the right hand of 
 the pastor. In town or in the neighboring country villages Lustig 
 was never forgotten whenever something unusual happened, such 
 as the dedication of a church or the installation of a new minister. 
 To attend these events he often had to ride many miles, but never- 
 theless he always made it his business to attend. When the Lu- 
 theran Church was dedicated at Bristol Springs Lustig was among 
 
 60
 
 TRUMMER 
 
 the distinguished guests, which included the noted German divines 
 of Naples, Bristol Center and Cheshire. 
 
 In a word, Herman Lustig was everybody's friend among the 
 farmers of Ontario County and the townfolk of Canaway. 
 
 But in Canaway there was an inner special circle. This was 
 recruited from among the^German population of the village. Every 
 evening in summer or winter the select few came to Lustig's store 
 to talk over politics, religion and the drift of events in the old country. 
 
 They were a merry set and bantered and joked one another 
 good naturedly until they were weary. Not an evening of the week 
 days passed without a visit from Gabriel Sinlaf, the local beer 
 agent for the Rochester breweries; Henry Mutchler, the butcher; 
 Jacob Metzger, the harnessmaker; Leopold Linther, the upholsterer, 
 or Trummer, the shoemaker. 
 
 These men, with the exception of Trummer, were only Lustig's 
 friends, but Trummer, however, was also the friend of Gottlieb 
 and Ludwig. 
 
 No one knew Trummer by any other name. He had none. 
 To each and to all he was just simply Trummer, a small, slight 
 undersized man, shy and reticent. His face was one of the hatch- 
 et sort and came to a sharp point at the end of his chin. He wore 
 a mustache which was never trimmed, and during the winter 
 months he grew a beard that was likewise neglected. 
 
 Every week day evening at about the same hour he stepped 
 into Lustig's store, lighted his black, smoke-stained clay pipe, 
 read a German newspaper and said nothing. Seldom, and then 
 only when appealed to in the heat of a controversy would he 
 speak. One subject, and only one, forced him to talk, and that was 
 when the nationality of his country was in question. 
 
 On that subject he was not a man of few words, but an orator 
 defending the lost cause of a united Poland. 
 
 Lustig had known him many years, and in all that time had 
 
 61
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 never heard a word of complaint from him. All the information 
 which Trummer's friends obtained concerning his career, ances- 
 try, education and ambitions came in his outburst of oratory. 
 
 In such excited moments he had related about his forefathers, 
 who were nobles driven from their estates by the allied armies of 
 Germany, Austria and Russia, by which countries Poland was 
 shared as if it were a piece of cake. 
 
 "Oh, my country, my country!" he would moan. "I have no 
 fatherland now. We are not Germans, we are Poles. We are 
 not Austrians or Russians, we are Poles. Some good day God 
 will restore our fatherland. Wait!" 
 
 But it was not as a defender of a lost nationality that he was 
 especially endeared to the boys. They were attached to him for 
 very good reasons from a boy's point of view. In the first place, 
 Trummer was the only shoemaker in Canaway who cut a square 
 hole in the heels of their shoes in which to fit the knob of the half- 
 club skate. 
 
 And then again, when work was slack, Trummer would tell 
 the boys some wonderful stories, not only about his own experience, 
 but also about what he had either read or heard. 
 
 All that Gottlieb and Ludwig knew of his life was his arrival 
 in Canaway, and that they never forgot because they witnessed 
 it themselves. 
 
 One afternoon in March on their way home from school, they 
 stepped into the store just as Pat Doyle, the town constable, was 
 leading their father out. The town constable was a person to fear, 
 and the boys were at the point of crying when he quieted their 
 apprehension by inviting them to come along with him and he 
 would show them something. 
 
 There they found Trummer. It seems he had stopped in 
 Canaway because he had no money to go further, and, having 
 
 62
 
 TRIMMER 
 
 been unable to make himself understood to the officer, he was 
 arrested, and Lustig was called upon to act as interpreter. 
 
 The latter spoke to him in German, which Trummer under- 
 stood perfectly, and then to convince the stranger that he was 
 among human beings Lustig spoke a few Polish words to him. 
 The officer being satisfied that his prisoner was a harmless fellow, 
 released him forthwith. Lustig set him up in business; that is, he 
 furnished rooms and gave him money for present needs and for 
 tools and materials. 
 
 His shop was over Lustig's store, a small front room facing 
 Main street. In another room back of that and adjoining it he 
 cooked and slept. For a table he used dry goods boxes, and for 
 a bed an old second-hand couch. Here he lived an indrawn, 
 solitary life, boarding himself and repairing shoes. He was a 
 stranger in a strange land, and had only one friend, Herman Lustig. 
 whose attachment for him was due to the fact that both hailed from 
 the Province of Posen. 
 
 A hall opening on Main street led up to Trammer's shop' 
 The stairs were narrow and dirty. At one side of the doorway* 
 nailed against the building was a board sign on which Lustig had 
 painted with what artistic skill an untrained hand could evoke, the 
 outlines of a boot and the still cruder form of a shoe. Under these 
 craft emblems were the following words: 
 
 BOOTS AND SHOES REPAIRED. UP STAIRS. 
 
 Within a short time all Canaway knew of the new arrival, and 
 those who were interested enough to inquire learned that the new 
 cobbler's name was Trummer. Little more than this nobody 
 knew. Where he had hailed from, where his parents lived, if he 
 had any; what his plans and purposes were, who his noble ances- 
 tors might be, no one, not even Lustig, knew. Trummer never 
 
 63
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 enlightened Lustig nor his circle of friends, and they, to return the 
 compliment, never asked him. 
 
 His family history was not of special interest to the boys. 
 Whenever they had any shoes to repair they would run up to his 
 shop, being glad to get the chance to put him in an amiable mood. 
 
 "Tell us a story, Mr. Trummer," Ludwig would say, as he 
 handed him his shoes. While examining them critically Trummer 
 would answer: "I do not know any stories." Then, setting the 
 shoes aside, he would continue the task in hand. 
 
 "Yes, you do," the boys would persist. "You once told 
 us one." 
 
 "I am too busy now. Leave me alone. I am fixing a pair 
 of boots for Sheriff Boswell. I can't tell you a story when I am so 
 busy." They would both urge and tease, and finally, brushing 
 the scraps of leather from his apron he would yield to their entreaties, 
 but on one condition: They must not ask him to tell them another 
 story. 
 
 This, of course, they promised. 
 
 "I can't stay awake all night like King Frederick, telling you 
 stories." 
 
 "Who was King Frederick?" both asked at once. 
 
 "Ach, I am so busy; another time. 1 
 
 "No, now, Trummer. Please tell us." 
 
 And finding a comfortable seat on a box they were ready to 
 listen. 
 
 "Frederick the Great," so Trummer began, "had many strange 
 notions. He thought himself very wise and always made friends 
 with the learned men. One day he heard a professor lecture on 
 sleep. This professor said men waste all their lives in sleeping. 
 They sleep at night; they sleep during the day, and they would 
 sleep all day were it not necessary to earn a living. Sleep is a fool- 
 ishness. Men ought to invent a medicine to prevent sleep. Child- 
 
 64
 
 TRUMMER 
 
 ren and babies and old people can afford to sleep, but not kings. 
 
 "This pleased Great Frederick. He thought he would find 
 a way to prevent sleep and show the professor how to do it. 
 
 "So that night when everybody was ready to go to bed he 
 had his coachman saddle his swift horse, and, putting on old 
 clothes to disguise himself, so that none of his subjects could re- 
 cognize him, he set out alone on the highway. Everybody was 
 asleep. It was so still one could hear the horse as he galloped 
 along the road. 
 
 "When he had been on his way a few hours he met some men 
 returning from a wedding feast. They had been drinking more 
 wine than was good for them, and so were very noisy, singing and 
 shouting as loud as they could. 
 
 "'See here, 1 said the king as he rode up to them, 'you are mak- 
 ing too much noise. With your singing you will disturb the good 
 people who are asleep. 1 
 
 "'No one hears us, brother,' they said, not knowing the stranger 
 on horseback was the king. 'Suppose some one does hear us, 
 they will know that we are returning from a wedding feast. If 
 they have been invited they will join our chorus. If they have not 
 been they will tell us to go on. But what's the use of sleeping? 
 Sleep is good for babies and old women. We don't believe in 
 sleep. While we live, we live. When we are dead, let us sleep.' 
 
 "This pleased the king very much. 'I perceive, he said, that 
 you are wise men. I do not myself believe in sleep.' 
 
 "He wished to compliment them, but they were afraid of him 
 now. 'Don't you know,' the spokesman said, 'that the king does 
 not like to have men on the highway late at night? Who are you, 
 brother?' 
 
 "'I am a merchant on my way to Dresden. But tell me, 
 brothers, what think you of our king? Is he not a wise man?' 
 
 "'What have you to do with the king? Tell him that you are 
 65
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 on your way to Dresden where they make china dolls as strong as 
 soldiers and he will decorate you.' 
 
 "The king galloped off, laughing at what he heard. 
 
 "All that night he rode around the country, and early the next 
 morning returned to his palace and began his day's work. 
 
 "On the following night he rode out again, going in another 
 direction. But he did not feel as lively as he had on the night 
 before. He was so tired that his bones ached. Even a king's 
 bones sometimes ache, you see; and besides he felt dizzy. But 
 spurring his horse he rode faster, and gradually, unknown to him- 
 self, he fell into a doze and finally fell asleep." 
 
 "On horseback?" Ludwig interrupted. 
 
 "On horseback," Trummer repeated soberly. "That's true. 
 Soldiers have been found standing guard fast asleep. Men have 
 fallen asleep marching. Men have fallen asleep on horseback 
 that's true," he remarked emphatically. 
 
 "And so it was with King Frederick. He was fast asleep on 
 his horse. 
 
 "Now, a horse, when no one guides it, goes anywhere, and at 
 night follows the road till it comes to a bam. And the king's 
 horse jogged on till it came to an open bam door and then in it 
 walked and stood in an empty stall. The horse and rider remained 
 there till the farmer came to the bam early the next morning." 
 
 "What did the farmer see: 1 " Gottlieb anxiously asked. 
 
 "He found a strange horse in the stall and a man astride on 
 the strange horse. When the farmer saw this he ran out, yelling to 
 arouse his neighbors. 
 
 "'The Evil One is in my barn,' he shouted, "the Evil One. 
 Half man, half horse.* 
 
 "The farmers, hearing his frantic cries, came rushing to his 
 aid. Some brought guns, others lances, and all had stones or 
 sticks in their hands. 
 
 66
 
 TRUMMER 
 
 "When they arrived at the barn the bravest one walked in to 
 see what kind of a creature the Evil One was. 
 
 "He walked in slowly. Every one stood ready to commence 
 an assault on the Evil One should he suddenly rush out. But he 
 didn't rush out. Instead, out came the farmer laughing. 'Why, 
 he said 'it's a man asleep on horseback. An elegant gentlemen, 
 too, who has lost his way. 1 
 
 "But the other farmers, those who stood outside, filled with 
 fear, would not believe their neighbor. 'No, no.' they shouted. 
 'It is a devil come to destroy us for our sins. Send for the pastor 
 to absolve us, lest we die.' 
 
 "'Come, come,' said a wise farmer; 'let us deal sensibly. If 
 it be a man asleep on horseback, as our good neighbor claims- 
 he will wake. If it be the Evil One, let us bind him with ropes and 
 take him to the king for a gift.' 
 
 "Thereupon, they all began to shout and make a loud noise. 
 The horse took fright at this and shook the king off his back. 
 
 "The king fell to the floor of the stall in a heap. All gathered 
 about him suspiciously to see what sort of a creature he was. They 
 poked him, shook him, and shouted in his ears. Finally he awoke- 
 
 "'What is this? I am the king! Who dare disturb my sleep?" 
 
 "'The king! Our King Frederick!' they yelled in derision. 
 The fellow's crazy. Tie him up and take him to the village 
 pastor. Some evil spirit has possessed him. The king does not 
 sleep in bams.' 
 
 "'Here, you farmers; do you not know your own King Frede- 
 rick?' 
 
 'You take his name in vain,' angrily they shouted back. 
 
 "'I am the king. Come wth me to my palace, and I will give 
 each a gold piece and a medal. Then, indeed, will you know 
 that I am king!' 
 
 "By this time the village pastor arrived, and to him the king 
 67
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 was compelled to explain his adventures how, trying to overcome 
 sleep he had ridden two nights without closing his eyes, and, 
 finally, exhausted by the effort, had fallen asleep while on his horse. 
 
 "'Oh, 1 the pastor moaned, 'I have found how the king tries 
 to put God aside. Now I am sure the king is tempting the 
 Almighty.' 
 
 "This is no place to deliver a sermon, 1 the king exclaimed in 
 anger. 'Come to my palace and hold forth to your heart's content.' 
 
 "So the king was compelled to ride back to his great palace 
 in Berlin with the farmers and the village pastor. When the 
 party reached the palace they were met by all the soldiers and 
 servants, who bowed before his Majesty; and then it was that the 
 country folks realized that it was the king whom they had found in 
 the barn. An apology they humbly offered for their harsh words 
 and for the ill-treatment they had given the king, and begged him 
 to spare their lives, as they were innocent of any intent to do wrong. 
 
 "The king was wise. He gave each a gold piece, as he had 
 promised; also a medal and a bottle of French wine. He sent 
 them home, happy and astonished. 
 
 "But you can bet he never tried the trick again." 
 
 With this brief comment, Trummer picked up the shoe he had 
 been repairing and dismissed the boys with the warning never to 
 bother him again. 
 
 Hurrying down stairs they ran into their father's store and told 
 him briefly but with much joy the wonderful tale which Trummer 
 related. 
 
 "Ah, yes," Lustig would say, "Trummer knows many stories. 
 He is educated." 
 
 Acting on this hint, the boys entreated the cobbler for a story 
 whenever they had the chance whether on the street or in their 
 father's store. 
 
 "I do not know any more stories," Trummer would say, slyly, 
 68
 
 TRIMMER 
 
 re-lighting his pipe or turning to his paper, if he had happened to 
 be in his store. 
 
 "Yes, you do," the boys persisted. "You told us one." 
 
 "Some day," he mumbled over the edge of his newspaper. 
 But that day was far off. 
 
 Spring came, and then summer. There were circuses in town- 
 a fireman's parade, the county fair, the annual Methodist camp- 
 meeting, and finally Thanksgiving, and the first heavy snow of the 
 winter. The ice was now thickening on the creeks and the boys 
 were beginning to skate. 
 
 With pairs of heavy winter shoes in their hands, the boys 
 trudged into Trummer's shop to have the hole cut in the heel for the 
 skate, and then with all the frankness of boys who insist on their 
 rights, they demanded of Trummer to tell them another story. 
 
 "Ach, I don't know any stories," he snapped, picking up the 
 shoes they brought him. Now leave me alone. I must finish 
 this job," 
 
 "You know lots of stories, "Gottlieb insisted. "Just tell us one." 
 
 He stared sharply at them. "If you never bother me again, 
 I will recite you a piece I once learned in a gymnasium." 
 
 "Oh, we recite pieces, Trummer," the boys said, familiarly, 
 "every Friday in school." 
 
 "In my country, the gymnasium is a school for boys." 
 
 They seated themselves on a roll of leather and prepared to 
 listen. To their utter astonishment, Trummer arose, untied his 
 soiled apron-string and laid it aside, unrolled his shirt sleeves, 
 buttoned the cuffs and put on hi* coat. 
 
 "A man must dress properly when he recites," he told the boys, 
 by the way of an explanation. "This is a ballad about a Jewish 
 poet. Let me explain. In olden times poets would travel from 
 place to place, reciting their poems and singing the songs they com- 
 posed. Once a year they would hold a sort of a fair, as we do 
 
 69
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 here in Canaway, and each one would sing a song, or recite a piece, 
 as you do in school. He who had the prettiest song, or the finest 
 poem, received a wreath of flowers. This Jewish poet was named 
 Susskind, and he lived in a town called Trimberg in Bavaria. 
 Listen! I will now give you the ballad of Susskind of Trimberg. 
 Straightening himself up, Trummer recited with gusto this ballad: 
 
 THE TROUBADOUR JEW. 
 
 Now into the high hall the proud poets troop, 
 
 From the tiled palace court in old Trimberg, the town, 
 And with light, gallant mien the courtiers stoop 
 
 In their bows to the dames, all of fairest renown. 
 And the flicker of gaiety brightens the room, 
 
 For it gleams like their jewels and silken brocade; 
 While the clanking of swords and of stirrups consume 
 
 Half the love-doting sallies of matron and maid. 
 
 This is an occasion when rhymers appear 
 
 To vie in a tourney of ballad and song, 
 And the revelry hushes the Judges are here 
 
 Till the stillness of evening broods over the throng. 
 For each bard, in his place, is awaiting his cue, 
 
 To arouse the applause of the court and its train, 
 And he hums in his heart just a stanza or two 
 
 Of the rhymes he had wrought at the beck of his Thane. 
 
 First they called on the bard whose sweet minne-songs led, 
 
 Many sore-footed pilgrims in quest of the grail, 
 And he rises with honor, a crown on his head, 
 
 And sings well of castle's defense and assail. 
 Then to love-winning eyes of his lady he turns, 
 
 And reverts to a knight who had led every quest 
 In the siege of her heart; for whose conquest he yearns, 
 
 As a monk yearns in prayer for the joys of the blest. 
 
 70
 
 THE TROUBADOUR JEW 
 
 of lovt. that ,houU ylaJJen all times, and that to 
 of ,l,r law ,,f my ,,r,,."
 
 TRIMMER 
 
 He ceased, and the plaudits arose to the roof, 
 
 And around the vast hall rolled his praise and his name; 
 Lifted up in his pride, from the fellows aloof, 
 
 He gives them a challenge to mount to his fame. 
 Almost heavy of heart, then the next poet sings 
 
 The song he has woven to dazzle the court, 
 Tho* deftly he wakens the musical strings, 
 
 Till his harp and his voice in one rapture disport. 
 
 Each poet wins favor, delightfully heard; 
 
 All the knights and ladies are brave in their praise 
 Of the favorite tune, or the apt chosen word, 
 
 In the rollicking troubadour's spirited lays. 
 But now one unhearlded bard is espied, 
 
 Lately shunned with a growl by the insolent crew, 
 And, stung by his daring in crossing their pride, 
 
 They hotly demanded: "What ho! hear the Jew!" 
 
 Full proudly he arose when he thus was proclaimed, 
 Good Susskind of Trimberg, the troubadour Jew; 
 
 Standing calmly before them, unknown, unashamed, 
 He would lift their disdain as the sun lifts the dew. 
 
 But becalmed and at gaze, like a couchant wild beast, 
 Ere it lept unaware on its innocent prey, 
 
 And inwardly chafed that he came to their feast 
 
 Angry and silent and scornful were they. 
 
 "My song is of love, that should gladden all times, 
 
 And that love is the book of the law of my sires. 
 We have wandered with this through the seasons and climes, 
 
 Long ago by the Rhine we enkindled our fire?. 
 We were here when the eagles of Rome were elate; 
 
 We encamped amid desolate ruins and mounds. 
 So of Trimbere I sing, and the woods of the state, 
 
 Of Bavaria loved, and what in it abounds. 
 
 71
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "Before German was, then my fathers were here, 
 
 And they sang of a peace that was sweeter than wine. 
 With the harp that was David's, and not with the spear, 
 
 They greeted the vales of the Saale and the Rhine. 
 Oh, this land is my country, these forests my home! 
 
 Here my altars of praise and of household were set. 
 Overflowing with love of my townsmen, I come, 
 
 Aad I offer a friendship that none shall regret. 
 
 "Give me heed now, ye bards; for like Walter I sing, 
 
 And a troubadour's mate is a good man and just. 
 All the children of men are controlled by one King, 
 
 And He fathers the living and those in the dust. 
 Your songs are of bloodshed, and bloodshed is death; 
 
 Sing ye rather the rich who are friends to the poor. 
 My songs are of peace, and have balm in their breath. 
 
 That should soothe afflictions that many endure. 
 
 "And ye who exult in the pride of your sires, 
 Ye prize not, ye heed not, the greeting I bring. 
 
 Ye can only think scorn of my kindly desires, 
 And would silence my lays when my heart bids me sing. 
 
 Made a stranger and outcast, as are each of my folk, 
 
 S Is there aught that ye know for which I can atone? 
 
 Must the woes of my father be also my yoke 
 As I pass in and out here, scarce noticed, alone?" 
 
 But the court, in its festal and splendid array, 
 
 Was devoid of reply, though touched to the core; 
 And, seemingly deaf to his resonant lay, 
 
 They saw him bow low and pass out of the door. 
 With a heart that was sad, he strode forth from the gate 
 
 Of the town that he loved, into woodland and glen, 
 This minstrel of Judah, elected by fate 
 
 To sing a new song to the children of men. 
 
 72
 
 TRUMMER 
 
 O Susskind of Trimberg! O troubadour Jew! 
 
 The harp that was David's was held in thy hand! 
 And the words thou hast chanted, tho' broken and few, 
 
 Have sustained us and cheered us in far distant lands. 
 Praise for Susskind, his country beloved as his home, 
 
 And for neighbors and kinsfolk all people are one. 
 The Father who formed us, to all does he come, 
 
 And His blessing abides where a good deed is done. 
 
 The boys were scarcely aware he had finished the ballad, 
 when he seated himself and, holding his face in his hands, began 
 to moan. 
 
 "Ah, dear; my country, my country!" Trummer cried. "I 
 shall never see my country again. I am here in America. God 
 bless America!" 
 
 "Did you like the piece, boys?" he asked, brightening and 
 rising from his bench. "I recited that once at home many, many 
 years ago." 
 
 "When we are big we will speak a long piece," Gottlieb 
 assured him. 
 
 "That is right. Now, go downstairs." 
 
 They rose reluctantly and stood by the door, unwilling to 
 leave. Trummer took off his coat, put on his apron, rolled up his 
 shirt sleeves, and started to work. "What is the matter now?" he 
 asked, seeing the boys still standing there. "Another story again? 
 Ach, my! Leave me alone now. I must earn my living." 
 
 "We didn't say 'Thank you, 1 Frummer. Mamma says we 
 must thank you whenever you tell us a story." 
 
 "Say 'Thank you, then,' and go." 
 
 When they rushed into their father's store, Lustig wondered 
 what had happened. They were very much excited. 
 
 "Papa," Ludwig began, "Trummer recited a piece about a 
 73
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 minstrel man who lived in Germany, and, papa, he didn't make 
 one mistake, and he talked just like a teacher." 
 
 *Ach!" Lustig answered, "didn't I tell you Trummer was 
 educated?" 
 
 Very little happened thereafter to distinguish Trummer in 
 their eyes until he bought an accordion. This- odd musical in- 
 strument gave him so much amusement that Lustig wondered what 
 charm was to be found in it. Trummer devoted his spare time to 
 practicing. Instead of spending the evening hours reading his 
 newspaper in Lustig's store.he remained in his shop, playing odd 
 tunes; sometimes airs familiar to Lusitg and then some weird things 
 which Lustig told his German friends were Polish wedding-songs. 
 
 Canaway soon became acquainted with the accordion. Late 
 at night, especially on moonlight nights, Trummer would march 
 down Main street towards the lake, playing the accordion as he 
 walked. And the people of Canaway who lived on that street, 
 as well as those in adjacent streets, hearing the soft notes floating 
 out on the still air, would say: "There goes Trummer," and forget to 
 talk about the music. 
 
 The accordion, however, was the beginning of the end of his 
 stay in Canaway. He came less and less to Lustig's store; and 
 sometimes for weeks no one would see him except on moonlight 
 nights when he walked down the street towards the lake. But 
 one evening this route was changed. It was now the latter part of 
 August. The evenings were growing longer. At nightfall, while 
 the main street was still illuminated by the lights in the store win- 
 dows, Trummer commenced to play as he reached the dwelling 
 houses on Main street. Some people who were sitting on their 
 front porches stopped their talk to listen. Some sweet, soft air 
 fell from the instrument, which Trummer did not vary, but played 
 again and again. To the lake he walked, then back, and com- 
 
 74
 
 TRIMMER 
 
 pletely around the town. All around the outskirts of Canaway he 
 walked, playing the tune, and where he went after that nobody 
 kncv/s to this day. 
 
 75
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A RURAL PURIM. 
 
 It was a father's natural desire to please his sons that led Her- 
 man Lustig to relate so many captivating tales of his birthplace, 
 Schwersenz. He had no better means of entertaining them than 
 to describe some peculiar person; or to relate an incident that hap- 
 pened in his boyhood, and the sons were always well pleased. So 
 frequently had he referred to this hamlet in eastern Prussia, and so 
 many incidents seemed to have occured there, that the boys regarded 
 it as a place enchanted, or one created for the sole purpose of afford- 
 ing people opportunities to do many odd and laughable things. 
 
 Their own town, Canaway, in western New York, was less 
 romantic. In Canaway there was no street, as there was in Sch- 
 wersenz, where the geese walked barefoot. There was not in 
 Canaway a local "hobo" like Schayah, who presented himself at 
 the rear door of wealthy residences schnorring (begging) pennies 
 to buy his Sabbath noodle-soup. And then, what boy in Canaway 
 dared to play so many exciting pranks as their own father had done 
 in the Fatherland? Where were the boys to pull feathers from a 
 bed-tick and feed them to the burgomeister's goat? There was 
 no burgomeister (mayor) in Canaway, and had there been, no one 
 would have been brave enough to give his goat anything less 
 nutritious than newspapers or tin cans. 
 
 But in Schwersenz all these things were possible. At an 
 early age boys began their pranks, and Lustig himself confessed 
 that he celebrated his learning to walk by slipping from his mother's 
 arms to play tick-tack on the front window of the Schammes' house. 
 
 76
 
 A RURAL PURIM 
 
 But there was no Schammes in Canavvay, and the most fun the 
 village youngsters had was on circus day and the Fourth of July. 
 
 In Schwersenz every day was a holiday at least that was 
 the impression Lustig gave his sons. 
 
 With a flourish of imagination he adorned every tale. Every 
 happening in Canaway reminded him of something in his native 
 town. A runaway recalled a similar accident, in which some 
 intimate friend lost either a basket of Pesach (Passover) eggs, or a 
 corn-fed goose. An Irish wedding recalled a Polish nuptial in 
 which Leiser Lesser, the famous funmaker and the fiddler of the 
 place, played the dance music and cracked the jokes. Little hap- 
 pened in this western New York town, no matter what it was, 
 that had not already occured in Schwersenz. 
 
 Gottlieb and Ludwig enjoyed these tales. Of all the favors 
 they received, they appreciated most a story, and they frequently 
 urged their father to tell them one. On a rainy Sunday afternoon, 
 Lustig would accordingly relate some experience, enlarging or 
 adorning it, as occasion required. But on the eve of every Jewish 
 holiday the boys were certain to hear from their father some lively 
 narrative connected with the festival, and they would learn how 
 their parents celebrated the holiday in the old country. 
 
 On such evenings Lustig would remain at home, instead of 
 going to his store, as country mechants are in the habit of doing, 
 and he would amuse his boys by describing the religious service 
 in his parent's home, or in the synagogue. On such occasions he 
 was always in a merry mood. In that happy frame of mind he 
 entered at the front door one pleasant evening in March, and called 
 his boys, who instantly trooped to his side, and giving a hearty 
 greeting to his wife, who was preparing supper, he said: 
 
 "Boys, tonight is Purim. " 
 
 "What is Purim?" asked Ludwig. 
 77
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "Don't you remember the story of Queen Esther and the villain, 
 Hainan?" he asked, with feigned amazement. 
 
 "That's the time the Persians wanted to kill all the Jews, and 
 Esther, the queen, saved them. Boys, have you forgotten the 
 story?" 
 
 Tell us abut Schwersenz," Gottlieb interrupted, not a whit 
 interested in the Purim story. 
 
 Lustig laughed. "So Schwersenz is funnier than Purim!" 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed Ludwig. "Tell us about that fellow Scha- 
 yah!" 
 
 "Oh, leave him alone," said Lustig, "when the poor man is 
 saving his appetite for the Purim cakes." 
 
 "What did he do on Purim?" Gottlieb asked. 
 
 "Oh, that was the time Schayah stayed at home, picking the 
 raisins out of his cakes," Lustig told them, seating himself at the 
 head of the table. "Purim was made for boys, and that was the 
 time we had our fun." 
 
 They gazed at him expectantly. 
 
 "Tell us what you did," they begged. 
 
 "Well, we boys used to dress up and go masquerading from 
 house to house, making the people guess our names. At every 
 place we went they gave us something. We used to go to the 
 rich ones first. They always gave us a penny. Then we went 
 to the others, and they would hand cakes to us, just like those that 
 mamma bakes Purim cakes, with raisins and almonds in them. 
 I never ate any cake that tasted so sweet, and the raisins-but they 
 have no such raisins these days!" 
 
 The boys listened open-mouthed, but his wife understood 
 well enough his reference to the poverty of East Prussian towns. 
 
 "Did you do anything?" asked Gottlieb, mysteriously, un- 
 moved by his father's thoughtful look. 
 
 "Why, we sang and danced," Lustig answered. First we 
 78
 
 A RURAL PURIM 
 
 knocked on the front door, giving it such a bang that you would 
 think we were trying to break it. To whomever came to the door 
 we would sing: 
 
 " 'Come, good people, and open the door! 
 
 Open it wider than ever before! 
 Today is Purim, tomorrow it's done; 
 
 Give us a gift, and away we run!' " 
 
 "Did you really sing that?" the boys asked, timidly. 
 
 "Sing it!" echoed their father: "we shouted it! We yelled it 
 so loudly that all the house heard us, and ran to the door. In we 
 would rush, scatter about the room, and everyone there would try 
 to guess who we were. 
 
 1 'That's Wolff Lustig's boy,' one would say. 
 
 " 'Nope!' I would shout; 'it isn't Lustig's son. Guess again.' 
 
 ' 'Then Gabriel Lesser, the glazier's son. 1 
 
 " 'Nope!' said Adolph Rich. 
 
 "Then they said I was Moishe Hertz, Mendel Lesser, Jacob 
 Harris, Moritz Lazarus, and named other boys of the town. Of 
 course, we wouldn't tell, and the more they guessed the louder we 
 sang: 
 
 " 'Guess, good people, guess again; 
 
 Perhaps you'll name us if you can; 
 Today is Purim, tomorrow it's done; 
 
 Give us a gift, and away we run.' " 
 
 Gottlieb and Ludwig were so absorbed in this story, and Lud. 
 wig himself was so animated, that the victuals cooled on their 
 plates. 
 
 "After that, what would you do?" asked the boys. 
 
 "If they couldn't guess, we would join hands and circle about 
 79
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 the room, kicking and jumping, scaring girls by sticking out our 
 tongues at them. Then I would dance a jig. 'Aha!' they would 
 say; 'that's Wolff Lustig's son. He's the only mischief-maker in 
 Schwersenz who can dance like that!' 
 
 "I would laugh and tell them to guess again. 
 
 " 'Oh, that's he. I know his voice,' Rosalie Lesser would say. 
 
 "That's mamma!" both boys exclaimed overwhelmed by the 
 discovery that, once upon a time, their mother was a girl. 
 
 Husband and wife exchanged glances, and Lustig added-' 
 "One night, boys, we went Pruim-pranking, and the towncrier 
 that's the night watchman, or policeman, as we call him here 
 found us. 'Hey!' he cried; 'what are you boys doing at this hour 
 of the night?'" 
 
 " 'It's Purim'! we cried. 
 
 " 'Purim?' he shouted back to us. 'Some more of your 
 Jewish nonsense?' 
 
 'Oh, go 'long with you,' we answered back, and ran away. 
 But he followed us. 'Go home! 1 he shouted; 'go home!' 
 
 "'Catch us going home,' we yelled back; and away we rushed 
 to the River Wartha." 
 
 Lustig paused awhile. It was evident to his wife that he 
 intended to relate a thrilling story. Bowing her head, she con- 
 cealed her smiles behind her hand. Then Lustig continued: 
 
 "We were now on the river bank, and I tell you it was cold; 
 but we didn't mind that. The policeman was after us, If we 
 turned back, he would catch us, and put us in jail. If we ran any 
 further we would probably fall into the river. What were we to 
 do? 
 
 The boys waited with mouths open. 
 
 Suddenly Jake Harris shouted. 'Here's a boat. Let's sail 
 down the river! We didn't say another word but jumped into the 
 boat and pushed off, just in time. The policeman stood on the 
 
 80
 
 A RURAL PURIM 
 
 shore, calling after us: "Is this some more of your Purim nonsense?'" 
 
 "We didn't mind him. Out on the river we floated. It was 
 a dark night, and we began to be afraid. But we had lots of fun 
 sailing away from the place. There were a few nearby lights, 
 but these faded away, and we were gliding along between dark, 
 empty fields. Now and then a dog barked. The sound was like 
 that of a fog hom. None of us spoke, and we didn't know where 
 we were going. Some said we would sail into Posen; others that, 
 if we stayed in the boat long enough, we would reach America. 
 But, after a while, one of us saw in the distance a little light, very 
 near the bank, just as if I took a candle and stuck it in the ground. 
 
 n 'Let's go there,' said one of the boys. 
 
 "We pushed in to the shore; jumped out of the boat, and tried 
 to find the house. We couldn't. But there was the light, shining 
 up through the ground, and we knew some one must be near. 
 
 " 'Let's sing our Purim song!' I said. 
 
 "Well, the boys were so scared they were ready to do anything, 
 and we sang. 
 
 " 'Come, good people, open the door, 
 Open it wider than ever before, 
 Today is Purim, tomorrow it's done 
 Give us a gift and away we run!" ' 
 
 "Well, sir, we shouted it louder than ever; and, just as we 
 finished I never saw anything like it in my life, the ground seemed 
 to open, and a man stuck his head out of a big hole. 
 
 1 'Who are you?' he shouted to us. 
 
 " 'Purim! Purim!' we yelled back, half scared out of our wits. 
 
 " 'O, ho,' roared the fellow, 'you're Schwersenz boys come to 
 serenade us. Welcome, welcome!' 
 
 "I never was so tickled in all my days. We went down a 
 81
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 little ladder into a cave; but it was fitted up just like a room, with 
 chairs, table, and an old-fashioned stove. When they saw us, 
 the man and his wife began to laugh and clap their hands, and 
 the old fellow roared. 
 
 " 'O, ho, you're Schwersenz boys come to serenade us on 
 Purim. What can you do? 1 
 
 "I tell you, they were pleased to see us; and, just as we started 
 to sing, the woman said: 'Sing one of your Purim songs, boys. 
 This is your Jewish Purim. I know what Jews do. I used to 
 work for the Goldschmit's in Posen." 
 
 "We weren't a bit afraid now. We danced and sang, and 
 I gave my jig, and the man took a rum. He whirled us around the 
 room, sang a song and danced so hard that the wooden floor began 
 to shake, and I thought the roof would tumble in on us. He could 
 sing, that fellow could, and this is his song: 
 
 " 'Hearken, you villagers, to this tale: 
 A cow once stole a milkman's pail; 
 She frightened the townsfolk out of their lives, 
 By selling milk to the townsmen's wives.' " 
 
 "Here Lustig laughed at his own attempt at rhyme, but the 
 boys, impatient for the rest of the story, cried out: 'What hap- 
 pened then?' 
 
 "Happened?" Lustig repeated merrily. "The man and his 
 wife gave us some of the good things they had in the pantry. We 
 had doughnuts, summer sausage, fried meats, and everything of 
 that sort. We took all they gave us, but were afraid to eat. We 
 held it in our hands, but did not stir. When the old man saw that 
 we were merely holding the cakes, he said: 'Why don't you boys 
 eat? You never tasted anything so good.' 
 
 * 'Dasn't,' we said, not caring to explain. 
 82
 
 A RURAL PURIM 
 
 B 'Do you Schwersenz boys come here at midnight and refuse 
 to eat my Sunday pastries? Dasn't! Dasn't! 1 
 
 "We couldn't say another word, we were so frightened, and 
 Mendel Lesser began to cry. 'Hey, there,' said the fellow, roar- 
 ing at us: 
 
 " 'What's the trouble with you, crying in my house? Why 
 don't you eat?' 
 
 " 'Not Kosher!' we yelled, and tumbled out of the house as 
 fast as we could. 1 
 
 "It took Lustig several minutes to assure the boys that he and 
 his companions reached home in safety; crept into their respective 
 houses unseen and unheard; and found their trundle-beds in the 
 attics and were soon buried in deep sleep. 
 
 The supper finished, Lustig noticed a whispered conference 
 going on between the boys, and, finally, persuaded them to take 
 him into their confidence. "We want to celebrate Purim, too, 11 
 they said. 
 
 "Oh," Lustig returned jovially, "one must live among Jewish 
 people to play a Purim prank. We are the only Jewish people 
 in Canaway. Where can you go? No one would understand 
 what you meant." 
 
 "Mrs. Ashley would," they said. 
 
 Without attempting to dissuade, and not wishing to disap- 
 point them, Lustig began to plan a disguise, and prepare them 
 for the frolic. 
 
 "Ludwig," he called merrily, "put on my old fireman's suit; 
 and Gottlieb, I will dress you up in one of mamma's old-fashioned 
 hoop skirts. Then go over to Mrs. Ashley's, knock at the front 
 door, and when you are in her front parlor, sing this song: 
 
 " 'Haman fed his little pigs on sassafrass and gingers. 
 And when he tried to catch them all, 
 They slipped right through his fingers." ' 
 
 83
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 The boys were soon disguised, and then left the house 
 father and mother anxiously awaiting their return, both wonder- 
 ing as to what the result of the adventure would be. At last the 
 lads came back, both of them munching a huge slice of mince pie; 
 their disguise partly revealed, their clothes being sadly disarranged- 
 Gottlieb had become disentangled from his skirt, and Ludwig's 
 coat and trousers, miles too big, had been removed. The hemlet 
 alone remained, and that so completely covered his head, that 
 the mince pie, rather than his face, was visible. 
 
 "Well, what happened?" Lustig demanded impatiently 
 
 "Well," Ludwig began, closely imitating his father's manner' 
 "we went to Mrs. Ashley's, you know, to the front door." 
 
 "I rang the bell," Gottlieb interrupted. 
 
 "Mrs. Ashley came to the front door with her lamp," Ludwig 
 continued. 
 
 " 'Mercy sakes,' she said, 'what's this?' Then we sang: 
 
 "Today is Purim, tomorrow it's done; 
 Give us a gift and away we run." 
 
 " 'Bless me, it's Ludwig and Gottlieb,' she said. 
 
 ' 'You musn't know us, Mrs. Ashley,' I told her. It's Purim. 
 
 " 'O, I mustn't?" she answered, 'but I do know your voices. 
 What makes you wear those funny clothes and masks?' 
 
 " 'It's Purim, 1 I told her. We must come into the parlour and 
 dance for you, and then you must give us something. 1 
 
 "Well, we went into the front room, They haven't a fire 
 there in winter, so she took us into the dining room, where Mr. 
 Ashley was. He laughed at what we said, and made us dance 
 lively. I never danced so much. Then Mrs. Ashley, she asked 
 us what we wanted, and we told her." 
 
 " 'Purim, you say; is that the time you eat your Matzoth?' 
 she said. 
 
 84
 
 A RURAL PURIM 
 
 " 'No, we sing and dance, and then you give us something 
 to eat.' 
 
 n 'I havn't anything but mince pie?' And so she gave us a big 
 piece of mince pie, and we began to eat it. But Mr. Ashley made 
 us take off our masks and the clothes you put on, so we wouldn't 
 catch cold when we went out." 
 
 "Well, boys," Lustig cried with a burst of laughter, "did you 
 have a good time?" 
 
 The boys were slow to confess. Finally Ludwig said: "No, 
 we didn't. If we lived in Schwersenz, we would have a better 
 time we could run away down the river in a boat, as you did." 
 
 85
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Elijah, The Prophet, in Canaway. 
 
 At some time or another something unusual was sure to happen 
 in Canaway. A circus next summer, or a fire last autumn, or any 
 similiar event was sufficient to keep the townsfolk gossiping. 
 
 Herman Lustig was no exception. He often told his boys 
 to expect some surprising occurence. They, too, like all good 
 people of Canaway, were looking ahead or looking backward. 
 Lustig predicted so many things for his boys and assured them that 
 within the ensuing year many startling events would take place 
 in Canaway; that, were a tenth part to come true, the boys would 
 be on the way to become either millionaires or president of the 
 United States. 
 
 This was characteristic of the town. And it was quite natural 
 for Lustig to promise his sons a party or a merry celebration in hon- 
 or of an approaching Jewish holiday. When the ice broke up 
 on the lake, and the March winds blew hot and cold alternately, 
 when the snow and ice had melted and spring was at hand, one 
 might have overheard Lustig promising his boys a Seder festival. 
 
 It would be a rare treat, so he led them to believe. He in- 
 tended to celebrate it in somewhat the same fashion that his good 
 father had in the old Schwarsenzer home. And, inasmuch as it 
 was something to look forward to, the boys accepted the promise 
 with good grace and waited. 
 
 They suspected, however, that something unusual would 
 take place. For several days their mother, assisted by Mary 
 O'Brien, the housemaid, had cleaned and scoured; all the familiar 
 
 86
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 broken-edged dishes were removed from the pantry; new oiled 
 paper lined the closet shelves; the flour barrel was emptied; and 
 the boys made a bam fire in the back yard of the crumbs from the 
 cake box. All this betokened something unusual; and their spirits 
 were raised to a high pitch. 
 
 At the end of a long house-cleaning campaign, Mrs. Lustig 
 concluded that her domicile was thoroughly renovated; and, one 
 evening, when Herman Lustig returned from his store, he called 
 his sons to his side and announced cheerfully: 
 
 "Boys, tonight is 'Seder!'" 
 
 "Oh! is that something to eat?" asked Ludwig. 
 
 "It's something to eat," Lustig admitted gayly; "but then, it's 
 the way we eat it that makes 'Seder.'" 
 
 "Oh, I know! It's a party," Gottlieb suggested enthusias- 
 tically. 
 
 "Well, then it is a party," Lustig conceded, greatly amused 
 at the boys' conjectures. 
 
 "Can't we invite somebody?" Gottlieb appealingly asked. 
 
 "I will do that. Wait, and you will hear me invite Elijah, 
 the Prophet." 
 
 Forestalling their inquiries, he added: "I will tell you about 
 him. He is a funny man; and we musn't talk about him till it's 
 time to send the invitation. Then perhaps, he may accept." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mean that!" Ludwig explained. "I mean some 
 one we know." 
 
 "I might have invited Father Margoli, eh, boys?" He paused 
 to see the effect; but they were perplexed. "Do you know," he 
 added frankly, "I think the priest is a Jew." 
 
 But this observation did not impress them. They listened 
 attentively, watching his alternating grimaces, and then Ludwig 
 added: 
 
 "Isn't he coming?" 
 
 87
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "Well, I don't know," Lustig added dubiously. "He was 
 in the store this afternoon with Father English; and they arranged 
 to rent my carpet loh until St. Mary's is rebuilt. I wanted to let 
 them have it free of charge, but they insisted on paying it. 'Tis 
 better to be good friends with everyone, even if I am a Jew, and 
 they are Catholics. Be good friends with everyone, boys, and 
 you'll get along in this world. No one in Canaway wanted to 
 rent rooms to them, so they came to me. 'Take mine 1 I said, and 
 they rented them. So there you are." 
 
 He laughed, but the boys did not appreciate the significance 
 of a Catholic service in a Jewish merchant's store. 
 
 "Then we can go up there?" Ludwig said innocently. 
 
 "That's no place for you." 
 
 "Oh, I want to see the new priest!" 
 
 "Some day, when you come to the store, you will meet him. 
 He comes into my place quite often. He's a nice young fellow, 
 and he knows many things about the Jewish people; because, 
 whenever I mention anything about our religion, he appears to 
 know all about it. Why, this morning when he came with Father 
 English he asked me: 
 
 "Isn't this your Pesach?" just like that. 
 
 "Yes, I said. 1 How do you know?" 
 
 " 'Studied it, 1 he said. And do you give Seder?' " 
 
 "How do you know anything about Seder?" I asked him again. 
 
 " 'Studied it, 1 he said, just like that, and then we laughed. 
 
 "Say, Father, how do you know so much about the Jews?" 
 You seem to know more about them than you do about the Irish." 
 
 "Well, sir, you should have heard them laugh. And Father 
 English said: 
 
 'Why, the Jews and the Irish are the chosen people! 1 And 
 then we all laughed. 
 
 "'Oh, well, 1 said Father Margoli, 'I like the Jewish people,' 
 88
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 and he looked me in the eye, as if he wanted to say, 'I am a Jew, 
 don't you know it? Well, sir, I thought of taking him aside and 
 questioning him, but Father English was there and I couldn't. So 
 I just told the young priest I was going to give a Seder tonight and 
 invited him. 
 
 "Even then, he continued to ask questions. He wanted to 
 know whether we had a Hagadah (that's the name of the book 
 from which the service is read); and whether my youngest son 
 would ask why this night was distinguished from all other nights 
 in the year. 
 
 "How do you know about that? I inquired. Only Jews 
 know these things. 
 
 "He wanted to tell me, I know it. I saw him blush and drop 
 his eyes, as if he would like to leuhe cat out of the bag. But Father 
 English noticed it and drew away. He may come, anyhow." 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb appeared to be interested in what their 
 father was telling them; but when their mother broke in and said 
 that she was ready, they seated themselves at the table, and, over- 
 come by the revealation of the dishes and the odd arrangement ot 
 the plates, forgot all about the priest. 
 
 Aided by what little information Lustig obtained in the sad 
 years he attended the Schwersenz Cheder (Hebrew school), he 
 explained the meaning and significance of the Seder, and then 
 retold the story of the passing of the children of Israel from the 
 house of bondage to the promised land; of their suffering in days 
 of old and their yearning for freedom. And when the boys wearied 
 of the talk, he wakened their interest by explaining the purpose of 
 the burnt meat, the bitter herbs, the sweetmeats, and, finally, the 
 unleavened bread. They listened attentively, watched the dis- 
 tribution of the various portions of food, and repeated after their 
 father the blessing over the wine. Lustig was explaining the 
 
 89
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 symbols and usages of the evening, when Ludwig interrupted him 
 by asking when that funny man would come. 
 
 "Yes, papa," Gottlieb echoed, "tell us about Elijah, the funny 
 man of whom you spoke." 
 
 "He dosn't come, boys, unless he is invited. Didn't you hear 
 me read; 'come all who are hungry and eat. All you who are 
 thirsty, come in and drink. This year we are all in bondage; 
 next year we are free men. This year we are here; next year he 
 paused, lowered his head and seemed puzzled well, next year, 
 boys," he concluded, "we may not be here!" 
 
 They stared at him. There was something mysterious about 
 it all. 
 
 Lustig foresaw how they might feel. "You know, boys," 
 he explained, "the Jews used to be driven from country to country. 
 No one wanted to make friends with them. You don't know 
 what that means, because you live in a land of freedom. But 
 suppose Mrs. Ashley were to come over here, or Henry Mutschler 
 the butcher, or Pat Meade and his boys, or anyone on Bristol street 
 suppose they would come over here and say, 'Get out of here! 
 You are Jews! You don't belong here! Get out, or we will 
 bum your house and steal your furniture and dishes! This is not 
 your country. You don't belong here!" 
 
 The boys looked very grave. 
 
 "That's what happened to our fathers in olden times," Lustig 
 continued. "They had no home. They were driven from every 
 town they settled in. Either king or prince or priest made them go; 
 and they had to seek homes elsewhere. 
 
 "Did Elijah go along?" Ludwig asked plaintively. 
 
 "Wherever they went," Lustig said, "Elijah followed them. 
 If they lost their way, he pointed out the right road. When they 
 came to a strange city and were unable to make themselves under- 
 
 90
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 stood he taught them the language of its people. Whenever there 
 was any danger ahead, he warned his people in time." 
 
 "What was his business?" Gottlieb asked. 
 
 "Traveler," Lustig answered. "Just a traveler. He traveled 
 all over the world. In those days there were no railroads; so men 
 used to walk, or ride on horseback. 
 
 "What did he look like?" Ludwig inquired. 
 
 "Look like? Oh, he looked," Lustig answered "like an old 
 man with a great big white beard and long white hair; and he wore 
 an immense overcoat. Well, sir, whenever he was on the high- 
 way, that's the country road, and he saw another man ahead, he 
 would run up to him and keep him company. So, one day, he 
 met a man on the highway and they walked together, talking about 
 all sorts of things. They stopped for dinner at a farmer's house. 
 The peasants were poor, but they treated Elijah and his friend to a 
 good dinner. When Elijah and his friend left, Elijah saw the 
 farmer's only cow in the field and killed it. 
 
 "Elijah's companion was indignant at this. 'What!' he cried 
 at him. 'These poor people have given you a fine dinner, and you 
 return their kindness by killing their cow? 1 
 
 "'Don't you know,' said Elijah, 'who I am? I am Elijah, 
 the Prophet. I knew that the farmer's wife would die. So I 
 caused the cow to die in her stead." 
 
 "Could he do that?" the boys asked increduously. 
 
 "Oh, yes! He was a great man. He could do wonderful 
 things. One day he met another traveler on the road, and they 
 wished to take supper at a rich man's house. But he sent them 
 away; and they had to sleep in the fields without food or bed. 
 In the morning Elijah noticed that a part of the man's house had 
 rumbled in, and he immediately went and fixed it up without 
 difficulty. 
 
 91
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 " 'What!' said his friend. 'You return good for evil? That 
 man drove us away and now you restore the wall of his house?' 
 
 "'Tut, tut!' said Elijah, laughing at the man. 'You don't know 
 who I am. Under the wall of the house is a box of money, and, 
 if that man had rebuilt his own wall, he would have found the 
 treasure. So I rebuilt it, and no one will find the box of gold.' " 
 
 All this was marvelous in the lads' eyes, and they urged 
 Lustig to continue. 
 
 "Well, sir, Elijah was good to the poor. If he met a man on 
 the road who was hungry, he gave him something to eat. If a 
 working man came to him and told him he had injured his arm or 
 his leg and was unable to work, Elijah would take his job and give 
 him the wages. And, boys, do you know that if the school child- 
 ren couldn't get their 'rithmetic lesson, and they called on Elijah 
 to help them, he did so at once, and they could pass their examina- 
 tions." 
 
 "Did he go all over?" Gottlieb asked. 
 
 "Everywhere. Whenever people were in trouble he came 
 to them and helped them. He was everybody's friend. Why, 
 boys, that man could make friends with a clown in a circus! Do 
 you like clowns, boys?" 
 
 "Yes!" they both exclaimed at once. 
 
 "So did Elijah. One day he came into town and saw a clown 
 giving a show in the street. In those days they used to have their 
 own circus in the streets and not in the tents like Bamum's. When 
 Elijah saw the clown, he went up to him, shook him by the hand, 
 and slapped him on the back just as an old friend might do. 'I 
 like you', Elijah said to the clown. 'You make people laugh so 
 that they forget their troubles. You are a good man.' And then 
 he told the clown the story of the one-legged goose. 
 
 "Whats* that?" they asked in a chorus. ' ' 
 
 "Well, once upon a time a rich man gave a banquet, and 
 92
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 ordered his cook to roast a goose. Ah, boys, roast goose is fine! 
 So the cook killed the fattest goose, roasting it brown, and when he 
 drew it from the oven it smelt so appetizing that his mouth watered. 
 He broke off a leg, turned the goose over so that one could see only 
 the other leg, and at dinner placed it before his master, who was to 
 carve it. 'See here!' said the master to his cook, after he had 
 begun the carving, 'some one has broken a leg off this goose!' 
 'Geese have only one leg, 'said the servant, shaking in his boots. 
 No one believed him. But that same afternoon, while he was 
 driving the company to their homes, they passed by a farmyard 
 where the geese were standing on a log with one leg under their 
 wing. 'See there,' said the servant, didn't I tell you geese have 
 only one leg?' 
 
 "Oh, how the clown laughed when Elijah ended the story! 
 You could have heard him from far away. So whenever there's 
 a party in a Jewish home, they invite Elijah just to tell stories and 
 make them happy. Everybody keeps an empty chair and plate 
 for Elijah. Of course, he can't go everywhere at the same time, 
 but we leave an empty place always in his honor. 
 
 "Would he come here?" Gottlieb timidly inquired. 
 
 "He might. He's traveled all over the world, visiting Jews in 
 every clime. And wherever he goes he gives something to the 
 poor; tells some of his funny stories; plays with little boys and girls; 
 sings a song, dances or plays marbles, and then disappears. Every- 
 body looks forward to his visits, and everybody invites him." 
 
 "You haven't invited him yet," Ludwig broke in. 
 
 "That's so. Let's invite him, then. Elijah! Oh, Mr. 
 Elijah!" Lustig called aloud, Ludwig and Gottlieb invite you to 
 attend their Seder. If you're in town, call on Lustigs on Bristol 
 street." 
 
 "Will he come?" they asked skeptically. 
 
 "I will call again. Elijah, are you coming?" 
 93
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 The sudden ringing of the door bell lent a moment 'sf awe to 
 the merriment. Lustig stopped, 'and threw a frightened look at 
 his wife, whose cheeks turned as pale as those of her boys. Ludwig 
 and Gottlieb's hearts throbbed, and they prepared for a miracle. 
 When Lustig arose, however, they dared not turn their heads to see 
 what sort of a personage their father would usher into the dining- 
 room. Crouching in their chairs, with their hearts a-throb, they 
 waited, fearful of their father's fate, marveling at the odd coinci- 
 dence, and then wondering, despite its apparent impossibility, 
 whether Elijah would really visit them. 
 
 Their father's hearty laughter, ringing cheerily back to the 
 silent household, relieved them. "This isn't Elijah, boys," he 
 said as he brought a young priest into the dining-room. "This is 
 Father Margoli." 
 
 The priest bowed ceremoniously to Mrs. Lustig, and smiled 
 in a friendly manner at the boys, who stared at him, more disap- 
 pointed than they could say. 
 
 The priest and Lustig fell to talking, and the boys attempted 
 to follow their conversation, but it referred to things beyond their 
 knowledge. So they inspected the visitor, noting his high-cut 
 clerical vest and the smooth lines of his face. But the far away 
 look in his eyes and the shadow of regret and sadness encircling 
 his deep-sunk hollow eyes, made no impression on them. 
 
 It amused them to see with what ease their father spoke to 
 him; how familiarly he addressed him. They knew he was 
 talking about the Seder, because he pointed to the meat and matzoh 
 and reread pages from the Hagadah at the priest's request, and 
 finally both, to their utter astonishment, joined in singing the mo- 
 notonous, but tuneful song of Hadgadyah. 
 
 It was a pleasant feast. The boys seemed to have been for- 
 gotten, and had they not compelled attention by resampling por- 
 tions of the edibles and requesting their father to fill their wine- 
 
 94
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 glasses, they might have fallen asleep without witnessing the most 
 impressive scene of their young lives. 
 
 "You see, the Jews," Lustig was saying, "believe in making 
 life happy. They believe in having a good time in a proper way; 
 they believe that life's worth living. They like family life, children, 
 and a wife who can make good matzohschalet." 
 
 Mrs. Lustig appreciated the compliment graciously. 
 
 "That's what we like. We believe in all good things and all 
 good people." 
 
 The priest acknowledged Lustig's general statement with a 
 nod of approval. 
 
 "That's why the Jews have families so that children may 
 leam to know what it means to honor their parents, that they may 
 live long in the land." 
 
 The priest dropped his head and murmured a low assent. 
 
 "We always stick together. Good heavens! Had we not 
 stuck together, what would have become of us? Jews wish to 
 help one another. I tell you, if any Jewish boy despised his fath- 
 er-" 
 
 "Impossible!" interrupted the priest. "Thais' rather strong." 
 
 Lustig stared at him open-eyed. 
 
 "What's the matter, Father?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir, nothing. Continue." 
 
 "You know we Jews believe in freedom. So we have great 
 sympathy for those who are enslaved people who cannot do as 
 they think best, who must sell their souls, who haven't the right to 
 be men and women, but must do as others tell them to do, although 
 the others don't believe it themselves." 
 
 "Who told you so?" asked the priest, his eyes aflame. 
 
 "Told?" No one told me! Won't you have another glass 
 of wine, Father?" 
 
 Lustig filled his own glass, and exchanged serious glances 
 95
 
 CANAWAY AND THELUSTIGS 
 
 with his wife. They saw the glass tremble in the young priest's 
 hand. He swallowed the contents in one nervous gulp. 
 
 "You see, Father, no one understands the Jews." 
 
 "I do yes, yes, I know them!" the priest exclaimed. 
 
 "That's true, and that puzzles me," Lustig returned, "I believe 
 you know more about the Jews than I do." 
 
 "No, no! Father Margoli protested. "I have only studied 
 them superficially. I saw the little my father would but con- 
 tinue, Mr. Lustig, continue. I am rather excited. This Seder 
 festival why, it reminds me of so many things. It is supposed to 
 be the origin but never mind me, I am curious, you see; rather 
 unfit for company. Continue." 
 
 "I think Father," said Lustig, "almost every nation must hate 
 the Jew because they believe in freedom. Jews hate kings, princes 
 and rulers. They want people to do their own thinking, and rule 
 themselves. And that's what every sensible American wants. I 
 am proud of being a Jew, and I should think that any man that had 
 Jewish blood in his veins 
 
 "Well, what of him?" interrupted the priest in a hollow voice- 
 What of him?" 
 
 "Why," Lustig replied blandly, "I should think he would 
 cherish every drop of Jewish blood he had in his veins, and call 
 himself the most fortunate man on earth." 
 
 "I am! I am!" the priest exclaimed, rising. "I am that fort- 
 unate!" 
 
 He had risen, and Lustig, astonished at this also sprang up 
 from his chair. 
 
 "For God's sake, Father, what's the matter with you?" Lustig 
 demanded. What's the trouble?" 
 
 The priest paused a second, as if controlling his feelings with 
 an effort; his brows contracted and his dark eyes flashed. 
 
 "Oh, sir, you don't know!" he moaned. "I dare not tell. I
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET 
 
 dare not! My heart is broken. I do not know what to say. I 
 have dwelt in two worlds. I am your brother, but, odd as it may 
 seem, I cannot reveal what I know. Some day I may be able to 
 explain. Excuse me now, I must leave you. Good night!" 
 
 "That was not Elijah, boys," Lustig lugubriously informed 
 them when the priest had gone. "No, no! Elijah would have 
 told us, if he had any Jewish blood in his veins. He would have 
 boasted of it. However, this much is plain, Father Margoli is a 
 Jew." 
 
 And the boys believed it, too, after what they had seen and 
 heard on that memorable Seder eve.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 CONFIRMATION DAY. 
 
 What greater pleasure can boys have than a railroad journey? 
 So thought the Lustig boys, and, from time to time, their desires 
 were gratified. There were, of course, many ways of amusing 
 one's self at every season of the year in Canaway. In winter, 
 skating on the lake and sleigh-riding; in autumn, nutting; and to 
 hunt sassafras roots and slippery elm bark in spring, was rare fun. 
 During the long vacation days of July and August what couldn't 
 one do? Berrying and hiding from the gypsies were only a few 
 of the amusements; and, of these, the Lustig boys had their share. 
 But there was, none the less, one supreme joy a trip to Rochester, 
 the great city, far, far away from Canaway. 
 
 Whenever Herman Lustig allowed his boys to accompany 
 him, both Ludwig and Gottlieb remained awake all night; for 
 fear they might miss the eight forty-five train. Such a thing would 
 have seemed to them like a calamity. So many wonderful things 
 were to be seen in Rochester. Such as street cars and tall buildings 
 of four or more stories in height; immense show windows exhib- 
 iting innumerable articles of beauty and utility. And then the 
 people! Where did so many come from? Never, not even on 
 circus day, was half as great a number on Main street of Canaway 
 as there was on one side street of Rochester. It seemed as if all the 
 men and women in the world lived in Rochester, and walked up 
 and down Main Street, just to see the Lustigs from Canaway. 
 
 Oh, what excitement reigned in the Lustig household on the 
 morning of the journey! With what care their Schabbus clothes 
 
 98
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 were put on; what a sumptuous breakfast was served, and then a 
 luncheon had to be put up, lest the boys find themselves hungry at 
 the end of the hour's travel. After hearing for the hundredth 
 time the many entreaties of their solicitous mother "not to go too 
 near the street cars, not to cross the streets alone, not to get lost and 
 not to eat too many peanuts," they started out. How proudly they 
 walked down Bristol Street, and with what a triumphant air they 
 told every boy they met that they were going to the City. 
 
 That was indeed a special occasion. Everything appeared 
 to be arranged for them. On came the Elmira Express, steaming 
 alongside the depot just to carry them to Rochester. Some passen- 
 gers alighted and some boarded the train. Charlie Gluck, the 
 conductor, called louder than ever, "All aboard!" when he saw the 
 Lustig boys were going on the train. 
 
 Everybody in Canaway heard the eight-forty-five leave, and 
 every one knew that the Lustig boys were on it. Slowly it moved 
 along the park that fronts the Canaway House; then across Main 
 Street, with its swift panoramic view of the lower Main Street, and 
 its glimpses of the lake; faster now around the bend at the Town 
 Hall; past the graveyard, the meadows and McKecknie's Brewery; 
 on faster and faster, like a March wind, as it rushes through the 
 fringe of the town, out into the country, fairly flying past houses and 
 bams, through fields, through gullies and cuts, past Paddleford and 
 Farmington, Victor, and Fishers, and then, the great throb of 
 joy the wide expanse of tracks at East Rochester, the streets and 
 rows of houses, the great factory buildings. 
 
 Herman set the boys a jumping round the room, one evening 
 in May, by saying he intended to take them to Rochester the follow- 
 ing day to see a confirmation in the Reform Temple. They be- 
 gan to wave their hands and cry aloud in boyish delight before he 
 had an opportunity to explain his purpose. 
 
 What cared they for his explanations? The pleasure of see- 
 99
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 ing the city crowded out every other consideration. "I want to 
 show you how Jewish children are confirmed," he said, despite 
 their hilarity. 
 
 "Hurrah! Hurrah!" Ludwig was shouting, and Gottlieb who 
 echoed his every syllable, was marching noisily behind him. 
 
 Lustig permitted them to vent their enthusiasm, and, after 
 they had calmed down, told them that the oldest daughter of one 
 of his playmates was to be confirmed, and he wanted them to see 
 her as well as the ceremony. "We are Jewish people, you know- 
 Even if we do live in a country town, we musn't forget that we are 
 Jews." 
 
 It was a tedious night for them. The intervening hours be- 
 tween sunset and daylight seemed like a century. But when the 
 day dawned, and the young, ruddy sunlight tinted the Bristol and 
 sparkled on the lake, the boys, flushed with excitement and ex- 
 pectancy, were comfortably seated in the plush seats of the day- 
 coach, and were flying on to the city. It was an important event; 
 and when they stepped from the car and followed the speedy steps 
 of their father, and heard the hotel criers calling, "Whitcomb Housef 
 Osbome House, Powers Hotel," they considered themselves very 
 important beings. Here indeed, they were in the city, and every- 
 thing wonderful stretched before them. But they now had no 
 time to lose in sight seeing. 
 
 They were to have a new experience. They had never been 
 in a Jewish synagogue. They had seen the inside of the churches 
 in Canaway and once Lustig permitted them to accompany Charlie 
 Ashley to Sunday School. Now they were to enter what they called 
 "their own church," and they were eager to be there and see what 
 it was like. 
 
 A large crowd of fashionably-dressed men and women were 
 hurrying toward the temple on St. Paul Street, as the Lustig boys 
 
 100
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 came tripping along, both of them holding tightly to their father's 
 hand. Many persons were entering the Temple. 
 
 "Come," Lustig said softly, as he caught the organ strains 
 floating out on the busy streets, "we are just in time." 
 
 So crowded were the seats and aisles, that with difficulty 
 Lustig was ushered to his own pew in the gallery. 
 
 "Keep your eyes open, boys," he advised, as soon as they had 
 squeezed into the seat, "and you will see some fine girls and boys." 
 But he had hardly finished his remark when the organ pealed 
 forth a slow, solemn march and every one about then craned his 
 neck to watch the procession. As the soft, solemn tones floated 
 from the large musical instrument, the boys, looking over the edge 
 of the gallery, saw a pale man of medium height leading a pro- 
 cession of young girls, all dressed in white, their eyes fastened on the 
 bouquets they had in their hands. They marched down the 
 middle aisle. Slowly, and with measured steps, they advanced. 
 All eyes were turned toward them as they moved along almost 
 imperceptibly. Following them came the boys, less impressed by 
 the solemnity of the occasion than -were the girls for they looked 
 about, trying to obtain recognition from relatives in the audience. 
 
 The girls were now finding their seats on the platform, be- 
 hind palms and banks of potted flowers, and the boys, too, were 
 filling the camp chairs. The tallest boy, in his first long trousers, 
 was stepping alertly upon the platform, and the great organ's tones 
 were subdued, when Lustig, his eyes filled with tears, sought the 
 attentive faces of his boys. 
 
 "You'll be doing that some day," he whispered, "if you are 
 spared to us." 
 
 "Are they confirmed now?" Gottlieb ventured to ask in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "Hush," Lustig cautioned, "we mustn't speak or whisper in 
 Schule. 
 
 101
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "When are they confirmed?" Ludwig persisted. 
 
 "You will see," his father returned firmly. The congregation 
 had risen at the sonorous reading of a Hebrew sentence. The pale, 
 nervous man in the pulpit was repeating in the same language some 
 words which the boys could not understand; and, in a full, melod- 
 ious chant, the choir responded; then, amid the rustling of skirts 
 and the scraping of feet, the congregation reseated itself. 
 
 The reading continued. The instant the boys heard the 
 words, they began questioning their father. "Who is that man?" 
 Gottlieb asked quietly. 
 
 "Hush! Lustig answered, turning on them a commanding 
 look, "you mustn't whisper! The man 'dosen't like it. He's a 
 Jewish minister, a rabbi, Dr. Hillman, a very learned man. Some 
 days, boys, you will study under him. Now listen!" 
 
 The boys found it difficult to comply with their father's request. 
 There were so many interesting and strange sights that they wished 
 to inquire about. It was all very new; and yet, somehow, they did 
 not feel out of place, as they did when they sat, partly scared and 
 very shy, in Charlie Ashley's Sunday school. To be sure, they did 
 not know why their father turned the pages of a book that an usher 
 brought him, why and what he murmured aloud, and why, some- 
 times, he arose and repeated after the Rabbi, words that they did 
 not understand. But they sat contentedly, noting everything, 
 looking down on the even rows of men and women, then up to the 
 blue ceiling, dotted with its gilt stars. And when they tired of that, 
 their eyes centered on the platform, where the boys and girls sat 
 quietly reading the ritual. Although it was the first time they had 
 been inside of a Jewish Temple, it seemed to them somehow that 
 they had been there before; at any rate, so vividly had their father 
 described the synagogue in Schwersenz, that they felt at home 
 here. What astonished them more than the building and the ser- 
 vice, was the size of the congregation. Where did so many Jewish 
 
 102
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 people come from? Could it be that there were, all told, so many 
 Jews in the world? 
 
 Not until one of the boys on the platform arose from his seat and 
 began to speak did the young Lustig annoy their father with another 
 question. 
 
 "Is he going to recite a piece?" Ludwig asked, recalling a 
 similar public school experience. 
 
 "Watch, now boys; that's Leopold Carson's son. Some 
 day you will stand up there and speak, too. Every Jewish boy 
 must make a little speech in the Temple; that makes a man of him." 
 
 The confirmant's voice, owing to his diffidence probably seem- 
 ed to be weak or cracked, and the Lustigs did not, at first, under- 
 stand all he said. Later they made out somethings, especially when, 
 in a strong clear tone, he thanked his parents for all the care and 
 kindness with which they had guarded his young, helpless years 
 thanked his teachers for the many useful lessons he had received, and 
 now, "he hoped to grow up into useful manhood, an honor to his 
 parents, his country and his religion." 
 
 The address was brief but they had never heard anyone 
 speak quite in that way, and they felt proud of what they had 
 heard. With an approving eye, Ludwig turned to his father and 
 whispered, "I want to do that some day." 
 
 "Of course you do some day when you are Bar-mitzvah." 
 
 "What's next?" Gottlieb interrupted, impatient of delays. 
 
 When their eyes fell on the platform, they saw a little girl 
 standing before the altar, her eyes uplifted and she was saying that 
 she had "reached an epoch in her young life," which statement 
 was followed by many fine expressions. But the Lustigs were 
 not so much interested in her. They never liked to hear girls speak 
 anyway. Girls rarely recited as well as boys, and then this girl 
 lifted her eyes up and never looked at anyone. Boys looked 
 right at people. 
 
 103
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 The many addresses and prayers began to weary the young 
 Lustigs. They shifted restlessly in their seats and annoyed their 
 father with needless questions. He, too, showed his impatience 
 by taking out his watch and saying: "I wonder when Dora will 
 speak?" 
 
 She was late to rise. No sooner had she stood up than Lustig 
 forgetful of his sons, leaned further over, craning his neck, fastening 
 his eyes on her, so that he might not lose a syllable or gesture. 
 
 "Is that our Dora?" Gottlieb ventured to ask. 
 
 "Zelig Holtsman's daughter. Her father was my classmate. 
 Listen to her!" 
 
 The boys wondered what made their father blush; why his 
 eyes grew big and tearful, as he heard her trembling tones; and, 
 when she referred to her own father, "so soon called from earth," 
 they saw tears roll down Lustig's cheeks and noticed that some 
 woman in back of them began to cry aloud. 
 
 They could not understand what this meant. But they heard 
 Miss Holtsman say; "May He keep his guardian watch over me," 
 and then she suddenly stopped speaking and burst into tears. 
 
 "Poor Dora," Lustig murmured, deeply moved. 
 
 For an instant the boys stared at their father in bewilderment, 
 and then, unable to fathom it all, glanced carelessly toward the 
 young girl, who stood facing the congregation and sobbing. 
 
 The Rabbi waited a little, and, when the hush of the sympa- 
 thetic audience grew more evident, he stepped to the girl's side, 
 patted her gently, to encourage her, and then said to the congre- 
 gation: "Be patient with her; this is a trying ordeal." 
 
 His words either stimulated or nettled her. Raising her head 
 suddenly, she stepped forward and, as if she had not been inter- 
 rupted, said bravely: 
 
 "May, from this heavenly height, my father, look down upon 
 me this great day of my young life. May his memory burn ever 
 
 104
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 brighter and brighter, and, although on the long way I must go 
 alone, may it be for me a cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night. 
 Thou, who are the father of the fearless, protect and guard me in 
 all my ways. Bless those who guided me in childhood; and now 
 that I step forward into girlhood, be Thou with me still. Bless my 
 teachers, and all those who have so sincerely directed me; my 
 many friends, and all those who have befriended me; and my 
 sisters and brothers, who with me suffered the loss of childhood's 
 stay and staff. Strengthen me to be father and mother to them 
 so that they may never know the loneliness of a homeless child. 
 Bless this congregation and the dear Rabbi who ministers here; 
 and the officers and all its members. O, give me the heart to know 
 Thy ways, that in Thee I may find strength and peace within 
 the gates of life. Amen." 
 
 So fervently had she spoken that the Rabbi clasped her 
 hand and drew her toward him. By reason of the hum and buzz 
 and the nodding of heads among the people below and about them, 
 the boys realized that something unusual had taken place. And 
 then there was the one indisputable evidence that their father had 
 been weeping in his vigorous using of his handkerchief. 
 
 Lustig dried his eyes before he turned to his sons. 
 
 "Wasn't that fine, boys?" he said.happily. "Poor Dora is an 
 orphan. I feared she would break down. But she outdid them 
 all. She is a bright young girl." 
 
 He nudged Ludwig and Gottlieb, who sat one on each side of 
 him. The class had now encircled the Rabbi, and were repeating 
 the blessings which come before the reading of the scroll. Then the 
 confirmants all read from the Book of Law (just as once upon a 
 time Ludwig himself had read from it) they were now considered 
 sons of the covenant. Although the ceremony was veiled in mystery 
 and to Ludwig and Gottlieb unintelligible, it interested them to 
 hear the boys read Hebrew and pronounce the blessing. No boys 
 
 105
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 in Canaway were able to do that; and it filled them with pride 
 to feel assured that some day they, too, would stand on the platform 
 as their father told them, and pronounce those words. 
 
 With interest they watched each move of the Rabbi and the 
 confirmants while he rolled the scroll together, and, covering it 
 with a silk hood, placed the silver pointer and shield over it. Then 
 he, turning to the class, said: 
 
 "On this day, my children, you testify before God and man 
 that you are members of Israel's holy covenant. Do you promise 
 to fulfil to the best of your ability, all the responsibilities that follow 
 from that declaration?" 
 
 The Rabbi, as well as the Lustig boys, waited patiently for 
 the answer. In a low, solemn voice the entire class responded: 
 
 "We confess this before Thee, this day, O God and God of 
 our Fathers, that Thou art the shield of our lives, our preserver and 
 redeemer. From of old Thou hast led our Fathers, and standest, 
 even this day, at our right hand to lead us in the paths of life. The 
 covenant is with us, as it was with them. Thy law is the light to 
 guide us, and to do Thy will is our delight. Trusting in Thy 
 infinite mercy, our fathers suffered trials and misfortunes, to be the 
 priestly people, and to teach all men Thy law of justice and right- 
 eousness. Fully conscious of our appointment, we promise to 
 fulfill Thy divine purposes, so that we may, with our last breath, 
 confidently exclaim: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the 
 Lord is one." 
 
 The Rabbi laid his hands on the head of each of the confir- 
 ments, pronounced a few words which the hubbub of the congrega- 
 tion made inaudible, and led the boys and girls slowly down the 
 platform, amid the pleased glances and other expressions of glad- 
 ness of all present. 
 
 Lustig was too preoccupied in disentangling himself and his 
 boys from the crowd that encumbered the doorways to answer 
 
 106
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 immediately their questions: and then many men recognized 
 Lustig and insisted on shaking hands and learning the names of 
 his sons. 
 
 The immense congregation seemed reluctant to leave the 
 synagogue. For some time people clustered about the building. 
 Every one had some friend to greet or some proud parent to con- 
 gratulate. Lured by the unusual scene, many of the city's idlers 
 gathered on the opposite of the street to watch the outcoming and 
 vivacious assemblages. Truck drivers, messenger boys, merchants 
 and the busy population of St. Paul street stood about, as the people 
 drifted slowly homeward. Here and there, some boys, smartly 
 dressed, darted in and out of the crowd, and finally the ranks thin- 
 ned. The last carriage had driven up to the curb stone; and the 
 only man left about the building was the bustling sexton, Alex. 
 Blumendale, who, in his silk hat and with bulky frame, was for- 
 cibly closing the huge Temple gates. 
 
 The dinner in the palm garden of Brunswick Hotel did not 
 afford the boys as much amusement as Lustig had anticipated. 
 The Hungarian band, and the neat tables and white chairs, did not 
 appeal to them as much as they did to Lustig, who had refused 
 several invitations to dine there. It was not until they were on 
 their way to Dora's that they referred to the confirmation. "Her 
 papa and I were classmates," Lustig was explaining, in answer 
 to countless questions. "Zelig and I came over together in the 
 same ship, and we both started peddling together." 
 
 "Were you confirmed?" Ludwig asked with interest. 
 
 "Well, we were Bar-mitzvah that's about the same thing. 
 But we did things differently in the old country. The day after 
 I was Bar-mitzvah my father said: 'Herman, tomorrow you go 
 to Solomon's and learn tailoring; 1 and the day after Zelig was 
 Bar-mitzvah his father took him to Harris Jacobs and had him 
 
 107
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 learn shoemaking. That was our Bar-mitzvah reception. You, 
 boys, don't know how easy you have it here in America." 
 
 "Didn't you keep chickens and make a circus?" Gottlieb 
 queried. 
 
 "Ho, ho, Lustig laughed, "we had to earn our living. We 
 had no time to enjoy ourselves, as you boys do here. It was work 
 or starve. Once in a while we had a little run. One day, Zelig 
 made a wagon from an old box he found in the streets; and, when 
 his mother saw it, she sent the two of us to the street fair in Posen, 
 to haul home a bushel of potatoes in the wagon. So, we two chaps 
 went to Posen, got the potatoes, and started home. When we were 
 on the highway, Zelig said: 'Hyman, lets' go to America now. 1 n 
 
 "To America," I cried, "how can we? We haven't any 
 money." 
 
 " 'Oh, we have this cart and some potatoes. If we walk far 
 enough, we will reach America. See, it's way over there, 1 and he 
 pointed westward." 
 
 "What will you do when you reach the ocean?" I asked him, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Well, boys, I had struck the fellow dead, he couldn't have 
 turned paler. He just fell down on the ground, and began to cry. 
 I laughed, and let him cry. 'Ho, ho' I said, 'want to go to America 
 in a cart, eh, and cross the ocean in it and get wet?' " 
 
 "He didn't cry long. Suddenly he jumped to his feet. Til 
 tell you what we'll do!' he cried, excitedly, 'we will go around the 
 other way, and come in at the back door. Will you do that, 
 'Hyman?' " 
 
 "Did you go?" they asked. 
 
 "Yes, yes," Lustig replied, amused at their confusion. We 
 came over together in somebody else's cart, and began peddling as 
 every poor man did in those days. Zelig settled in Rochester, 
 and I went to Canaway. After a while he married well, it's a 
 
 108
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 long story. First he died and then his wife; and now the children 
 are orphans that's why Dora cried her papa and mama are 
 both dead." 
 
 "What do children do whose parents are dead?" Gottlieb 
 asked. 
 
 "We take care of them," Lustig said sadly. "We don't want 
 anyone to suffer. We want them to grow up to be brave and 
 strong, to be men and women and to do their duty. That's all we 
 Jews want people to do. Suppose," he aded slowly, lowering his 
 voice, "suppose we take Dora home with us." 
 
 "Will she make molasses candy for us like Minne Ashley?" 
 Gottlieb asked. 
 
 "Charlie Ashley has a big sister," Ludwig broke in, taking 
 the hint from Gottlieb's question. 
 
 The boys were eager to meet her. All the way to Philip 
 Beer's, where she was receiving, Lustig continued to talk about 
 her and her father. Either her popularity or the pathos of her 
 orphanage made her the most sought after of the confirmants of 
 this day. When the Lustigs were ushered into the spacious parlor, 
 they added another group to the crowd that clustered about with 
 greetings for the young girl, who returned smiling thanks for all 
 their compliments. For a time they stood unnoticed, the boys too 
 embarrassed to move, and Lustig viewing with smiling approval 
 the attention bestowed upon her. But the crowd broke, Dora 
 sighted Lustig and flew toward him, flinging her arms about him, 
 bursting into tears, while the many friends and visitors bowed in 
 respectful recognition of her feelings. 
 
 "Well, your Zelig's daughter, that's why I came," Lustig 
 said to her, "and if I can no longer serve him, I can serve you." 
 
 His apt speech was followed by a signal to lead the boys into 
 the dining-room, where, amid a throng of other children, they were 
 served with ice-cream and such delicious ice-cream it was. No 
 
 109
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 one in Canaway ever tasted ice-cream so sweet and delicious. 
 And the bananas and oranges and grapes and cakes! The lady 
 who attended to the ravenous appetites of the young folks saw to it 
 that every plate was abundantly supplied; and when the youthful 
 Lustigs had their full, and edged their way into the parlor, they 
 found their father engrossed in conversation with a large, broad- 
 shouldered man, whose iron-gray hair fell in thick folds over a high t 
 broad forehead. 
 
 "Are these your sons?" he asked raising his shaggy brows. 
 "Pleased to meet you, young gentlemen," he said, formally 
 shaking each one by the hand. "Did your father tell you that 
 Levi Lewisohn is a Schwersenzer? And turning to Dora, who had 
 flitted into the room, he said: 'I came all the way from New York 
 to be here at your confirmation. Your father, Lustig here, and 
 myself were Bar-mitzvah about the same time and then we scatter- 
 ed over the face of the earth. This man, Lustig, do you know, 
 I haven't seen him since I left Schwersenz." 
 
 "Do you remember, Hyman," he turned to ask, "the time 
 Rabbi Chronik thrashed you because you didn't leam your para- 
 sha?" 
 
 "Yes, I do! Lustig answered emphatically. But don't you 
 remember when you took Schayah's tephillin (Phylacteries) and 
 exchanged them for Schammes'? And when the Schammes dis- 
 covered another's tephillin in his bag, he thought, the Rabbi had 
 thoughtlessly misplaced his own, so he put Schayah's in the Rabbi's 
 bag, and every boy in Cheder split his sides over the joke." 
 
 These recollections amused the men, especially those who 
 had grouped themselves about Lustig and Lewisohn. 
 
 But Ludwig and Gottlieb did not appreciate the conversation 
 and stared curiously at Dora, who presently sat down beside them 
 to listen to the men. 
 
 "Tell me, Hyman, do you remember your Bar-mitzvah?" 
 110
 
 CONFIRMATION DAY 
 
 Without waiting for Lustig to answer, he began to chant his 
 own section, in the peculiar cantillation of Polish Prussia, and then 
 stopped abruptly, as if arrested by some recollection. "Do you 
 know Hyman, I often recall those days. We were quite a crowd. 
 There was Moritz Lazarus, he's a great professor in the old country 
 then there's Zalinsky, he's an officer in our navy; why, New York's 
 full of Schwersenzer boys, all of them wealthy merchants Adolph 
 Rich, Jacob Harris, Mendel Lesser, Gustav Rothholtz and the 
 great Rabbi of Temple Emanuel, his home was not far from Sch- 
 wersenz. All are now in this great country." 
 
 "All but papa," Dora added mournfully. 
 
 "God's will, my dear girl," Lewissohn reminded her sympa- 
 thetically. "But is your father so far away from us? I see Zelig 
 Holtzman in your sweet face. I heard him in the beautiful prayer 
 you recited this morning. Do you imagine, for one moment, we, 
 Schwersenzer boys, would let you suffer or want for anything? 
 Why, we have all been spanked by one teacher and we never 
 forgot our playmates; and then we have Jewish hearts we remember 
 our dear ones. That's why we are Bar-mitzvah. Once Zelig 
 was your father, and now every Schwersenzer is. If you want a 
 home 
 
 "Dora's going home with us," Gottlieb declared. 
 Lewissohn turned a sharp look on Lustig, who was pleased at 
 his son's proud vindication. "That Schwersenz rascal," pointing 
 at Lustig, "always gets the best of me! Once he met me in the old 
 market place, as I was eating an apple. 'Levi, 1 he said 'did you 
 ever make an apple vanish without touching it with your hands?* 
 No, I, like a fool, stammered. 'Show me.' 
 
 "This is what your father did," he said looking at the boys. 
 "He took my apple, put it on the ground, lay flat down, picked up 
 the apple with his teeth, and ran away. This time, he takes 
 Dora away from me! Well, God bless him, anyhow!" 
 
 Ill
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb were greatly excited over the informa- 
 tion their father imparted one June evening, when he announced 
 with his usual persuading cheerfulness that he had arranged to have 
 them taught Hebrew. The boys were sorely perplexed. For> 
 of all things he had told them and he had, as you know, narrated 
 sundry episodes of his early days in Schwersenz, not to mention 
 the many incidents that had happened in Canaway he had never 
 told them what Hebrew was. 
 
 They were, therefore, a trifle anxious; and, if the truth must 
 be said, they did not know exactly what to make of the news. 
 It presented to their young minds many mysteries. This is certain. 
 Not one of the Gentile children had ever said anything about 
 Hebrew, and so the Lustig boys were quite in the dark. 
 
 "What is Hebrew, papa?" Ludwig asked, concealing his 
 bewilderment sufficiently to show intelligent curiosity. 
 
 "My son," Herman replied with more severity than the question 
 warranted, "we are Jews; and Hebrew is our holy language. Every 
 Jewish boy ought to know a little of Hebrew, in order to under- 
 stand his religion. And, just as luck would have it, a Hebrew 
 teacher has come to live in Canaway ." 
 
 "What's his name?" they asked with lively interest. 
 
 "Hyman Goldstein,, D, D.. professor of music and languages." 
 
 But this they could not understand, and stared at their father 
 with amazement, baffled by the long-sounding words. 
 
 But they soon learned. On that very afternoon the newcomer 
 112
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 had stumbled into Lustig's store, made his peace with the proprie- 
 tor, and ended the visit by arranging to instruct Ludwig and Gott- 
 lieb in Hebrew. So far as they were concerned, this was sufficient 
 to fill them with either pleasure or dismay; but that the forlorn pro- 
 fessor came to Canaway with his large family because he did not 
 have money to take him elsewhere, and that he and his family were 
 allowed the use of an abandoned house on a back street where he 
 proposed to support his family by the precarious method of teach- 
 ing music and language to unappreciative townsfolk these grim 
 facts and the pitiful struggles of this unfortunate man, Lustig did 
 not relate to his sons. They would not have realized their pathos. 
 The professor himself interested the boys more than his untoward 
 circumstances. After answering many inquires, Lustig proceeded 
 to describe the teacher. 
 
 "Oh, I know him," Ludwig interrupted with animation. 
 "He wears a stovepipe, and all of the boys threw stones at him,." 
 
 "You must not throw stones at him," Lustig commanded them. 
 "He's a learned man; you must respect a learned man." 
 
 "The boys chased him all the way down Coy street," Ludwig 
 continued excitedly. 
 
 "And every one yelled after him," Gottlieb broke in, 'Say 
 Mister, where did you get that hat? 1 Yes, they did papa. I 
 heard them." 
 
 His high hat was indeed conspicuous in spite of its shabbiness; 
 and the urchins of Canaway could not help noticing it. In fact it 
 was the third of its kind to appear in town. One was worn by the 
 manager of Bamum's circus, another by a country physician ot 
 Reed's Comers, a third by Hyman Goldstein, D. D., professor of 
 music and language. 
 
 "Why does he wear that long coat?" Ludwig asked, after he 
 had exhausted all available information bearing on the significance 
 of the hat. 
 
 113
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "His Prince Albert you mean," Lustig observed. "Oh, that's 
 fashionable. All professors wear long coats to make them look 
 smart." 
 
 "He's got such big whiskers," Gottlieb cried out, "and he is 
 so odd." Lustig tried to contain himself in defending the unusual 
 appearance of the newcomer, which does not imply that the pro- 
 fessor was uncanny or unsightly, but that the innocent people of 
 Canaway had seldom rested their eyes on one so distinguished as 
 a professor of music and languages. After skillfully defending his 
 client, Lustig succeeded in awakening in his sons a proper regard 
 for the man, as well as a desire to receive instruction from him. 
 Such glowing accounts did Lustig give of his accomplishments, that 
 the instruction they were to receive on the following afternoon 
 promised to be one of the greatest events of their lives. 
 
 Early next morning both boys were on the street telling all 
 their playmates what they had in store. 
 
 "We are going to take Hebrew lessons of Professor Hyman 
 Goldstein," dee, dee, they said proudly. "Only smart people 
 study Hebrew." 
 
 "Humph, that's nothing." Charlie Ashley returned unim- 
 pressed by what the lads told him so innocently. My sister, she's 
 in the normal school at Genesee. She takes botany and hy- 
 drogen, and she is awfully smarter." 
 
 "Well, Hebrew is the holy language, that's what my papa 
 says and only Jews study it. We are going to take religion." 
 Ludwig added promptly. 
 
 But Charlie was not affected by even this additional reminder. 
 That's nothing," he related blandly. "I study catechism in church. 
 Reverend Lee, he teaches that, and he's smart, too." 
 
 But the Lustigs boy did not know nor care what all this meant; 
 and thus, having driven themselves into unknown realms, they 
 
 IH
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 abrupdy changed the subject by referring to things of greater mo- 
 ment to them. 
 
 "Say, Ludie," Charlie drawled, "have you seen my dove 
 eggs?" 
 
 The three repaired instantly to the dovecote that Charlie had 
 built in the back yard of dry goods boxes given by Mr. Lustig, and 
 instantly forgot every other matter while inspecting the wonder- 
 fully made little white eggs. For some time they glowed over 
 them, and then, having commented to the full extent of their know- 
 ledge, the three young hopefuls sauntered down Bristol street to 
 see what the Mutchler boys were doing. 
 
 It was cherry season, and the Mutchler offsprings were found 
 picking Mrs. Blodgett's sour cherries, an employment in which the 
 three new arrivals soon busied themselves with such diligence and 
 interest, that the dove eggs and Hebrew lessons were for the time 
 overlooked. 
 
 But this is certain; every boy who lived in Bristol knew before 
 he ate his dinner that day that Ludwig and Gottlieb were going 
 to take Hebrew lessons of the stranger in Coy street; and futher- 
 more, that odd undersized individual, who had shot out of space 
 and landed in Canaway, was none other than a wonderfully learned 
 man, who taught music and languages and many mysterious things. 
 
 The children's guileless and inexpensive advertising explained 
 many an incident which the professor experienced during his brief, 
 but bustling career in Canaway. It accounted in particular for 
 the cohort of youngsters that surrounded the rural Beth-Hamid- 
 rash on the afternoon when Gottlieb and Ludwig, attired in the 
 new sailor suits their father brought from Rochester, wandered 
 over to Coy street on the most solemn and awe-inspiring journey 
 of their young lives. Every boy on Bristol and the adjoining streets 
 accompanied them. Each was anxious to see a Hebrew teacher. 
 Had they other motives such were not patent. Even so, they 
 
 115
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 intended to introduce themselves by the favorite method, which 
 country lads have of making the acquiantance of as tranger, that 
 is to play some deviltry. A mutual interest, which often continues 
 through a lifetime, may thus be compacted. 
 
 In this instance, however, the Canaway boys were moved 
 by higher impulses. They were at least as eager as the Lustigs 
 were to see what species of a man or beast a Hebrew teacher was. 
 
 And, it is fair to say that the meeting was as great an event 
 for the professor's family as it was for the lads. For when Ludwig 
 and Gottlieb, with steps slow and heavy, walked into the yard, 
 they found the professor's family awaiting them. The teacher 
 himself in a solemn black but shabby Prince Albert coat, graciously 
 received them at the door as befits a professor of Hebrew; and then 
 introduced them to his shrivelled wife, who cast servile and sad 
 smiles on them as they marched through the narrow, uncarpeted 
 hall way, passing en route a retinue of girls and boys, each of 
 whom was scantily clad and looked thin and hungry. 
 
 The coming seemed to have been formally planned. And 
 how could any one help finding the spot? Every boy in Canaway 
 knew this old, green, brick house. Tradition reported, with self- 
 evident falsity, that it was built in the days of Noah. But ever 
 since the discovery of America it had been uninhabited because, 
 so the boys said, the house was haunted. Though it was not 
 haunted, almost every window pane in it was broken, every blind 
 off one or other of its hinges ,and every brick loose in the chimney. 
 But when this rejected and dejected dwelling was invested with 
 scholastic dignity and converted into a studio, as well as a school 
 of languages, all Canaway must needs celebrate the, at least par- 
 tial, rehabilitation of this old and somewhat dilapidated dwelling. 
 This was a new epoch in the history of the town. When, in 
 addition, the old green, brick house was decorated with a weather 
 worn sign, bearing the singular legend, "Professor Hyman Gold- 
 
 116
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 stein, D. D., professor of music and languages," the Canaway 
 boys felt it their duty to use the sign as a target. For what other 
 purpose were old signs for? 
 
 Long after the Lustigs lads had lost themselves in the cavern- 
 ous interior the cohort of youngsters had not departed. Some 
 hung around the building; others threw themselves on the uncut 
 grass of the front yard; others began the time-honored practice 
 of throwing stones at the sign; and then, every little while, the more 
 impatient ones cried out; "Ludie, oh, Ludie, come on! We're 
 goin' swimmin'!" 
 
 'Tis well that the timorous Lustigs heard merely the faint ec- 
 hoes of the voices of their comrades. It speaks well for their self- 
 control that they fastened their attention on the peculiar presence 
 of their teacher, who had escorted them to the front room which 
 was to be their seat of learning. And it revealed a fine sense of 
 propriety that they gazed steadily at him instead of looking at 
 the boxes and bags of unpacked furniture, and open bags and boxes 
 of peanuts, oranges and other Italian commodities deposited care- 
 lessly around the uncarpeted room. Fright, more than curiosity 
 may have impelled them to attend to their instructor. He had 
 planted himself squarely before them; and ere they had found a 
 comfortable position on the hard wooden chair, he began to lecture 
 about the majesty of all languages, with peculiar reference to 
 Hebrew. 
 
 He was a rapid speaker, making use of words they had never 
 heard. But suddenly he interrupted himself. Staring at their 
 bashful, half-frightened faces, he asked curiously: "Boys, are 
 you twins?" 
 
 "No", Ludwig answered shyly. "We are Jews." 
 
 "Yah, yah, I know!" the professor snapped irritably. "Are 
 you twins?" 
 
 "I am the youngest," Gottlieb ventured. 
 117
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "You are a hacham!" the professor exclaimed, patting his 
 head. "Now my dear youths, we begin the study of our mother 
 tongue. Hebrew is the guardian of our holy scriptures. The 
 angels discourse in Hebrew. The cherubim whisper their divine 
 syllables in it. Ah, my children, when your tongues are touched 
 by fire, the exclamations of your soul are proclaimed in Hebrew. 
 We now begin the study of all subordinate languages. As we 
 begin French, Latin, Greek, as we begin violin or piano instruction, 
 so we begin Hebrew with the alphabet, known among the lexi- 
 cographers as the aleph-beth." 
 
 The A, B, O" Gottlieb suggested, encouraged by his former 
 success. "We study it in school." 
 
 "Good; the professor cried, patting him again on the head. 
 "You are a wise lad. Study my son, and learn. Some day you 
 will be a signor." 
 
 Ludwig turned a bewildered eye on his younger brother, 
 who seemed to have won the Professor's favor suddenly and with 
 astonishing ease, and thereafter deferred all questions to Gottlieb. 
 
 "Well, now," began the professor, "say after me: Aleph a, a." 
 
 "Aleph, a, a; aleph, beth, gimmel; gimmel, daleth, hey," 
 sang the professor of music and languages. 
 
 They imitated his intonation. 
 
 Their intonation was exact, and received instant approval. 
 
 "Ah," Professor Goldstein exclaimed gleefully, "now both 
 of you are instructible." 
 
 Whirling around, he snatched an open primer from a box and 
 handed it to Gottlieb. Both boys laid hold of the covers and held 
 the book firmly as the professor, pointing to each letter, pronounces 
 rt and had them repeat it after him in his sing-song style. With 
 singular adaptability they mastered the pronounciation, and had 
 learned the name and form of the camel shaped lamed, when, 
 with sudden violence, a broadside of pebbles hit the closed shutters. 
 
 118
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 The professor jumped to the window. 
 
 "Such loafers," he fumed savagely. "Wait I will reprimand 
 them for their torments? I will communicate with the police. 
 Such imbecilities!" 
 
 But the Lustigs smothered their laughter and were reading 
 along the bottom of the page where the lonesome shin and sin 
 are located, when the drawling tones of Charlie Ashley came 
 through the window: 
 
 "Ludie, oh, Ludie! Come onl We're goin' swimmin'I" 
 
 "Ach!" the professor ejaculated, scowling, that's the boy! 
 Does the boy cogitate on the holy languages? No. The boy 
 never touches his heartstrings with divine speech. Do not think 
 about them. When we have completed our instruction I will 
 give you a momentum." 
 
 The boys looked wistfully at an open bag of peanuts and 
 oranges. The professor noted the direction of their gaze and 
 smiled. 
 
 "Yes, yes that too," he said hurriedly, pointing to the fruit 
 "but something better than all things material. Indulge me, I 
 will read you some poetry. Youths, do you know I am a poet? 
 Furthermore, have you ever lisped poetry?" 
 
 He turned to Gottlieb who had heretofore answered all ques- 
 tions promptly and in a satisfactory manner. But the unhappy 
 boy knew not whereof the professor spoke and hung his head 
 in dejection. 
 
 "Ah, poetry is the chant of the celestials," the professor ex- 
 plained with melting sympathy; and full of anticipated pleas- 
 ures, he suddenly darted from the room and as suddenly returned, 
 his face wreathed in smiles and his eyes beaming. Holding a mass 
 of wrapping paper in his trembling hands he, began to sway his 
 body, and as he swayed, he intoned musically, as if he were rend- 
 ering an anthem, these lines: 
 
 119
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 "The night is dark, and not a star 
 
 Doth shine in all the empty space; 
 I am a stranger and alone, 
 
 A dethroned prince of a homeless race." 
 
 "Isn't that fine?" he said, enthusiastically, kissing the tips of 
 his fingers. But the boys stared at him vaguely, much amazed to 
 see tears streaming down his face, as he continued to murmur the 
 remaining verses. 
 
 "Listen to this!" he said after a pause. And having selected 
 another poem for recitation, he tossed his head back, as if he were 
 about to sing* and began: 
 
 "Count not my tears, O Lord, my God; 
 
 With tears I pray to thee; 
 My tears have knit a ladder 
 
 Whereon I climb to thee." 
 
 Copious tears filled his eyes at the conclusion of this verse, 
 and he was unable to continue either reciting the subsequent stan- 
 zas, of which there were many, or to resume the instruction. The 
 tears welled from his eyes, flowing down the grooves of his 
 face and melting in the thick meshes of his beard. 
 
 "Are they not divine, boys?" he asked, kissing the tips of his 
 fingers. 
 
 "Ah," he sighed languidly, "a sweet singer of Israel left per- 
 ishing in a foreign landl Shield of David redeem me!, Hark- 
 en to this youths!" 
 
 Tears were gathering in the boy's eyes, but the professor 
 did not see them. Shuffling the scrappy pieces of paper hurriedly, 
 he selected the desired poem, and then read slowly: 
 
 120
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 "How burdened are we sons of men, 
 
 Where'er our steps are lead; 
 There is no peace for that poor soul 
 
 Who daily begs his bread. 
 
 The sheep or cattle in the field, 
 
 Or dogs of a city's street: 
 They find their food a whitened bone 
 
 Beneath their idle feet; 
 
 But man, God's child, he hungry goes, 
 
 And starves for a crust of bread, 
 And all the joys my poor soul knows 
 
 Is buried with the dead." 
 
 Because the professor was in tears, the boys thought they 
 ought to weep too, and they did. 
 
 "Boys, boys," he said sorrowfully, "you will never compre- 
 hend my position. Never, never! God spare you that catas- 
 trophe. But my own poor children, how they must suffer on my 
 account. 
 
 He was indeed overcome. Burying his head in his hands, 
 he wept with a sad disconsolate wail, heart-rending and grew- 
 some. His sobbing now still further affected Ludwig and Gott- 
 lieb, and so loud did they cry that their lamentations attracted 
 the professors notice. Realizing the futility of provoking need- 
 less tears, he composed himself, brushed his own tears aside and, 
 resting his hands gently on his scholars head's spoke softly to them. 
 
 "Gentle, my lads," he said, methought in America all Jews 
 hard-hearted and stiffnecked. In country towns, alas! methought 
 the Jew turned goy, No, no! The Jewish heart is ever moved 
 by distress. God made it so. See, even you princes of fortune, 
 you feel for your teacher. I espy that in you. So now let us con- 
 tinue our tutorization." 
 
 121
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 He pointed to the open primer and sang: 
 
 "Aleph, a, a: aleph, beth, gimmel; gimmel, daleth, hey; 
 hey, vay, zayin." 
 
 So the lesson continued to the end of the hour. 
 
 Not one of their companions was waiting for them when the 
 Lustig boys emerged from the house, each sucking an immense 
 juicy orange. Devouring the succulent fruit, they sauntered down 
 Coy street, into Bristol street, toward their home beyond Sucker 
 Brook. 
 
 When Herman Lustig returned at supper time from his store, 
 he called the youngsters from the backyard, where they were dig- 
 ging a cave. 
 
 "Well, boys, how did it go? What did you do?" he asked. 
 
 "He threw kisses at us, ancl we cried." Gottlieb answered 
 immediately. 
 
 "Didn't you leam your aleph, beth?" 
 
 "Aleph, a, a; aleph, beth, gimmel; gimmel' daleth, hey," 
 they sang, repeating the professors' intonations. 
 
 "Is that as far as you got?" 
 
 "No, no; we shall know all of the alphabet," Ludwig said 
 proudly, and thereupon both convinced their father that the hour 
 under the professors' instruction was profitably spent by reciting 
 fluently the entire Hebrew alphabet. 
 
 "Ah," Lustig said with evident pleasure, that's fine. I give 
 each of you five cents because you have learned it so well." 
 
 "Give my money to the professor," Ludwig said. "He's 
 poor." 
 
 "Mine too, papa," Gottlieb echoed warmly. "He's hungry. 
 He said he was and that dogs ate bones and he couldn't yes he 
 did. And he likes me." 
 
 Recounting the incidents of their lesson was the 
 chief diversion of the evening; and Lustig listened intently to all 
 
 122
 
 GOLDSTEIN 
 
 . a; alrfik, t>tt)i, gimmtl; yimmtl. Jaleth. lie
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 they had to say along these lines, on this and many subsequent 
 evenings of the summer vacation. The boys continued their lessons 
 regularly and faithfully during July and the first week in August, 
 when the long expected Barnum circus came to town. 
 
 A circus is the annual carnival of a country town. Before 
 sunrise the youths of the place are astir. In Canaway, as in most 
 of such places, attention hangs on the event. Many a boy remains 
 awake all night in order to be up in time to see the circus train 
 come in and unload. Of great importance to all is such a show 
 in Canaway. But with the advent of Bamum's circus, the bril- 
 liant career ot the professor came to an untimely end. 
 
 In defense of Barnum 's let it be known that on its account 
 the worthy professor did not leave Canaway. But on circus 
 day he became convinced that the place did not appreciate his 
 imposing citizenship, for then culminated the series of torments 
 to which he had been subjected by the younger generation of 
 his townfolk. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb were unaware of the many pranks 
 played on the professor by the ingenuous youths of Bristol street. 
 They were obviously too young either to engage in the many 
 midnight prowls or to play "hunt the grey." The big boys, those 
 who wore long trousers, could endure the strain of that game, and 
 then only the older boys were sufficiently skillful to attach unde- 
 tected a tick-tack to some one's window. On Saturday night 
 only, the Lustig lads were permitted to go down town after dark. 
 
 So it came to pass that they never heard of the frequency 
 with which the professor reported these anoyances to Hiram Doo- 
 little, the town constable (there was no policeman in Canaway; 
 policemen were invented for cities;) nor of the many times the 
 professor had harangued the youngsters on the front lawn, long 
 after the town clock had tolled the curfew. 
 
 Had the Lustigs engaged in any of these dare-deviltries, they 
 
 123
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 would have understood what Charlie Ashley, the Mutchler boys 
 or Will Andrews meant, when they asked where the professor 
 kept his "stove-pipe*" The Lustigs did not indeed know in what 
 part of the studio or boudoir the professor bestowed his headgear. 
 Nor did they understand that the boys were hinting when they 
 asked them if they ever heard the professor lecture. These veiled 
 references were lost on them, although they confessed they had 
 been lectured. With familiarity came indifference. Frequent- 
 ly their teacher reproved them for carlessness. But never had they 
 heard him lecture the village boys. It had not been their fortune 
 to hear him shriek: 
 
 "Wait! I communicate your imbecilities to the police loafers!" 
 
 The Lustigs had never been a party of the chorus of the young- 
 sters who verbally repeated his threat, and then added with rural 
 disdain: 
 
 "Ah, come off!" 
 
 "Insolence!" the professor would yell back, "know you not 
 that I am a teacher? Have you no respect for learning, you igno- 
 ramuses? Am I so distinguished that you maltreat my repose, and 
 annihilate the tranquility of my family!" , 
 
 Hyman Goldstein, D. D., professor of music and languages, 
 was not the first nor the last to hear the derisive laughter of the 
 gentiles. But the town boys were not maliciously inclined. They 
 were playful, and the impressive professor afforded them one of 
 a very few sources of amusement. 
 
 Wherever he went^he was sure to have a following. And 
 as domestic exigencies compelled him to move about frequently* 
 with his baskets of fruit, he was constantly driven to desperate 
 straits. 
 
 On circus day the battle ended. Within a few months he had 
 succeeded in making himself one of the best known characters in Can- 
 away. His whiskers and his stove-pipe had singled him out on 
 
 124
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 the street; and his retorts to the boys were quoted in all parts of 
 the town. Besides his poems in the village paper popularized 
 him jocularly with the literary people and the lawyers. Cana- 
 way had never had a real poet, nor had it ever bought fruit and 
 garden truck from one who wore a stove-pipe hat. Whatever 
 it was that moved his townsfolk to patronize him, he did a thrifty 
 vegetable business for a time; but it did not last long; for the boys 
 practically drove him away. 
 
 The Professor was alive to the profitable advantage that a 
 fruit stand would be on circus day. With a discerning eye he had 
 pitched his tent near the depot. Over some clothes poles he spread 
 a bed sheet, beneath which on the dry goods boxes which Lustig 
 gave him he piled small mountains of oranges and peanuts, while 
 into a big wash-tub he poured gallons of diluted lemonade. Ap- 
 pointing his older son and daughter to stand guard behind the 
 the counter, he stationed himself without the shadow of his tent, 
 calling aloud to everyone: 
 
 "Lemonade! lemonade! Peanuts and oranges!" 
 
 It may have been the rest of his attire, but it was particularly 
 the hat that attracted the rustics. They had never seen anyone 
 so arrayed. It appeared to them a part of the circus attraction 
 to look at a small, coatless fellow, wearing a high silk hat that 
 slightly sheltered a strong but sad face, and who was eyeing in- 
 tently the passersby and chanting to them persuadingly, in tones 
 that remotely resembled a melody: 
 "Peanuts and oranges! Lemonade and candies! 
 Lemonade, ladies! Lemonade and candy!" 
 
 The throng on the street thickened. From the surrounding 
 towns and the rural districts streamed into Canaway the farmers 
 and others. Main street was packed with people awaiting the 
 circus parade. 
 
 The Canaway boys who had been on the circus grounds 
 125
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 since dawn and had witnessed the bustling method of pitching 
 the tents, were now drifting back to town to watch the procession 
 from the crowded curbstone on Main street. But the more rest- 
 less ones circulated among the crowd, and in good time a detach- 
 ment of Cana way's choice spirits, the Bristol street gang, discovered 
 the professor's tent. 
 
 "Hello, Professor Deedee!" they yelled, familiarly. The 
 constant mention by the Lustig boys of Goldstein's theological 
 title provided the rest with the needed nickname, which all town 
 boys invent to honor each of their favorites. 
 
 Their greeting was righteously ignored. 
 
 "Peanuts and lemonade! Oranges and candies!" sang the 
 professor. 
 
 "Peanuts and lemonade!" the boys shouted, imitating his tones. 
 
 "Lemonade! Lemonade! "sang the professor, unheedingly. 
 
 "Lemonade, made in the shade with a spade by the aid of 
 an old maid," one urchin shouted; while his companions in a semi- 
 circle, closing in on the booth or tent, took up the strain instantly, 
 adding to and improving it so that the professor heard a saucy 
 lot of lusty throats cry out: 
 
 "Lemonade, made with a spade in the shade, by an old 
 maid." 
 
 Goldstein's patience was tried. The idle throng, amused 
 by the humorous and somewhat musical wrangle began to en- 
 close them. When the Lustigs, who, like other town boys, feel 
 the superiority of the local resident, found themselves at the end 
 of their wanderings at the railroad station, they overheard the fa- 
 miliar voice of the professor exclaiming excitedly: 
 
 "Imbeciles, begone with you! Loafers, vagabonds! hie away! 
 You are injuring my business. Begone with you, hoodlums." 
 
 Angered by the persistent disobedience of his tormentors, 
 he darted toward the bolder with a threatening gesture, and they 
 
 126
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 instantly retaliated by coming nearer to his tent, and shaking the 
 unsteady tent poles and pretending to grab some of the fruit. The 
 sales stopped, for the crowd was more interested in the scrimmage 
 than the wares. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb looked on with fear, blanched by the 
 possibilities of the situation. The agonized appeal of their teacher 
 aroused their sympathy and moved them to tears. 
 
 "Pity me, my good friends," he cried to the gawking crowd. 
 "I am a poor man. Don't you see you are taking the bread from 
 my mouth?" 
 
 The crowd was unmoved, however, and a country bully, 
 inflamed, perhaps, by the hard cider and impelled by mischief, 
 pushed some one against the stand, upsetting the fruit and lemonade 
 and wrecking the tent. Oranges rolled over the ground, while 
 the lemonade made its own rivulets, wetting the place underfoot 
 and forming many pools. 
 
 The catastrophe paralyzed the professor. For a moment 
 he stood without motion or speech, and then winding his arms 
 about his crying sons and daughters, who had crept out from under 
 the ruins of the booth, he himself burst into tears and wailing, 
 but suppressed his own feelings presently, in order to soothe his 
 son and daughter. 
 
 His grief softened the heart of the mob. Many a rustic who 
 had stared open-mouthed and dully at him now set about to pick 
 up the fruit and restore the tent. But all the while a silence was 
 over them, and few ventured to move, none to pilfer the fruit. The 
 crowd merely stood and gawked. Then a broadshouldered 
 red-faced man pushed his way through and facing the crowd 
 and shaking his fist at them, said in his country drawl: 
 
 "See here! The fellers that's done this 'er thing's goin' to 
 pay for it and I know who it is. Any fellow what moves from here 
 before he settles up, that feller's goin' to wrastle me!" 
 
 127
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 He threw off his coat and flung it to his wife, who carrying 
 a baby on one arm, tried to restrain her husband with the other. 
 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb did not wait the outcome. They ran 
 to their father's store, attracting attention by their loud cries and 
 causing everyone they met to ask them what had happened. 
 
 Lustig's Rochester Clothing Store was crowded when the 
 boys came in, sobbing and rubbing the tears from their eyes. 
 
 "What's this?" Lustig demanded, sharply, leaving his cus- 
 tomer. 
 
 "The boys wanted to kill our Hebrew teacher Ludwig blub- 
 bered. 
 
 But the professor was fully repaid and all damages repaired. 
 When the gorgeous band-wagon that leads the parade loomed 
 into view on lower Main street, he had his tent restored, his oranges 
 replaced, and the lemonade renewed in another and better vessel. 
 He was plying to a thrifty trade. His sympathizers had increased 
 apace, and his fruit was sold out again and again. 
 
 But the accident did not alter his intention. "I leave this 
 hamlet," he confided to Ludwig and Gottlieb the following day. 
 I have just been appointed Chief Rabbi of the Rhine Street Ahavas 
 Israel in Rochester, and I must obey the summons. This is my 
 vocation; and now at last fortune destines me to better ends. I 
 need it; God knows I need it!" 
 
 He sighed and blew his nose vigorously in his large red and 
 white bandana handkerchief, and then he shook each boy by the 
 hand. 
 
 "Hearken, lads. I am proud to have met you country youths. 
 Ludwig and Gottlieb Lustig, always be proud of your Jewish 
 heritage, and some day, perhaps, you will read all of my poems 
 in one immense publication like Shakespere. Some day the sweet 
 singer of David will be famous, and you will remember your 
 teacher, nicht whar?" 
 
 128
 
 A COUNTRY CHEDER 
 
 Then he blessed them, gave each an orange and a bag of pea- 
 nuts, and sent them on their way. This was the last they saw of 
 Hyman Goldstein, D. D., professor of music and languages. 
 
 129
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Now that you have read what has been related about the 
 Lustig boys, what they did on the Jewish holidays, how their 
 father spent his childhood in Schwersenz, how they learned a little 
 of Hebrew from that funny man, Hyman Goldstein, D., D., pro- 
 fessor of music and languages; how pretty the rural village of Can- 
 away is and how charming the lake, you, my dear little readers, 
 may like to hear what became of the Lustigs. And if I were near 
 you would ask me what became of them, just as Ludwig and Gott- 
 lieb used to ask their father concerning anything they wanted to 
 know. 
 
 . Thev did not always remain in Canaway; and somehow 
 this seems to be a sad confession, which for truth's sake it is nec- 
 essary to make, for in the country and in country villages life is sim- 
 pler and more even than in cities, and men and women 
 are healthier and happier when they get the pure breath of the fields 
 and woodlands than they are when they live in the close, narrow 
 city streets and in the houses that have, so to speak, no elbow 
 room. The Lustigs moved away from Canaway to the city which 
 they had often visited with unfeigned delight. They went to 
 Rochester. 
 
 Ludwig was thirteen years old and Gottlieb eleven and five 
 months when their father sold his Canaway clothing store. He 
 sold, so he said because he had a good chance to go into a bigger 
 business in Rochester. Having lived in Canaway seventeen 
 years lacking three weeks, he took it into his head that that was 
 
 130
 
 POSCRIPT 
 
 long enough to stay in one small comer of the world, and he 
 decided that he would go to a larger town and spend the remainder 
 of his days there. He felt sure that in such a place there would 
 be more frequent and better opportunities to improve the con- 
 dition of his family. Besides, he desired the advantage of Jewish 
 society to give the boys the companionship of Jewish children 
 and a wider field in which to expand, to grow up in and become 
 notable persons. His intention he made known to his sons. He 
 was not unselfish in his ambitions. He wished to be a whole 
 sale dealer i n clothing and the principal in a large establishment. 
 He felt that he would then be of importance in the business world: 
 and every man whether he will confess it or not, likes to feel at 
 least once in a while his own importance. 
 
 Lustig saw that he could never cut much of a figure among 
 merchants if he were to stay in Canaway. Some of his distant 
 relatives had remained in cities and were now proprietors of large 
 clothing houses, doing business only at wholesale. They had dis- 
 tanced him in the race for wealth and he was a little piqued that 
 they had forged ahead while he was trifling his time in the retail 
 trade. 
 
 In those Canaway days when he went to Rochester with the 
 boys and was walking with them through the streets he would say: 
 
 "Some day we will live in this city." 
 
 And Ludwig would answer: "Oh.papa, how old will we 
 be then?" 
 
 The matter of their ages did not interest Gottlieb. He had 
 another question more important to him than that. "What will we 
 do, papa?" he asked. 
 
 But Lustig would smile at both of these questions and tell 
 his sons the many ways they would have of amusing themselves in 
 the city: how they would go to dancing school, to parties on 
 
 131
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 Chanukkah, attend the Sunday school picnics and go to the thea- 
 ters on Saturday afternoons with their mother. 
 
 He said this and many more things of the sort to awaken or 
 stimulate their interest in the prospects he .entertained of some 
 day living in the city. He did not wish the boys to feel satisfied 
 with an easy life, such as Canaway afforded them. He wanted them 
 to imbibe the American restlessness which comes from the desire 
 of every American boy or girl to better their condition. He be- 
 lieved that to be satisfied with one's lot meant stagnation, and all 
 stagnant things or persons are useless. He wanted his boys to 
 be enterprising, and so, useful. That was the leading trait in 
 his character and he wished to impart it to his sons. 
 
 His idea was, and it was a very good idea, that while a man 
 is alive he should be very much alive. 
 
 It was a long rime, however, before Lustig could see his way 
 clear to take the hazardous step of giving up his business in Can- 
 away and moving to Rochester. The opportunity finally came 
 to sell out and he resolved to embrace it. But he had already 
 put off the fulfillment of his promise to the boys that some day 
 they would live in Rochester, until they had lost faith in it and 
 thought the day would never come. Nevertheless, the older 
 Lustig grew the more anxious he was to live in the city. 
 
 One summer he made more than the usual number of trips 
 to Rochester, and on a night in June, when he had that afternoon 
 returned from the city he called his sons to his side and said to them: 
 
 "Well, my sons, at last we are going to move to Rochester." 
 
 "When?" inquired Ludwig, evidently still in doubt. 
 
 "As soon as we can pack up. I have sold my business here and 
 have been taken into partnership with a firm of clothiers in Roches- 
 ter." 
 
 "Hurrah! Hurrah!" the boys exclaimed gleefully. 
 
 But their father was not yet prepared to enter into their mood. 
 132
 
 POSCRIPT 
 
 He alone realized the responsibilities, the daring, the uncertainty 
 of the transition. He looked careworn and troubled. When 
 we have sought out the object and aim which we have been long- 
 ing and striving for year after year we see that it is not all our an- 
 ticipations painted it, and, instead of being elated, we are dejected. 
 The thing itself is so different from what we thought it wonld be. 
 
 The boys seeing their father so strangely gloomy, so quiet and 
 abstracted and with apparently nothing further to say about their 
 moving to the city, left him and ran out of doors to let their play- 
 fellows hear the startling news. In a little while every lad on 
 Bristol street, and shortly after that everybody in Canaway, knew 
 that the Lustigs had sold out and were going to move to Roch- 
 ester. In the Lustig household weeks of activity followed. All 
 the furniture was packed and crated, and the boys were sent from 
 neighbor to neighbor for a night's lodging, as the exigencies of the 
 case required. However, one Sunday evening, after a week 
 in which all the household goods had been loaded on a freight 
 car, Lustig told his family that this would be their last Sunday 
 in Canaway. He had already begun active business in Rochester, 
 and he had stayed in the city six days a week, returning to his home 
 only for the seventh day. 
 
 The boys, of course, were happier than their father. Since 
 he went to the city and entered business there he had not been very 
 light-hearted, but as this Sunday was the last that he and his family 
 would live in Canaway, he proposed to celebrate the day, and 
 in this manner to take a long carriage ride around the town. 
 
 They drove all that afternoon, seeing familar scenes, visiting 
 old friends and saying good-bye to them. Herman Lustig him- 
 self was very sober, and Mrs. Lustig, as she parted with her neigh- 
 bors, was often in tears, but the boys laughed nearly all the time and 
 waited with impatience the dawning of the morrow. Perhaps 
 they were not particularly interested in visiting for the last time the 
 
 133
 
 CANAWAY AND THE LUSTIGS 
 
 many familiar places which have been described in this book 
 but Herman Lustig was. The lake dimpled, and seemed as if 
 it were grieved; the hills frowned disapproval of the family's de- 
 parture; and over the town hovered a soft cloud of early summer. 
 Here, in the place where Herman Lustig had begun his business 
 career, would ever dwell tender associations of his life in America. 
 But the town was oon to be to him scarcely more than a shadow. 
 
 On Monday morning he and his family left. The Elmira 
 Express rolled into the depot at eight-forty, and five minutes later 
 carried them away. They caught a swift glimpse of lower Main 
 street and the lake and as the train swung around the bend back of 
 the town hall, they passed the burial ground and brewery and flie 
 hills, rolling off to the west, golden with the sunlight of their 
 changeful day, Canaway was for them little more than a dream. 
 
 What they did in Rochester is not of interest to us at present, 
 nor is it of immediate concern. We have lived with the Lustigs 
 in Canaway; and now that they have parted with that pretty place, 
 let us part with them, too. 
 
 But this I feel obliged to say that often the boys in later life 
 revisited their native town. They recalled their experiences there, 
 and their thoughts flew back to the place with affection and with 
 the yearning we all must feel for the days that are no more. 
 
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