The collection was handed over to the Holy Society--in other words, the Burial Society. "P'raps you call that vork?" concluded Yankele, in timid challenge. "Of course I do. What do you call it?" "Valking exercise. It keeps me healty. Vonce von of my customers (from whom I schnorred half-a-crown a veek) said he was tired of my coming and getting it every Friday. He vanted to compound mid me for six pound a year, but I vouldn't." "But it was a very fair offer. He only deducted ten shillings for the interest on his money." "Dat I didn't mind. But I vanted a pound more for his depriving me of my valking exercise, and dat he vouldn't pay, so he still goes on giving me de half-crown a veek. Some of dese charitable persons are terribly mean. But vat I vant to say is dat I carry de byx mostly in the streets vere my customers lay, and it gives me more standing as a Schnorrer." "No, no, that is a delusion. What! Are you weak-minded enough to believe that? All the philanthropists say so, of course, but surely you know that schnorring and work should never be mixed. A man cannot do two things properly. He must choose his profession, and stick to it. A friend of mine once succumbed to the advice of the philanthropists instead of asking mine. He had one of the best provincial rounds in the kingdom, but in every town he weakly listened to the lectures of the president of the congregation inculcating work, and at last he actually invested the savings of years in jewellery, and went round trying to peddle it. The presidents all bought something to encourage him (though they beat down the price so that there was no profit in it), and they all expressed their pleasure at his working for his living, and showing a manly independence. 'But I schnorr also,' he reminded them, holding out his hand when they had finished. It was in vain. No one gave him a farthing. He had blundered beyond redemption. At one blow he had destroyed one of the most profitable connections a Schnorrer ever had, and without even getting anything for the goodwill. So if you will be guided by me, Yankele, you will do nothing to assist the philanthropists to keep you. It destroys their satisfaction. A Schnorrer cannot be too careful. And once you begin to work, where are you to draw the line?" "But you be a marriage-broker yourself," said Yankele imprudently. "That!" thundered Manasseh angrily, "That is not work! That is pleasure!" "Vy look! Dere is Hennery Simons," cried Yankele, hoping to divert his attention. But he only made matters worse. Henry Simons was a character variously known as the Tumbling Jew, Harry the Dancer, and the Juggling Jew. He was afterwards to become famous as the hero of a slander case which deluged England with pamphlets for and against, but for the present he had merely outraged the feelings of his fellow Schnorrers by budding out in a direction so rare as to suggest preliminary baptism. He stood now playing antic and sleight-of-hand tricks--surrounded by a crowd--a curious figure crowned by a velvet skull-cap from which wisps of hair protruded, with a scarlet handkerchief thrust through his girdle. His face was an olive oval, bordered by ragged tufts of beard and stamped with melancholy. "You see the results of working," cried Manasseh. "It brings temptation to work on Sabbath. That Epicurean there is profaning the Holy Day. Come away! A Schnorrer is far more certain of The-World-To-Come. No, decidedly, I will not give my daughter to a worker, or to a Schnorrer who makes illegitimate profits." "But I make de profits all de same," persisted Yankele. "You make them to-day--but to-morrow? There is no certainty about them. Work of whatever kind is by its very nature unreliable. At any moment trade may be slack. People may become less pious, and you lose your Synagogue-knocking. Or more pious--and 29 they won't want congregation-men." "But new Synagogues spring up," urged Yankele. "New Synagogues are full of enthusiasm," retorted Manasseh. "The members are their own congregation-men." Yankele had his roguish twinkle. "At first," he admitted, "but de Schnorrer vaits his time." Manasseh shook his head. "Schnorring is the only occupation that is regular all the year round," he said. "Everything else may fail--the greatest commercial houses may totter to the ground; as it is written, 'He humbleth the proud.' But the Schnorrer is always secure. Whoever falls, there are always enough left to look after him. If you were a father, Yankele, you would understand my feelings. How can a man allow his daughter's future happiness to repose on a basis so uncertain as work? No, no. What do you make by your district visiting? Everything turns on that." "Tventy-five shilling a veek!" "Really?" "Law of Moses! In sixpences, shillings, and half-crowns. Vy in Houndsditch alone, I have two streets all except a few houses." "But are they safe? Population shifts. Good streets go down." "Dat tventy-five shillings is as safe as Mocatta's business. I have it all written down at home--you can inspect de books if you choose." "No, no," said Manasseh, with a grand wave of his stick. "If I did not believe you, I should not entertain your proposal for a mo-ment. It rejoices me exceedingly to find you have devoted so much attention to this branch. I always held strongly that the rich should be visited in their own homes, and I grieve to see this personal touch, this contact with the very people to whom you give the good deeds, being replaced by lifeless circulars. One owes it to one's position in life to afford the wealthy classes the opportunity of charity warm from the heart; they should not be neglected and driven in their turn to write cheques in cold blood, losing all that hu- man sympathy which comes from personal intercourse--as it is written, 'Charity delivers from death.' But do you think charity that is given publicly through a secretary and advertised in annual reports has so great a redeeming power as that slipped privately into the hands of the poor man, who makes a point of keeping secret from every donor what he has received from the others?" "I am glad you don't call collecting de money vork," said Yankele, with a touch of sarcasm which was lost on da Costa. "No, so long as the donor can't show any 'value received' in return. And there's more friendship in such a call, Yankele, than in going to a house of mourning to pray for a fee." "Oh," said Yankele, wincing. "Den p'raps you strike out all my Year-Time item!" "Year-Time! What's that?" "Don't you know?" said the Pole, astonished. "Ven a man has Year-Time, he feels charitable for de day." "Do you mean when he commemorates the anniversary of the death of one of his family? We Sephardim call that 'making years'! But are there enough Year-Times, as you call them, in your Synagogue?" "Dere might be more--I only make about fifteen pounds. Our colony is, as you say, too new. De Globe Road Cemetery is as empty as a Synagogue on veek-days. De faders have left deir faders on de Continent, and kept many Year-Times out of de country. But in a few years many faders and moders must die off here, and every parent leaves two or tree sons to have Year-Times, and every child two or tree broders and a fader. Den every day more German Jews come here--vich means more and more to die. I tink indeed it vould be fair to double this item." "No, no; stick to facts. It is an iniquity to speculate in the misfortunes of our fellow-creatures." "Somebody must die dat I may live," retorted Yankele roguishly; "de vorld is so created. Did you not quote, 'Charity delivers from death'? If people lived for ever, Schnorrers could not live at all." 30 "Hush! The world could not exist without Schnorrers. As it is written, 'And Repentance and Prayer and Charity avert the evil decree.' Charity is put last--it is the climax--the greatest thing on earth. And the Schnorrer is the greatest man on earth; for it stands in the Talmud, 'He who causes is greater than he who does.' Therefore, the Schnorrer who causes charity is even greater than he who gives it." "Talk of de devil," said Yankele, who had much difficulty in keeping his countenance when Manasseh became magnificent and dithy-rambic. "Vy, dere is Greenbaum, whose fader vas buried yesterday. Let us cross over by accident and vish him long life." "Greenbaum dead! Was that the Greenbaum on 'Change, who was such a rascal with the wenches?" "De same," said Yankele. Then approaching the son, he cried, "Good Sabbath, Mr. Greenbaum; I vish you long life. Vat a blow for de community!" "It comforts me to hear you say so," said the son, with a sob in his voice. "Ah, yes!" said Yankele chokingly. "Your fader vas a great and good man--just my size." "'YOUR FADER VAS A GREAT AND GOOD MAN--JUST MY SIZE.'" "I've already given them away to Baruch the glazier," replied the mourner. "But he has his glaziering," remonstrated Yankele. "I have noting but de clothes I stand in, and dey don't fit me half so vell as your fader's vould have done." "Baruch has been very unfortunate," replied Greenbaum defensively. "He had a misfortune in the winter, and he has never got straight yet. A child of his died, and, unhappily, just when the snowballing was at its height, so that he lost seven days by the mourning." And he moved away. "Did I not say work was uncertain?" cried Manasseh. "Not all," maintained the Schnorrer. "What of de six guineas I make by carrying round de Palm-branch on Tabernacles to be shaken by de voomans who cannot attend Synagogue, and by blowing de trumpet for de same voomans on New Year, so dat dey may break deir fasts?" "The amount is too small to deserve discussion. Pass on." "Dere is a smaller amount--just half dat--I get from de presents to de poor at de Feast of Lots, and from de Bridegrooms of de Beginning and de Bridegrooms of de Law at de Rejoicing of de Law, and dere is about four pounds ten a year from de sale of clothes given to me.
