Schnorrer

“ The poor man put his hand involuntarily to his high collar as if to explain away his apparent arrogance, but in reality because he was not breathing easily under the Schnorrer's attack.
"You are an uncharitable man," he panted hotly, driven to a line of defence he had not anticipated. ”

“ You think because you live in a grand house nobody is good enough for you! But what are you, after all? A Schnorrer—that's all! A Schnorrer living on the charity of strangers. If I mix with grand folks, it is as an independent man and an equal; but you, rather than marry any one who mightn't be able to give you carriages and footmen, you prefer to remain a Schnorrer!'
Esther was white, and her lips trembled. ”

“ The pillar of the Synagogue felt as if his paunch were shrinking.
"But the others—" he murmured deprecatingly. "I have not shed their blood—have I not given freely of my hard-earned gold?"
"For your own diversion," retorted the Schnorrer implacably. "But what says the Midrash? There is a wheel rolling in the world—not he who is rich to-day is rich to-morrow, but this one He brings up, and this one He brings down, as is said in the seventy-fifth Psalm. Therefore, lift not up your horn on high, nor speak with a stiff neck." ”

“ They had travelled far and wide with Grobstock, who invariably combined pleasure with business.
"MANASSEH CAREFULLY EXAMINED THE BOXES."
"There is none quite empty," announced the Schnorrer, "but in this one there are only a few trifles—a pair of galligaskins and such like—so that if you make me a present of them the box will be empty, so far as you are concerned."
"All right," said Grobstock, and actually laughed. The nearer the departure of the Schnorrer, the higher his spirits rose. ”

“ None but a Schnorrer would wear a home-made turban, issue of a black cap crossed with a white kerchief; none but a Schnorrer would unbutton the first nine buttons of his waistcoat, or, if this relaxation were due to the warmth of the weather, counteract it by wearing an over-garment, especially one as heavy as a blanket, with buttons the size of compasses and flaps reaching nearly to his shoe-buckles, even though its length were only congruous with that of his undercoat, which already reached the bottoms of his knee-breeches. ”

“ It is your misfortune."
"My misfortune!" echoed the Schnorrer scornfully. "It is your misfortune—I did not even draw it. The Holy One, blessed be He, has punished you for your heartless [9] [10] jesting with the poor—making a sport for yourself of their misfortunes, even as the Philistines sported with Samson. The good deed you might have put to your account by a gratuity to me, God has taken from you. He has declared you unworthy of achieving righteousness through me. Go your way, murderer!"
"Murderer!" repeated the philanthropist, bewildered by this harsh view of his action. ”

“ 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 Yankelé.
"You make them to-day—but to-morrow? There is no certainty about them. Work of whatever kind is by its very nature unreliable. ”

“ 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, Yankelé, you will do nothing to assist the [70] 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 Yankelé imprudently.
"That!" thundered Manasseh angrily, "That is not work! That is pleasure!"
"Vy look! ”

“ Manasseh added winningly: "I know you are a gentleman, capable of behaving as finely as any Sephardi."
This handsome compliment completed the Schnorrer's victory, which was sealed by his saying, "And so I should not like you to have it on your soul that you had done a poor man out of a few shillings."
Grobstock could only remark meekly: "You will find more than seventeen shillings in the bag."
"Ah, why were you born a Tedesco!" cried Manasseh ecstatically. "Do you know what I have a mind to do? To come and be your Sabbath-guest! ”

“ Manasseh's benefactions were approaching thrillingly near the highest total hitherto reached by any one man upon any one occasion. Every brain was troubled by surmises. The Chief of the Elders, fuming impotently, was not alone in apprehending a blasphemous mockery; but the bulk imagined that the Schnorrer had come into property or had always been a man of substance, and was now taking this means of restoring to the Synagogue the funds he had drawn from it. ”

“ Yankelé was pale and trembling. "But he is married!" he urged, with a happy thought.
"THE TREMBLING JEW."
"Dine with him to-morrow," said Manasseh inexorably. "He fares extra royally on the Sabbath. Obtain admission to his table, and you shall be admitted into my family."
"But you do not know the man—it is impossible!" cried Yankelé.
"That is the excuse of the bad Schnorrer. You have heard my ultimatum. No dinner, no wife. No wife—no dowry!"
"Vat vould dis dowry be?" asked Yankelé, by way of diversion. ”

“ He walked out of earshot of the by-standers, turning down a side alley opposite the stall, and beckoned with his salmon bag. The East India Director had no course but to obey. He would probably have followed him in any case, to have it out with him, but now he had a humiliating sense of being at the Schnorrer's beck and call.
"Well, what more have you to say?" he demanded gruffly.
"I wish to save you money in future," said the beggar in low, confidential tones. "That Jonathan is a son of the separation! The salmon is not worth two guineas—no, on my soul! ”

“ Shame on you—you a Gabbai (treasurer) of the Great Synagogue. You see I know you, Joseph Grobstock. Has not the beadle of your Synagogue boasted to me that you have given him a guinea for brushing your spatterdashes? Would you think of offering him a packet? Nay, it is the poor that are trodden on—they whose merits are in excess of those of beadles. But the Lord will find others to take up his loans—for he who hath pity on the poor lendeth to the Lord. You are no true son of Israel."
The Schnorrer's tirade was long enough to allow Grobstock to recover his dignity and his breath. ”

“ No Ascama mentions the Schnorrer, or gives you any authority over him."
"On the contrary," said the Chancellor, seeing the President disconcerted again, "he is bound to attend the weekday services. But this man hardly ever does, sir." "I never do," corrected Manasseh, with touching sadness. "That is another of the privileges I have to forego in order to take your charity; I cannot risk appearing to my Maker in the light of a mercenary." ”

“ He had caught the Schnorrer's eye as its owner sunned himself in the archway, and it held him.
"'Tis only a meeting of the Mahamad I have to attend," he said indifferently. "Rather a nuisance—but duty is duty."
Grobstock's red face became a setting for two expanded eyes.
"I thought the Mahamad was your chief Council," he exclaimed.
"Yes, there are only five of us," said Manasseh lightly, and, while Grobstock gaped incredulous, the Chancellor himself shambled up in pale consternation.
"You are keeping the gentlemen of the Mahamad waiting," he panted imperiously. ”

“ No wonder that he tried to get a little more.” Indeed, if the Schnorrer was really a shrewd fellow and his trick a well-devised one, he was far more apt to arouse amusement than resentment, and would actually profit by his nimble wit. This I saw well illustrated shortly after my arrival in Nordheim. ”

“ He marries while he is young—and his spouse is not cursed with barrenness. It is the rich man who transgresses the Judgment, who delays to come under the Canopy."
"Ah! well, here is a guinea—in the name of my wife," broke in Grobstock laughingly. "Or stay—since you do not brush spatterdashes—here is another."
"In the name of my wife," rejoined the Schnorrer with dignity, "I thank you."
"Thank me in your own name," said Grobstock. "I mean tell it me."
"I am Manasseh Bueno Barzillai Azevedo da Costa," he answered simply.
"A Sephardi!" exclaimed the philanthropist. ”

“ Manasseh demanded next of the Mahamad.
They had not, so Manasseh despatched the Chief of the Elders in quest of a sedan chair. Then there was nothing left but to await the physician.
[127]
"You see, gentlemen, how insecure is earthly power," said the Schnorrer solemnly, while the President breathed stertorously, deaf to his impressive moralising. "It is swallowed up in an instant, as Lisbon was engulfed. Cursed are they who despise the poor. ”

“ 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." ”

“ It is friendship. And the more dey pay me de more friendship I feel," asserted Yankelé with a twinkle. "Den de Synagogue allows me a little extra for announcing de dead."
In those primitive times, when a Jewish newspaper was undreamt of, the day's obituary was published by a peripatetic Schnorrer, who went about the Ghetto rattling a pyx—a copper money-box with a handle and a lid closed by a padlock. On hearing this death-rattle, anyone who felt curious would ask the Schnorrer:
"Who's dead to-day?" ”

“ The two Schnorrers shook hands. "I thought you were asking for compliments on your manœuvring."
"Vy, doesn't it deserve dem?"
"No," said Manasseh magisterially.
"No?" queried Yankelé, his heart sinking again. "Vy not?"
"Why did you kill so many people?"
"Somebody must die dat I may live."
"You said that before," said Manasseh severely. "A good Schnorrer would not have slaughtered so many for his dinner. It is a waste of good material. And then you told lies!"
"How do you know they are not dead?" pleaded Yankelé. ”

“ Grobstock suppressed a groan. Here had all his manœuvring landed him in a worse plight than ever. He would have to present Manasseh to the livery servant without even that clean face which might not unreasonably have been expected for the Sabbath. Despite the text quoted by the erudite Schnorrer, he strove to put off the evil hour.
"Had you not better take the salmon home to your wife first?" said he.
"My duty is to enable you to complete your good deed at once. My wife is unaware of the salmon. She is in no suspense." ”

“ The realities of things came back—a whirl of self-contemptuous thoughts blent with a hopeless sense of the harshness of life. Who was she, to aspire to such a match? Had her earlier day-dream left her no wiser than that? The Schnorrer's daughter setting her cap at the wealthy Oxford man, forsooth! What would people say? And what would they say if they knew how she had sought him out in his busy seclusion, to pitch a tale of woe and move him by his tenderness of heart to a pity he mistook momentarily for love? The image of Levi came back suddenly; she quivered, reading herself through his eyes. ”

“ Grobstock resolved to snatch the benefit of her doubts. "My dear," said he, "this is Mr. da Costa."
"Manasseh Bueno Barzillai Azevedo da Costa," said the Schnorrer.
The dame seemed a whit startled and impressed. She bowed, but words of welcome were still congealed in her throat.
"And this is Yankelé ben Yitzchok," added Manasseh. "A poor friend of mine. I do not doubt, Mrs. Grobstock, that as a pious woman, the daughter of Moses Bernberg (his memory for a blessing) , you prefer grace with three." ”

“ The great moment, however, was when, the section being concluded, the Master Reader announced Manasseh's donations to the Synagogue. The financial statement was incorporated in a long Benediction, like a coin wrapped up in folds of paper. This was always a great moment, even when inconsiderable personalities were concerned, each man's generosity being the subject of speculation before and comment after. Manasseh, it was felt, would, although a mere Schnorrer, rise to the height of the occasion, and offer as much as seven and sixpence. ”

“ Profits from this source I cannot regard as legitimate."
"But most Schnorrers be Synagogue-knockers!"
"Most Schnorrers are Congregation-men or Psalms-men," retorted the Spaniard witheringly. "But I call it debasing. What! To assist at the services for a fee! To worship [68] one's Maker for hire! Under such conditions to pray is to work." His breast swelled with majesty and scorn.
"I cannot call it vork," protested the Schnorrer. "Vy at dat rate you vould make out dat de minister vorks? or de preacher? Vy, I reckon fourteen pounds a year to my services as Congregation-man." ”

“ Grobstock nodded his head vaguely. He had already remembered that the proceeding was considerably below his dignity; he was not a stockbroker, never had he done anything of the kind for anyone.
"But suppose I lose it all?" he asked, trying to draw back.
"Impossible," said the Schnorrer serenely. "Do you forget it is a Synagogue fund? Do you think the Almighty will suffer His money to be lost?"
"Then why not speculate yourself?" said Grobstock craftily.
"The Almighty's honour must be guarded. What! [155] Shall He be less well served than an earthly monarch? ”