GRANDPA ISIDORE
At a quarter past nine on a rainy morning Grandpa Isidore
opened his eyes. He had been woken by the sound of brass guns be–
ing drawn by horses on squeaking wooden gun carriages. General
Shevchenko's troops had returned to the town at last, and were now
engaged in crushing the power of the hooligans and driving the
armed rabble out into the forests, the muddy villages, the swamps.
The church bells had also been rehung, and were ringing out
again. He must get up.
He must get up, get washed, dab on some scent, put on a dark
suit as befits a notary public and a silk tie in honor of the impending
meeting, pick up his stick, put on a hat, arm himself with some use–
ful documents, and take the precaution of secreting a neatly
wrapped bottle of vodka in his overcoat pocket. On the way to the
town hall he must collect the
Parnas
and the
Gubbay
from their homes
and then appear with the utmost politeness before the General at the
head of this humble but experienced deputation representing the
whole Jewish community: it is time to resume the old understand–
ing. Time to renew the community's contacts with the legal govern–
ment on a basis of calculation and reciprocal politeness. Time is
pressing. He must be up and doing.
Meanwhile the strong horses harnessed to the brass guns have
passed and gone. Now they will be down by the water, firing across
the river, perhaps they have already set fire to the great forest oppo–
site. Must get up.
Painfully he turns over from his back to his side. He thrusts
aside the heavy blanket. His bare feet grope for the slippers like a
pair of blind beggars. One is found, the other, maddeningly, seems
to be hiding. The furrowed hand clasps the stainless steel handle
which his grandchildren have taken the trouble to fix to the wall be–
side his bed. After a struggle involving every bone in his body he
stands up, with one foot still bare, and begins to wrestle with the
buttons of the brightly patterned pajamas which his great-niece has
brought him back as a present from London. All night long the radio
which he has forgotten to switch off has spoken and sung and twit–
tered and screeched. Now a loose young woman is trying to per–
suade him in a seductive whisper only to use the Most Caressing
