“There came a little youth,
His beard had run away, in truth,
Halleluja!”

“Jack,” again cried the voice of the invisible speaker, “Jack, I’m a lone man, and that is a dangerous song, and I don’t like it; I have my reasons for it, and if you love me, sing something else, and tomorrow we will drink together.”

At the word “drink” Jack ceased his drumming and singing, and said in friendly tone, “The devil take the Jews!  But thou, dear Nose Star, art my friend, I protect thee; and if we drink together often enough I shall have thee converted.  Yea, I shall be thy godfather, and when thou art baptized thou shalt be eternally happy; and if thou hast genius and wilt study industriously under me, thou mayest even become a drummer.  Yes, Nose Star, thou mayest yet become something great.  I will drum the whole catechism into thee when we drink together tomorrow.  But now open the gate, for here are two strangers who wish to enter.”

“Open the gate?” cried Nose Star, and his voice almost deserted him.  “That can’t be done in such a hurry, my dear Jack; one can’t tell—­one can never tell, you know—­and I’m a lone man.  Veitel Oxhead has the key, and he is now standing in the corner mumbling his eighteen-prayer, and he must not be interrupted.  And Jaekel the Fool is here too, but he is making water; I’m a lone man.”

“The devil take the Jews!” cried the drummer, and, laughing loudly at this, his one and only joke, he trudged off to the guard-room and lay down on the bench.

While the Rabbi stood with his wife before the locked gate, there rose from behind it a snarling, nasal, somewhat mocking voice.  “Starry—­don’t groan so much.  Take the keys from Oxheady’s coat pockets, or else go stick your nose in the keyhole, and so unlock the gate.  The people have been standing and waiting a long time.”  “People!” cried the anxious voice of the man called Nose Star, “I thought there was only one!  I beg you, Fool—­dear Jaekel Fool—­look out and see who is there.”

A small, well-grated window in the gate opened, and there appeared in it a yellow cap with two horns, and the funny, wrinkled, and twisted jest-maker’s face of Jaekel the Fool.  The window was immediately shut again, and he cried angrily, “Open the gate—­it is only a man and a woman.”

“A man and a woman!” groaned Nose Star.  “Yes, but when the gate’s opened the woman will take her skirt off, and become a man; and then there’ll be two men, and there are only three of us!”

“Don’t be a hare,” replied Jaekel the Fool.  “Be a man and show courage!”

“Courage!” cried Nose Star, laughing with bitter vexation.  “Hare!  Hare is a bad comparison.  The hare is an unclean animal.  Courage!  I was not put here to be courageous, but cautious.  When too many come I am to give the alarm.  But I alone cannot keep them back.  My arm is weak, I have a seton, and I’m a lone man.  If one were to shoot at me, I should be a dead man.  Then that rich man, Mendel Reiss, would sit on the Sabbath at his table, and wipe the raisin-sauce from his mouth, and rub his belly, and perhaps say, ’Tall Nose Star was a brave fellow after all; if it had not been for him, perhaps they would have burst open the gate.  He let himself be shot for us.  He was a brave fellow; too bad that he’s dead!’”