The Pride of Possession. By M. Berdaschevsky.
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Inthe Ghetto of a small Russian town there once lived a small, inefficient person, called Tobiah. As his delicate constitution prevented him from working, his wife and only daughter had to support him as well as themselves. This they did by selling cakes and sweets in the Ghetto market, and though their profit was rather little, they still managed to make both ends meet. Fortunately for them they had no rent to pay, as their home had been inherited by Tobiah from his father, to whom it had been bequeathed by a near relative. It would certainly be a misnomer to dignify Tobiah’s abode with the appellation of a house. In reality it was nothing more than an ugly dilapidated hovel that had two little holes, through which the light of day entered, and also a big one that served as a door. Yet Tobiah was exceedingly proud of it, especially as attached to it was a small patch of grass, on which there stood a bench, where on a fine day he would sit, contemplating with no small complacency the family estate. He would not even condescend to answer the friendly greetings of his neighbour, Reb Tanchum, who was not a landed proprietor. This neglect of common courtesy on the part of Tobiah caused the former great annoyance, which he suffered patiently, as he was unable to prevent it.