"Would you really like to study it, Jack?" asked David. "It will be a great help to you when you 'go into the business' of preaching to us Jews."
Jack tilted his head to one side, and thrust his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in an embarrassed way. Then he looked up, and saw that David was not laughing at him, but soberly awaiting his answer.
"Yes, I really would," he answered, decidedly.
"Then I'll teach you as long as you are in the office."
Mr. Marion came in one day and saw David's dark head and Jack's yellow one bending over the same page, and listened to the boy's enthusiastic explanation of the letters.
"I wish we could form a class of our Sabbath-school teachers," said Mr. Marion. "Would you undertake to teach it, Herschel?"
The young man hesitated. "If it were convenient I might make the attempt," he said. "But I do not live in the city. My home is out at Hillhollow."
Then, after a pause, while some other plan seemed to be revolving in his mind, he asked: "Why not get Rabbi Barthold? He is a born teacher, and nothing would delight him more than to imbue some other soul with a zeal for his beloved mother-tongue."
"I'll certainly take the matter into consideration," responded Mr. Marion, "if you will get his consent, and find what his terms are. Bethany, I'll head the list with your name. Then there's Ray and myself. That makes three, and I know at least three of my teachers that I am sure of. I wish George Cragmore were here. Do you know, Bethany, it would not surprise me very much if the Conference sends him here this fall?"
"Not in Dr. Bascom's place," she exclaimed.