XVII
A CHAT
It is warm, real holiday weather, and Reb Shachneh, a tall, thin Jew, one of the last old Kotzkers,[1] and Reb Zerach, one of the few remaining old Belzers,[111] are taking a stroll outside the town.
As young men they had been enemies, hating each other heart and soul. Reb Shachneh led the Kotzkers against the Belzers, and Reb Zerach, the Belzers against the Kotzkers.
But now that they are old, and Kotzkers are "not what they were," and Belzers have lost their "go," they have separated themselves from their former associates, and left the meeting-rooms where less pious, but younger and stronger, men have taken the lead.
They made peace in the synagogue, in winter time, beside the stove, and now, on this intermediate day of Passover, on the first fine afternoon, they have come out together for a walk.
The sun shines in a wide, blue sky. The little grasses are springing up through the mould, and one can distinctly see the angel who stands beside each blade, and cries: grow, grow!
Little birds fly about in flocks, looking for last year's nests, and Reb Shachneh says to Reb Zerach:
"A Kotzker, you see, I mean a real Kotzker—the present ones don't count—never thought much of the Haggadah."[112]