Children, I grew up, and Benny grew up. He became a young man with a yellowish beard and a round belly. He wears a gold chain across it. It seems he is a rich man.
We met in the train. I recognized him by his fishy, bulging eyes and his scattered teeth. We had not met for a long time. We kissed one another and talked of the good old times, the dear good days of our childhood, and the foolish things we did then.
"Do you remember, Benny, that 'Chanukah' when you won everything with the spinning top? The G always fell for you."
I looked at Benny. He was convulsed with laughter. He held his sides. He was rolling over. He was actually choking with laughter.
"God be with you, Benny! Why this sudden burst of laughter, Benny?"
"Oh!" he cried, "oh! go away with your spinning-top! That was a good top. It was a real top. It was a pudding made only of suet. It was a stew of nothing but raisins."
"What sort of a top was it, Benny? Tell me quicker."
"It was a top that had all around it, on all the corners only the one letter, G."
Esther
I am not going to tell you a story of "Cheder" or of the teacher, or of the teacher's wife. I have told you enough about them. Perhaps you will allow me, this time, in honour of the feast of "Purim," to tell you a story of the teacher's daughter, Esther.