And the Rebbe answers again in the Little-Russian speech:
‘Vassil.’
‘Which Vassil? And what do you want, Vassil?’
‘I have wood to sell’, says the sham peasant, ‘very cheap, for next to nothing.’ And without further ado he goes in. The Lithuanian steals in behind him, and sees, in the grey light of dawn, a poor room withpoor, broken furniture. In the bed lies a sick Jewess huddled up in rags, who says bitterly:
‘Wood to sell—and where am I, a poor widow, to get money to buy it?’
‘I will give you a six-groschen worth on credit.’
‘And how am I ever to repay you?’ groans the poor woman.
‘Foolish creature!’ the Rebbe upbraids her. ‘See here: you are a poor sick Jewess, and I am willing to trust you with the little bundle of wood; I believe that in time you will repay me. And you, you have such a great, mighty God, and you do not trust Him! Not even to the amount of a miserable six groschen for a bundle of wood!’
‘And who is to light the stove?’ groans the widow. ‘Do I look like getting up to do it, and my son away at work?’
‘I will also light the stove for you’, said the Rebbe. And the Rebbe, while he laid the wood in the stove, repeated, groaning, the first part of the Sliches. Then, when the stove was alight and the wood crackled cheerily, he repeated, more gaily, the second part of the Sliches. He repeated the third part when the fire had burnt itself out, and he shut the stove doors.