And in such work he would have spent his life. If he had only understood long ago, ah, how useful he would have been! And a shudder runs through him.
Tears of vexation come more than once into his eyes.
It was no secret in the town that old Reb Shloimeh spent two to three hours daily sitting with the teacher, only what they did together, that nobody knew. They tried to worm something out of the maid, but what was to be got out of a "glomp with two eyes," whose one reply was, "I don't know." They scolded her for it. "How can you not know, glomp?" they exclaimed. "Aren't you sometimes in the room with them?"
"Look here, good people, what's the use of coming to me?" the maid would cry. "How can I know, sitting in the kitchen, what they are about? When I bring in the tea, I see them talking, and I go!"
"Dull beast!" they would reply. Then they left her, and betook themselves to the grandchildren, who knew nothing, either.
"They have tea," was their answer to the question, "What does grandfather do with the teacher?"
"But what do they talk about, sillies?"
"We haven't heard!" the children answered gravely.
They tried the old lady.
"Is it my business?" she answered.