"Nothing," says Ginzburg. "I was thinking of something."
He went on thinking, and fell into a doze where he sat.
He saw his mother enter the room with a soft step, take a chair, and sit down by the sick child.
"Mother, save it!" he begs her, his heart is full to bursting, and he begins to cry.
"Isrolik," says his mother, "I have brought a remedy for the child that bears my name."
"Mame!!!"
He is about to throw himself upon her neck and kiss her, but she motions him lightly aside.
"Why do you never light a candle for my Yohrzeit?" she inquires, and looks at him reproachfully.
"Mame, have pity on us, save the child!"
"The child will live, only you must light me a candle."