"Never mind, it's not for you, you wouldn't understand—it is an exposition of a passage in the Gemoreh."
She was silent, the Hebrew words awed her, and she listened respectfully to the end.
"I salute Immi ahuvossi and Achoissai, Sarah and Goldeh, and Ochi Yakov; tell him to study diligently. I have all my 'days' and I sleep at Reb Chayyim's," gave out Reb Yochanan suddenly in Yiddish.
Taube contented herself with these few words, took back the letter, put it in her pocket, and went back to her stall with great joy.
"This evening," she thought, "I will show it to the Dayan, and let him read it too."
And no sooner had she got home, cooked the dinner, and fed the children, than she was off with the letter to the Dayan.
She entered the room, saw the tall bookcases filled with books covering the walls, and a man with a white beard sitting at the end of the table reading.
"What is it, a ritual question?" asked the Dayan from his place.
"No."
"What then?"