Two Scholars Who Were in Our Town and Other Novellas by S. Y. Agnon Page B

to drop in at our town and provide an oral ruling for the trustees of the bequest. The town abounded with joy and prepared itself to greet him. And here we must recount a wondrous event. There was an old man in town, who must have been about a hundred years old, for he was born the same year that the great sage Reb Pinchas (Reb Shlomo’s grandfather) had passed and he had been named after him. For a long while he had been wishing to die, because he was very old and terribly weakened by the burden of the years. And yet in those days he began to pray rather that he would live in order to behold the grandson of that pious one.
    Meanwhile, Reb Shlomo Eliyah cleared a special room for his brother-in-law, the rabbi, and he ordered that the furnace be fixed. And when the furnace had been repaired, they would fire it up twice daily, even though many were doubtful whether the rabbi would come since the roads were impassable and every journey life threatening. The distinguished rabbi Reb Yehudah, father-in-law of my grandfather Reb Yehudah, said “I have no doubt that he will come. As it is not Reb Shlomo’s way to go back on his word.”
    35.
    One day, close to the time for the afternoon prayers, a winter carriage arrived in our town and on it a man dressed like one of the high officials, in an enormous winter fur cloak. The carriage rolled in and stopped by the store of Reb Shimon Eliyah. The store’s clerks jumped up and ran out to greet the carriage, and all the trade agents of the town surrounded it assuming that a high official was coming to procure merchandise. They had not realized that it was Reb Shlomo, a high official in Torah, which surpasses any merchandise. Reb Shimon Eliyah came out accompanied by his two sons, and with them the charity fund treasurer, and helped the rabbi alight from the carriage. The lady of the house, Reb Shimon Eliyah’s wife, overheard the commotion and ordered the servants to add logs to the furnace. They brought Reb Shlomo to the house, removed his heavy cloak and leather boots and sat him down in a soft chair, his feet facing the furnace, and they covered his knees with a fur mantle and observed him closely to see what else would suit him and what more they could do for him. He was spent from the hardship of the journey. And when the snow in his beard melted they realized that the snow was not melting, in other words that his hair had gone white, and not due to the passage of time but rather due to grief and suffering. And even though he was completely worn out, he sent for the trustees so as not to not delay justice to the poor. And meanwhile he instructed that his bags be opened and he took out a variety of sweets that he had brought from the wedding feast of his sister’s daughter. He gave some to his relatives, and to the servants and maids he gave first choice, and he asked them to eat them in front of him and said Amen after the blessings. After they had tasted them, he asked if they were good. He probably had a particular motive, since the bride had been orphaned from her father and her uncle the great sage was concerned that perhaps they had not bothered to prepare fine delicacies for her.
    While this had been taking place, half the town had arrived to greet the rabbi and with them came the distinguished trustees. Due to the great number of guests, they were unable to get around to discussing the matter of the bequest. But the next day, immediately after the morning prayers before he even ate or drank, the rabbi sat down with the trustees until he had arrived at a true and just ruling. That is, to give half to the poor relatives and half to the poor townsfolk. As to the half for the poor of the town, equal shares would be distributed to all. But the half portion for the relatives would be divided giving priority to the closest kin, and the brother of the deceased, who was the closest of all, would be given a third of that half, the remaining two thirds to be divided without