The Portland daily press., 1895-12-27
THE.SABBATH BREAKER
By I. ZANGWILL.
Copyright, 1895, by the Author

CenCenar3sn grandmOtner TO Gle. from
the doctors statement it appeared she
had only bad quarter of an hour to
live. Her attack had been sudden, and
the grandchildren she loved to scold
could not be present.
She had already battled through the
great wave of pain and was drifting be-
yond the boundaries of her earthly
refuge. The nurses, forgetting the trou-
BILE her querulousness and overweening
dietary scruples had cost them, hung
over the bed in which the shriveled en-
tity lay. They did not know that she
was living again through the one great
episode of her life.
Nearly 40 years back, when, though
already hard upon 10, and widow, a
Polish village was all her horizon, she
received letter. 1t arrived on the eve
of Sabbath, on a day of rainy summer
1t was from her little boy-her only boy
who kept country inn 81 miles
away and had a family. She opened the
letter with feverish anxiety. Her SON
her kaddish-was the apple of her eye
The grandmother eagerly perused the
Hebrew script, from right to left Then
weakness overcame her, and she nearly
fell.
Embedded casually enough in the four
pages was a passage that stood out for
her in letters of blood: 81 am not feel
ing very we'll lately. The weather is SO
oppressive, and the nights are misty.
But it is nothing serious. My digestion
is little out of order, that's all T"
There were rubkss for her in the letter,
but she let them fall to the floor I'M
needed Panic, fear, travelling quicker
than the tardy post of those days, had
brought runner of sudden outbreak Of
cholera in her sons district. Already
alarm for her boy had surged about her
heart all day. The letter confirmed her
worst apprehensions Even if the first
touch of the cholera fend was not ac-
tually on him when he wrote, still he
was, by his own confession, in that con-
dition in which the disease takes easiest
grip. By this time he was on bed of
sickness-nay perhaps on his deathbed,
if not dead Even in those days the lit.
tie grandmother had lived beyond the
common span. She had seen many peo-
pie die, and knew that the angel of
death does not go about his work lei
surely. In an epidemic his hands are too
full to enable him to devote much at
tention to each CASE Maternal instinct
tugged at her heartstrings, drawing her
toward her boy. The end Of the letter
seemed impregnated with special omen
"Come and see me soon, dear. little
mother. I shall be unable to get to you
for some time" Yes. she must go at
once. Who knew but that it would be
the last time she would look upon his
face?
But then came a terrible thought to
give her pause. The Sabbath was Just
I'm" a moment ago. Driving, riding,
or any manner of journeying was pro-
hibited during the next "a hours Fran
tically she reviewed the situation Re
hgion permitted the violation of the
Sabbath on one conditional life was
to be saved. By no stretch of logic could
she delude herself into the belief that
her son S recovery hinged upon her pres
ence. Nay, analysing the case with the
cruel remorselesSness of scrupulous
conscience, she saw his very illness was
only plausible hypothesis. No. To go
to him now were beyond question to
profane the Sabbath.
And yet, beneath all the reasoning,
her conviction that he was sick unto
death, her resolve to set out at once
never wavered. After an sagonizing
struggle she compromised. She could
not 60 by cart. That would be to make
others work into the bargain, and would,
moreover, involve a financial transact
ton. She must walk Sinful as it was
to transgress the limit Of 2,0O0 yards
beyond her village, the distance fixed by
rabbinical law, there was no help for it,
And Of all the forms of travelling walk
ing was surely the least sinful. The
Holy One, blessed be he, would know
she did not mean to work Perhaps in
his mercy he would make allowance for
an old woman who had never profaned
his rest day before.
And SO that very evening, having
made a hasty meal and lodged the pre-
cious letter in her bosom, the little
grandmother girded up her loins to walk
the seven and thirty miles. No staff
took she with her, for to carry such came
under the Talmudical definition of
"work." Neither could she carry an
umbrella, though 1t was season of
rain. Mile after mile she strobe briskly
toward the pallid face which lay so far
beyond the horizon and yet ever shone
before her eyes like guiding star. IT
am coming, my lamb, +" she muttered
THE little mother is on the way
1t was muggy night. The sky, flush
ed with weird hectic glamour, seemed
to hang over the earth like pail The
trees that lined the roadway were
shrouded in dragging vapor. AT mid
night the mist blotted out the stars.
But the little grandmother knew the
road ran straight. All night she walked
through the forest, fearless as Una, meet
ing neither man nor beast, though the